Saturday, December 29, 2012

Take me to that place

Take me to that place where
I can see but I need no eyes,
I can hear but I need no ears,
I can fly but I need no wings,
I can walk but I need no limbs.

Take me to that place where
I can breathe but I need no lungs,
I can smell but I need no nose,
I can taste but I need no tongue,
I can feel but I need no skin.

Take me to that place where
I can listen to the light
and watch the sound,
I can taste a fragrance
and drink the wind.

Take me to that place …

I dedicate this poem to my yoga teacher Pradeep Ullal and Ramudu during whose meditation sessions, this poem came to me. 

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Space and time

Stars seem smaller than the moon,
while my finger can hide the sun.

Earth to me looks flatter than it is;
my breath is louder than outer noise.

The sky is small enough to fit my eye,
while my hands easily enclose the sea.

Yesterday affects me the most,
while yesteryear is a sketchy haze.

The imminent stimulates the most,
distant future is an unsolved maze.

Closeness breeds relative disproportion,
while distance puts things in perspective.

The whole game is played on space and time.
The closer you get, the bigger the illusion.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Who am I? - a short story

“And the CEO of the year is Mr. Ben Richardson,” said the presenter to an audience that stood up to applaud the winner. Ben himself was fairly subdued in his reaction, almost belying the prestige of the award which was informally called ‘The Business Booker’. Some would call it confidence, some arrogance of being the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company at just thirty two years.

Ben watched the recording repeatedly, wondering what prevented his joy at that moment of a lifetime. During his short acceptance speech, Ben knew he looked at the audience but did not see them. His eyes were gazing somewhere beyond, while he was probing something deep within.

Lost in his internal conflict, Ben missed a few knocks at the door. It was Jim, his happy-go-lucky friend from school. He tripped and spilt martini as Ben opened the door. Ben chortled at the smudges on Jim’s black jacket and white shirt.

“Ben, what the hell are you doing all alone in this room?” asked Jim with a slur, looking around after recovering.


“Nothing?” asked Jim, confused, “The corporate bigwigs are in the next hall celebrating your achievement. You should be out there, not here.”

“Hmn,” said Ben indifferently as he sat on the black, leather sofa that sucked him in. 

“Is that all you’ve to say? What’s the matter Ben?” a concerned Jim sat next to Ben gently placing his hand on Ben’s shoulder and the glass on the table, “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”

“Hmn,” Ben nodded.

“Ben, you are the subject of everyone’s envy,” an annoyed Jim got up and raised his voice under the assumed authority of a friend, “for having achieved all this by thirty-two. And this HMN is all you’ve to say?” Jim almost stumbled back into the sofa as he finished.


Jim sighed in annoyance and moved away from Ben.   

“I ask again Ben,” he turned anxiously, “what’s the matter? Aren’t you going to tell your best friend?”

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” Ben ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head.

“Has something happened that I’m not aware of?” Jim asked, looking grave.

“These are the things I always worked for: success, recognition, achievement,” Ben got up and walked a few steps placing his hands in his black, Gucci trousers pockets. He turned before adding, “But now that I’ve achieved everything I possibly can, there is a vacuum.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Jim as relief replaced the concern on his face, “I think I know what you are talking about. It’s lonely at the top, isn’t it?”


“No? Then?”

“I feel like I know so much about the outside world, but …”

“But what?” asked Jim, worried again.

“But I know nothing about myself, my real identity,” Ben sighed.

“What?” asked a perplexed Jim with a wry face, “What do you mean?”

“Who do you think am I?”

“You should be the first person capable of answering this question my friend,” said Jim, guffawing.

“Is it? If you think it is so easy, why don’t you try?” Ben challenged Jim.

“You are Ben Richardson,” Jim said smugly, knowing that he can’t get wrong.

“That’s my name,” clarified Ben, “Who am I?”

“What the hell is the difference?” asked Jim, flummoxed.

