” 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).
GOD : RELIGION : FAITH
Have you ever observed how things have layers to them. It is just a matter of range, and scale. What’s not evident doesn’t imply it doesn’t exist.Another dream of a beautiful evening sky, a palette of blues and greens, with undertones of greys and blacks. As I saw this, I felt an urge to go beyond this layer, and see what’s beneath. There is something enticing about the hidden. Tried sharing the same through a poem.
The Lines
This beautiful sky above,
With shades of blue-
A stolen hue from the peacock’s feathers,
A grabbed tone from the nordic seas,
And a snatched tint from the crystals of Ceylon.
The greens look subdued,
But still asserting their presence,
With a mix of mountain jungles and the muddy water stains.
The greys and blacks,
Intrigue me a bit,
The manner in which,
They cast a spell of darkness,
Astounds my knowing,
And I become a seeker,
To move towards the unknown,
With the light of the known.
For the knower is always,
In his incompleteness,
Seeking beyond.
As I removed this layer,
I saw a path,
Grey and black,
Revealing the possibilities that exist,
Always, in different forms and layers,
The ones we ignore or overlook,
And miss the bewitching abundance,
This existence offers every moment.
LAYERED: EXISTENCE: LIFE
Dreams are a encounters of a different kind. Sometimes purely blissful, sometimes horrifying to the core. I share one such dream I had last night. What better way than by expressing it in the form a poem.
The Lines
Another dreamy encounter,
As I reach in a jiffy,
A far away terrain,
Sun’s radiating gloriously,
A beautiful mesh of rays,
Covering this earth,
Like a bride’s veil,
Beautiful when worn,
And even more beautiful,
When lifted.
A tiny amber boulder,
Near the magenta blossoms,
Invites me to a soirée,
Filled with fantasies,
And lores,
Of fairies and angels.
The very resplendent sight,
Bewitched me in entirety,
And I sat on the boulder,
Ready to traverse,
A journey beyond a path,
Beyond any destination.
SURREALISM: DREAM: BEAUTY
Tulip Brook 