” Jaki rahi bhavna jaisi Prabhu murat dekhi tin taisi”
Different expressions of the one divine source. Paths are different, Destination is the same. Therefore, so many gods in hinduism. Therefore so many rituals, festivals, mantras But a truly spiritual person will go beyond all this. He will move towards experiencing shunyata- A state of nothingness (The essence of one’s existence).
Nature blesses us every moment. Yet we ignore it and go ahead with our daily activities. We get so entangled in this quagmire that we fail to experience the bliss this nature bestows us.
One such bliss I experienced today. As monsoons arrived, my garden bloomed with lilies in pink, yellow, and white. Lush green shoots wear a crown of petals and sway in pride. Indeed, beauty and vain go together. I just sit and admire the vibrance and charm of these lilies. To keep alive these memories as I wait for these lilies to bloom again after a year.
Each one of us has a fantasy, a longing, a desire, to have that perfect night. A night filled with magic and love. Some like it simple like any other silent night. Some love it like a celebration with the festoons and confetti. Some yearn for a total trance of the starry sky. Some need just the lunar charm. Some need solace and solitude. Some need a confidante to contribute. But all need something in the night that they miss in the day light.
The night carries me to,
A magical world of love, And a surreal terrain of joy, Where stars twinkle brighter, And create a scintillating mosaic, In the pristine blue waters, With the breeze smothering my tresses, And nudging me to dance, To the tunes of the night’s notes, And live this night fully, In ecstasy and bliss.
How one experiences the divinity is a mystery in itself. But whatever be the experience, it’s worth sharing. I am sharing my experience in the form of a short poem.
The morning temple bells, And the breezy lake side, The lemony fresh sky, And the fragrant marigold petals, The ivory conch echoes, And the invigorating mantra sounds, The soothing camphor fire, And the cleansing holy water, The clamor of the devotees, Brought to a dead silence, By the sheer divine presence, Not outside as a diety, but within oneself.
Bougainville flowers are a perfect example of beauty in minimalism yet owning a regality. I love bougainville and my favorite is the clustered one in fuschia. I admire its simplicity and poise. A short poem dedicated to this enchantress in fuschia.
Her raiment- a story of plentitude,
Containing pleats and folds in multitude,
Carrying this flamboyance in attitude,
This enchantress of her own certitude,
Flashing fuschia hues of regal altitude,
Exhibiting artistry of extraordinary magnitude.
Reminds the onlooker- Exquisiteness is in complete acceptance,
Of one’s unique and sketchy outer existence,
Comparison leads to a deep repentance,
Obscuring totality in an act of reflectance,
Through the lens of imposed resistance,
Hindering life towards a path of transcendence. You owe these myriad angularities,