“That is my name Jim,” Ben moved towards Jim in an attempt to clarify his point, “It is a tag for all of us to identify me. What if we were all identified by numbers? Would I be any different if my name was Jack or 512?”

“You mean,” said Jim as he understood Ben’s perspective, “a rose by any other name …”


“Aaah!” Jim exclaimed as he finally understood what Ben was getting to, “Ok. You are the CEO of a fortune 500 company.”

“That’s my designation. Who am I?”

“You are American.”

“That’s my nationality.”

“You are one of the youngest billionaires in the world.”

“That’s my wealth.”

“You are a man.”

“That’s my gender.”

Jim then took a break as he brooded for the next possible answer.

“You are a husband to a wife and a son to your parents.”

“Those are my relations. Who am I?”

“You are a human.”

“That is just a physical form.”

“You are a bloody idiot hell bent on ruining my heavenly inebriation,” Jim lost it.

“Gave up?” Ben chuckled.

“Yes,” Jim raised his hands in exasperated surrender as Ben continued smiling, “can’t argue with an intelligent fool.”

“Damn,” Jim walked away from Ben in frustration and whispered, “Why the hell did I enter this room? 
When logic failed, Jim resorted to the next best thing.

“You have achieved so much without answering this question,” Jim pleaded sincerely, “What stops you from going on? How does this one question suddenly become so important?

“This question seems to be the most important question of my life right now,” said Ben calmly, “I can give up my whole corporate life to get the answer to this.”

“But why is it pertinent now, in this moment of your life?” Jim cried.

“I don’t know. All I know is it’s important right now,” Ben affirmed.

“Stop acting like a pregnant woman,” Jim rebuked Ben.
Ben glared at Jim.

“Why do you care Ben?” not finding anything better, Jim began to plead, “You have everything: a beautiful wife, a great job, a profitable company, happy shareholders. What more do you want?”

“More,” Ben chuckled before turning serious again, “That is the word, isn’t it? M-O-R-E More. Are you really sure I shouldn’t want more when greed is exactly what we have created around us?”

“Looks like you need a break,” Jim suggested when pleading also failed.

“Bloody hell I do,” Ben affirmed.

“Where do you want to go?” Jim asked, encouraged by the first sign of agreement from Ben, “Miami, Rio, Switzerland, Bali, Dubai or Thailand. Tell me. I want you back Ben. I’m not comfortable with this avatar of yours.”

“India,” said Ben with sparkle in his eyes.  

“India?” cried a shocked Jim, “What the hell is there in India except a suffocating crowd of a billion people and a few call centers. You can’t even buy food there without getting sick.”

“May be the best that India has to offer cannot be bought, it has to be sought,” Ben asserted calmly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I will get my answer there.”


The next day while returning from office, Ben, for a change, did not work in his chauffeur driven Bentley. A day old stubble shined in the crimson of the setting sun that peeked through roadside buildings. His tie was loose at the neck. Black Calvin Klein jacket with satin lapel lay beside him. The route felt almost new to him for he was always too lost in his work to notice the life around him. However, Ben did not really register whatever he saw as he was still wrecking his mind to find the answer.

Suddenly, Ben’s eyes registered something that broke his chain of thoughts and made him sit up.

A bearded monk with knotty, unkempt hair was entering a garden wearing a simple saffron dhoti and wrapped in a shawl. He had no footwear.  The anachronism of a monk in Manhattan struck Ben.

“Pull over the car,” he ordered impulsively.

Ben ran towards the garden entrance wearing his jacket looking for the monk.

“Excuse me, Excuse me,” Ben called out as he reached close enough.

“Yes Ben,” said the monk as he turned.

“How do you know my name?” a shocked Ben asked, his mouth agape.

“That’s not the most important question you want answer to, correct Ben?” the monk smiled benignly.
Ben didn’t know what to say. His mind went numb, his heart pounded, his mouth didn’t know how to close and his wide open eyes forgot how to blink.

“mmn … wh … who am I?” Ben heard himself ask.

“I hope you are not expecting the normal answer from me,” the monk started walking further, Ben followed involuntarily.

“Of course not.”

“I don’t think you can understand the answer,” said the monk, throwing a challenge at Ben.
The monk’s questioning Ben’s intelligence brought his pride into play and jerked him back to his senses.

“Well, you are doubting the intelligence of one of the smartest kids on the block,” Ben said indignantly, “You know that my smartness has made me the one of the richest men in the world?”

“Then why can’t your intelligence and wealth make you happy?” the monk threw Ben off-guard.
Embarrassed, Ben cleared his throat as the only response he could muster.  

“I’m sorry,” said Ben sincerely, “I was just swept over by the ego. Please tell me who I am.”

“Ok,” said the monk as he turned towards Ben, “You are the unseen behind the seen, the nothing that holds the everything, the unmanifest that projects the manifest. You are the changeless substratum that supports the ever-changing. You can see, but you have no eyes. You can hear, but you need no ears. You can do, but you choose to just be. You are the spirit that is observing and experiencing itself through you and through all that you do with your body and mind.”

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I don’t get you,” said Ben, confused and hesitant.

“I know you don’t,” the monk chuckled, “You wish to know your spirit through words, which are the creation of the mind. They are labels which are mind’s attempts to comprehend life. Your limited mind cannot grasp what is essentially limitless. The English vocabulary has not evolved enough for me to give you a peek into your soul. Can any word truly give you an experience? Can the four letters L-O-V-E truly reflect the magnificence of the experience of ‘love’?”

Ben tried catching the monk’s words like pearls falling from the sky. He, however, still struggled to comprehend.

“I don’t think I still get you,” Ben pleaded, “please give me the answer.”

“You cannot get the answer Ben,” the monk said sanguinely, “You have to experience the answer. It cannot be told to you, for your true self is beyond words. You cannot ask this question to the outer world, for you have to seek the answer in the inner universe. You cannot think the answer, for your very thought prevents you from seeing deeper. You have to silence the voices in your head to hear the whispers from beyond.”
The monk came closer to Ben and held his hand with his chapped but strangely warm hands.

“Close your eyes Ben,” said the monk with such hypnotizing love and peace that Ben could only follow him. Every subsequent statement took Ben deeper into tranquility, “Stay in the moment. Go within. Simply witness your thoughts. Just observe them as they come and go. Feel your breath. As the thoughts wane, be with the silence.”

Saying this, the monk left Ben’s hand. Ben felt the moment. He spread his hands as if embracing the wind. It’s chillness no longer mattered to him.

“In this silence,” Ben heard the monk’s voice “you access your true essence, the stuff that you are. You are now ready to receive the message from your ‘self’.”

Ben stayed that way welcoming the moment, the wind, the fragrance, the eternity and the universe into his fold.  He could hear his breath over the din of the traffic. Moments after moments collected in the lap of his eternal self that kept him still. Ben lost the sense of time. His breathing slowed down, he smiled as he started accessing the bliss of his being. He felt the hair on his skin raising, mouth started twitching, his chest started heaving, his hands started shivering and eyes started watering.

“I … I see the Himalayas,” he spurted with tears of joy gushing from the corners of his eyes.

When Ben opened his eyes, the sun had long set while the garden lights had come to life. The monk was not around but that didn’t stop Ben’s most genuine smile in days and glow from within. Ben knew where he would find the monk and experience his answer.

Wednesday, December 05, 2012


When I look at the sky,
I don't see the sky;
I see the limitless universe
pouring in my limited eye. 

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

दुबई - Dubai

दुबई रातको जगमगा उठती है 
सितारों से शायद होड़ करती है 
इसकी चमक को क्या नाम दें
सूरज तो ये नहीं 
फिरभी तारों को छुपा देती है

Dubai shimmers at night 
perhaps, it's competing with the stars. 
What name do we give to its glitter? 
It's not the sun and yet
it hides the stars. 

Tuesday, October 23, 2012


The sun doesn’t brag that it’s bright,
a bird is not vane in its flight.
A peacock doesn’t boast of its dance,
a swan has no conceit in romance.

The sky is not proud of its size,
nature doesn’t say it is wise.
What good O’ man is your pride?
Beware! It's taking you for a ride. 

Saturday, October 13, 2012

When was the last time?

When was the last time
you felt in your prime,
smelt roses in a garden,
danced in the rain,
saw the freedom in a child’s smile,
spent a moment you wanted again,
told yourself ‘it’s fine’,
felt like you had all the time?

When was the last time
you watched the crimson sunrise,
and the serenity of the sunset,
saw the soul in a dog’s eyes,
made a grand day for someone
through random act of kindness,
felt a moment to die without regret,
felt you’ve realized your purpose?

When was the last time
you felt bliss all around,
you chose to not judge,
from goodness you didn't budge,
danced like no one’s watching,
felt pain without suffering,
believed you were truly rich,
ambled around bare-feet?

When was the last time
you took a deep deep breath,
ran till you almost died,
felt so good you cried,
acted out of your mind,
let out the inner child,
bathed in the sea,
or just somersaulted?

When was the last time
you had goose bumps,
made peace with yourself,
forgave others and thyself,
said hello to your soul,
truly followed your heart,
went beyond me and my,
asked yourself ‘who am I?’

When was the last time
you simply hugged yourself
or hugged a tree,
felt truly free,
drove a bicycle,
rambled without a cellphone,
wallowed in the sand,
or kissed the moon?

When was the last time
you saw a rainbow,
slept on the grass,
rolled over a slope,
jumped many stairs,
chose stairs over escalators,
watched the glory of an eclipse,
guessed the shapes of the stars?

When was the last time
you laughed and cried at the same time,
climbed a mountain,
opened your arms to the breeze,
blessed every moment,
jumped with joy,
heard your echo,
felt good about letting go?

When was the last time
you stuck your neck out a speeding train,
you did not hurry,
nor give in to worry,
sang in the shower,
hugged a stranger,
you loved yourself
and just sat still?

When was the last time
you felt your oneness with all,
you felt truly blessed
and saw a win in your loss,
to no-one in particular
said a heartfelt thank you,
felt there was nothing to do
only to be?

When was the last time
you did something for the first time? 

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

The fount of true love

When pain ceases to make you suffer.
When solitude over shallow company you prefer.
When body and mind are not
your highest sources of pleasure.

When you drink from the nectar of divinity
and bathe in joyous stream eternally.
When the other is not your only friend.
When being alone is not being lonely.

When closing your eyes takes you to a trance,
when going within is a mirthful romance,
when peace performs a perennial dance,
when compassion to flow spares not a chance.

When a caged bird is not your beloved
but the one flying freely in the sky.
When you need not possess to feel loved,
her absence won't make you feel unloved.

When the world loses its power to ruffle you,
when the events around can’t so much as touch you.
When you’re solid like a rock and yet gentle like a dove,
then you know you’ve found the fount of true love.  

Saturday, August 11, 2012

कविता तो मैं करता नहीं

कविता तो मैं करता नहीं 
ये तो मुझसे होके गुज़रती है. 

ये तो सर्वत्र सरल तरंगें हैं जो 
मेरे खुले मन को छू जाती हैं. 

ये तो नग्न भावनाएँ हैं ज़िन्दगी की जो 
मुझसे शब्दों के आवरण पहन जाती हैं.


I don’t write poetry;
it passes through me.

These are omnipresent vibrations
that touch my open heart.

These are naked feelings of life
that I clothe with words. 

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Are we truly free?

Cold makes us shiver,
heat makes us sweat,
pain makes us cringe
and rain makes us wet.

At night we sleep
and wake in the day.
Every few hours,
we need to eat our hay.

Trample a dog’s tail
and it bites.
Brush a man the wrong way
and he spites.

We dance to the tune of money
and relish the taste of fame.
We rejoice the smell of power
but lose ourselves in that game.

So bound are we to these instincts
and so enslaved by this law,
that to call ourselves free
is but a major flaw.

Far away, there is a place,
so true and so free,
that it needs no law
save the one that lets you be.

That is a place of knowing,
where man his true self knows,
where love is all there is
and freedom truly flows.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Tears roll a lot nowadays

I know not how to share the love that swells within me,
or to express the gratitude that often overwhelms me.
I fail to contain the bliss that breaks the dam inside.
I can't have enough of what the present brings for me.

The freedom of my unencumbered spirit breaks the chains,
the vastness of the universe gushes within the bodily remains.
The eternity of now implodes and explodes in turns,
as I wallow in the divine gurgle of many a streams.

I don't know how to let this moment pass
without electrifying my being's existence.
I can't help getting burnt in this blaze,
so blissful tears roll a lot nowadays.

Wednesday, July 04, 2012

खुदको रोक न पाए हम

ज़िन्दगी की बड़ी आरज़ू थी कभी 
पर मौत को देख खुदको रोक न पाए हम 

तुझसे मोहब्बत की बड़ी तमन्ना थी कभी 
पर खुदको देख खुदको रोक न पाए हम 

Zindagi ki badi aarzoo thi kabhi 
par maut ko dekh khudko rok na paye hum 

tujhse mohabbat ki badi tamanna thi kabhi 
par khudko dekh khudko rok na paye hum 

There was a time when I yearned for life 
But when I saw death, I couldn't stop myself. 

There was a time when I yearned for you 
But when I saw myself, I couldn't stop myself.

Thursday, June 07, 2012

Life in a moment

I gazed at the crimson sky.
The sky kissed the sea at the horizon.
The sea carried a ship in the distance.
The ship blew smoke in the air.
The air cushioned birds’ flight.
The birds chirped out of their nests.
The nests were perched on the branches.
The branches had swings fastened on them.
The swings entertained the kids.
The kids made sand castles.
Sand was dug by turtles.
Turtles were fed by people.
People were watched over by coastguards.
The coastguards observed the vista.
The vista had the morning sun.
The sun made the sky crimson.
The sky filled me with its vastness.
I saw the mosaic of life
unfold in a moment.

Saturday, June 02, 2012

Divine plan unfolds

Silence or no silence, 
mind or no mind, 
ego or no ego, 
acceptance or resistance,
the divine plan unfolds 
through all.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Do our eyes see the truth?

One fine evening, I lied on the grass and gazed blankly at the sky. The birds had long stopped chirping and were blissfully asleep. The moon’s crescent was the biggest source of light in the sky which was bedecked with numerous twinkling stars. I spent a few childish moments guessing the shapes of the constellation. Suddenly, a question struck me. Are the stars truly there or these are just the illusion of my eye? Science answered this question for me.

A basic principle of optical physics is that we see things when light originating from the object enters our eyes. We also know that light, traveling at a speed of 300,000 kms/sec, takes about 8 minutes to reach earth from the sun. This means that the sun we see from earth is how it was eight minutes before. If the sun gets extinguished due to any reason, we will continue to see it for 8 more minutes. Similarly, light from the stars take many (tens, hundreds or millions) light years to reach the earth. Considering this, we may actually be seeing the stars that don’t even exist. In any case, the stars that we see are what existed many many years ago. So our physical sense of vision is focused on the past, on what has happened. We can't even see the present. So do our eyes really see the truth?

To our eyes, a leaf appears green because it reflects green colour. So the leaf is green from the perspective of our eyes. But the truth is that the leaf has discarded the green and absorbed everything else. So what is the true colour of the leaf – the colour our eyes see or that which it absorbs?

Going by this simple logic, it is easy to extrapolate that the people who we call white or fair are the ones who reflect maximum light and absorb little. The people who we call black or dark absorb maximum light and reflect little. So who is more of a being of light and who is truly dark from within? 

Do our eyes see the truth? Hmn ... time to reflect.

Friday, April 13, 2012

420 - How God communicates with me

Trust comes easily to me. I’m naturally inclined to err on the side of compassion and trust over apathy and doubt. As with everything else, this choice too comes with its own pros and cons.

I have learnt that life brings us more and more incidents that seem to reinforce the energy that we emanate. So I keep getting a lot of opportunities to be compassionate with and help people around me in whatever way I can. But this signal from me also draws a lot of unscrupulous characters ready to take advantage of this trait of mine.

Without getting into the details, let me just say that my predisposition to trust has proven costly in many ways. Help given with the highest of intentions was misused in many cases. It pained me a lot although there was no feeling of revenge or retribution.

I still sought a power of discrimination to separate the wheat from the chaff. I also realized that my mind always seemed to have limited data and drew me towards not helping. One undesirable outcome was good enough for the mind to close the doors of compassion. However, every time I allowed my mind to takeover, a part of me died. What if the person really needed it? The confusion pained even more than the pain of being cheated. I accepted my inability to find out and hence surrendered my feelings to God to help me with this dilemma. I want to help genuine people, I prayed. Please show me the way, I beseeched. With that, I just left it to the higher intelligence to take care.

During one such dilemma, I left home one afternoon for some work. I stopped my car at a traffic signal. As I waited for the lights to turn green, I noticed an advertisement hoarding by the roadside showing a phone no. 5642067. Then I happened to look at the number plate of the car in front of me: 54205. Then my eyes fell on the car clock on the dashboard. It was 4: 20 pm. I chuckled as I said, ‘Char so bees’ (four twenty, the number 420 for Indians means a cheat or a crook.)  Just as I said that, something snapped in me. I looked at the car number plate again: 54205. I was zapped. I looked up at the hoarding and skipped a beat: 5642067. The number 420 being all around me was not a tremendous coincidence. The divine intelligence was telling me that the dilemma I was grappling with then was a case of a crook. So refrain from believing the person who is seeking help.

I was drawn in silence at that moment, unable to believe what I saw and the inference that I deduced from it. Can I believe it? What if this is just a coincidence? My mind, beset in logic, wanted to create all sorts of doubts. My heart wanted to believe this as a message. Eventually, I stayed with the message and did not help the person financially. Very soon, the choice was proven right.

Since then, every time I face this dilemma, I toss it up for the universe to give me a signal. The number 420 has occurred to me in the most unusual of circumstances since then: newspapers, magazines, books, TV, ID cards numbers, radio, two people exchanging phone numbers and many more. If I don’t see 420 within 24 hours after tossing this question, I believe that the person is genuine and I give more than I have been asked for. If I don’t have the luxury of time, then I go by my gut feeling. One of the more surprising thing is that when I’m trying to do something against my heart, the number pops up from somewhere. It tells me I’m cheating myself. I instantly hold off doing whatever I’m doing and bask in this wisdom from above.  

I strongly believe that when we accept our limitations and surrender our will to higher intelligence, it takes care of us. Such messages are relayed to all of us in various ways. Higher intelligence has as many ways of reaching out as there are people. 

God talks to everyone. The issue is not who God talks to, but who listens. Do we really have our eyes, ears, minds and hearts open to receive what is coming? 

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Hide and Seek

I play hide and seek with him.
My friend, or so I thought.
He hides me from myself
while I seek me through him.

He distracts me often
from the task at hand,
creates dreams and wonders,
builds castles from sand.

He often succeeds at beating me,
and I let him beat me too.
He makes me run after the mirage.
But now, I’m tired of running.

I ran so far in this chase,
I came so deep in this game,
that I forgot I’m just playing
and mistook this game for my life.

But just as I remember
that I’m only playing a game,
I can see through him
and find me peeking at myself.

Saturday, March 03, 2012

True love has nothing to do with the other person

Yes. You read it right. True love has nothing to do with the other person, only yourself. I know I have jarred you to the edge of the seat in shocked disbelief with a statement that every cell of your body knows is as incorrect as ‘The sun rises from the west.’ 

Let us start with our conventional idea of love. People fancy true love as that exalted feeling of happiness when you are with that special someone and that sadness in the absence of that someone, not to mention a constant worry for their safety and wellbeing. This concept of love is only about the other. Where are you in this whole thing? The proponents of this belief may argue that love is only about the other person. After all, so many romantic best-sellers and movies cannot be wrong. If it is about you then it is not love, it is selfishness they would say. 

Let us take a leaf out of nature. A leaf of a tree is a grand and complete expression of itself. It just is. It is not there for somebody else. The fact that somebody else may use the leaf as food is another matter. A blade of grass is magnificently itself in every moment. It is under no pressure from nature to be someone else. A cow that eats grass is only projecting its nature abundantly. A cow’s existence is not about the grass but herself. It only follows its nature, the instincts it has been endowed with.

We know now that everything in nature expresses itself fully and is not bothered about others. Nothing in nature controls others' behavior. Nature only takes care of itself and its expressions. In the process, every blade of grass fills the landscape with green, every leaf rustles in the wind, every flower enriches the wind with its fragrance and every cow grazes in this abundance. The mosaic of life completes itself through these individual life forms expressing themselves and only themselves. This fullest expression of your ‘self’ is true love. 

Why then did we come up with the other idea of love? It is because we have alienated ourselves from our true nature. We have allowed our minds rather than our hearts to take over us. A human mind, obsessed with size and importance, may question the wisdom of a leaf’s peace with being just a leaf and not wanting to be a tree. If a blade of grass had a human mind, it would dream of becoming the cow and turning the cow into grass. And then it would be sad when it realizes that this is not possible. Mind always wants to be somebody else and wants others to constantly be somebody else. It always wants us to be in the future or the past instead of being at peace with the now. 

Nature does not know time. It only knows the moment, the now. The more you stay with nature, the more you will learn to live in the moment. By being aware of the moment, you give space for the real you, which is the fountainhead of true love and bliss, to express itself more freely. In that space, you experience the joy and love which is unconditional, eternal and free. From that space, you ooze love and happiness irrespective of your partner’s proximity just as the sun emits light for all. Love has nothing to do with the object but everything to do with the subject. 

A flower will shower its fragrance on you irrespective of whether you pluck it, crush it under your feet, squeeze it or just let it be in its grand expression at the edge of a stem. 

True love has the vastness of the sky, the spirit of the sun, the omnipresence of air, the fragrance of flower and the nurturing of nature. 

True love does not filter itself. It just flows from you - eternally, unconditionally and freely. 

True Love

True love has
the vastness of the sky,
the spirit of the sun,
the omnipresence of the air,
the fragrance of the flower,
and the nurturing of nature. 

Friday, February 17, 2012


The vastness of the sky consumes me.
The smallness of a speck subsumes in me.

I'm like a globule melting in all.
I'm like a fire melting it all.

Everything around merges in me,
even as I merge in the other me.

Saturday, January 28, 2012


Whenever someone compliments me, I do feel happy. However, I immediately move to witness consciousness and see a part of me feeling happy. I also notice that the part that feels happy wants more of it, the compliments sound like music to that part and it expands. 

Whenever someone criticizes me, I do feel sad. However,I quickly move to witness consciousness and see a part of me feeling sad. I also notice that the part that feels sad wants less of it, the criticism feels like poison to that part and it shrivels. 

And then I ask myself, who am I? The part that expands or contracts depending on the external stimuli or the part that observes myself reacting, feeling. 

The more I stay in this mode, the more I realize that I'm the latter. And it starts to feel good without any external influence. In that moment, I realize that 'I just am' and the moment becomes bliss.