The Bard

The Bard ensconced crooning on the guitar,

Of kings and kingdoms and shepherds plenteous,

Opulence and beatitude and abjection and pang,

The story of mankind in its lanes and by-lanes.

With cherubs and dames and greybeards around,

All stupefied and beguiled with sheen in their eyes,

To his fables and legends that reflected their lives.

The Bard ensconced crooning on the guitar,

Till the drowsy sun slept and the moon ensued,

Burnishing the night sky with its charming semblance,

Relinquished by those who doted on his lyrics.

When I heard him murmuring the song of life,

Smiles obliterated and tears conferred by compeers,

Smiles conferred and tears obliterated by outlanders.

The Bard ensconced crooning on the guitar,

Of the wounds that led to changing lives,

Of the charities bestowed by unknown populace,

Of the rains that accorded greenery to fields.

Praising the invisible rapturous hands of love,

Eulogizing the unconditional ubiquity of hope,

Applauding darkness to transpire the light.

The Bard ensconced crooning on the guitar,

When men tussled with destiny to surmount,

When determination humbled all nefarious,

When humanity confounded even the invincible.

Another

Another milestone achieved,

Another lesson learnt,

Another smile beamed,

Another tear lurched,

Another pain clasped,

Another pith gained,
Another flower wilted,
Another bud blossomed,

Another image obscured,

Another insight poured,

Another debility humbled,

Another  twaddle drubbed,

Another mark made,

Another vista earned,

Another day wended,

Another  journey interposed.  

I Thought

I thought I saw a Jelly Fish,

Leisurely swimming in the pond,

But it turned out to be a Wish,

Melodiously humming my favourite song.

I thought I saw a blazing Gun,

Threatening folks with its barrel,

But it turned out to be happy Children,

Having fun and zillion stories to tell.

I thought I saw fresh Flowers,

Blossoming happiness to those who seek,

But it turned out to be rainy showers,

Washing tears secretly rolling down cheeks.

I thought I saw a Star anew,

Giving hope and optimism rife,

But it turned out to be you,

Erasing pain and renewing faith in life.

From Hunk to Monk

Sitting on the wrought-iron bench, watching the pearly waves slowly kissing the shores Milky suddenly glanced on a bunch of children playing football. They all looked so happy, engrossed, excited, care free and ignorant of the worries of everyday life. For them life was a game and game life. One of the kids though reminded her of somebody whom she chanced to meet some time back. This boy had the same twinkle in his eyes, naughty smile, intelligent forehead and strong arms. Milky called him and asked his name. He replied, “Paurus!” with the same commanding husky voice. That brought an immediate smile to her face. Reason being their names too were the same. She got up from the bench as it was nearing dark and sauntered along the beach towards her home.

Deliberately she took a longer route to her nest. This little boy brought back certain sweet memories in a flash. She saw herself in a cabin of a corporate. A Review meeting was scheduled. This was her first day in workplace after a long leave. As everyone was seated the CEO introduced them to one of the new members in the team. Tall, dark, bespectacled Hunk. “He is Paurus. Joining us from today.” Since the first meet Paurus looked different. What it was she could not immediately gauge. With time they all got to know a lot of ‘things’ about him. Some work related other related to his juicy personal life. There was no doubt what so ever that he was a hard worker, a complete workaholic. He showed tremendous outcomes within a short span. But as no one is perfect he too had his flaws. Short tempered, yes that was his biggest weakness. He got angry at small things, shouted at his subordinates for delays and soon earned himself the title of ‘Steamy Pot.’

Some envious ones whispered about his personal life as well. Some said he had a fetish for women, others said it was wine and still others claimed it was wine, women and wealth, the 3 important Ws (weaknesses) of life. The jealous tongues were wagging and elevating the already famous hunk almost to a stature of a celebrity. Milky had absolutely no idea about the mysterious Sphinx.

Soon life threw her right in front of him. They were both to work on the same project. Her well wishers warned her about him. Milky was more than cautious lest He took advantage. As expected he flirted on the very first day. She mused, “The Demi-God doesn't want to waste a day!” As time elapsed she was completely awestruck with his methodological ways. His control over subordinates, his intelligence, his ability to think beyond the normal, urge to innovate, change and re-engineer  He was all this and much more. Above all he inspired his peers to give their best. He not only asked them what to do but showed them how to do. He would often say, “Gems cannot be polished without friction.”  Milky realized that this man was much more than what he revealed to the world. What people talked about him was not all truth. She grew curious about him; something told her she knew him already. But time and again events proved her wrong. She would hear something cheesy about him every now and then. Sometimes it was about wealth, sometimes women. Wine did not trouble her much!

As the project progressed so did their friendship. Yes, they had groomed into the best of buddies. They shared everything; from favourite movie stars to food to stress to spirituality to teasing each other. They were comfortable in each other’s company. Now even wealth and women did not trouble her. They were friends for a life time. What Milky did not know was there was something troubling Paurus. This was devouring him slowly and gradually. He often complained about stress and being dirty. One day Paurus disappeared! There were no messages, no phone calls. He was probably giving himself time to realize the Truth.

Paurus did return but in a new Avatar! Head shaven, beard and more calm and composed. The twinkle in his eyes was replaced with Buddha-like serenity. The naughty smile was overtaken by Monk-like visage. Paurus had metamorphosed into a Hermit! He said once, “Every saint has a past and every sinner future.” This time again he had like a true leader not only asked what to do but showed to the world how to do! He never met her again after that; stopped even being friends with her. All this while she boasted of her own spirituality to him but this sinner showed her how stunted she was to him even when it came to spirituality.  The Hunk had transformed into a Monk. Detachment, work, meditation, aloofness, focus and goodness now epitomized him. She was happy for the Monk although she missed the Hunk. They were separated in the physical plane but were united in the spiritual realm. They never acknowledged it explicitly but the ‘Connect’ once established remained even stronger. She made last ditch efforts to stay beside her friend but the Monk had discovered the goal of his life. She was hurt deep down for losing a friend but happy that the friend was triumphant in finding himself. He had covered the journey of a life time in a short span, “From Hunk to Monk.”

Two streams

Two milky streams flow independently, instilling life to varied grass and weeds,

Happy to have life their way, ambitious, energetic and fun-filled,

Glistening myriad stones and pebbles, scuttling across lands and mountains,

Witnessing zillion people and civilizations, oblivious of their common origin,

Sharing waters unknowingly deep down, getting replenished from the same glacier,

Scared of proximity fearing loss of identity, heedless that union will bring volume and strength,

Fighting destiny abortively for many quarters, becoming one Ocean assuming invincible stature,

Conquering Patience, trust, time and pain, transforming into immortality…

Flower, Star and Wishing Star

There are flowers and there are stars and then there is a Wishing star. All of them have enamored mankind since its very inception. Their existence can be dated back into mythological times and this renders a dash of mysticism to them. They bewitch us, tempt us, and intrigue us in their own individual ways. Flowers can be seen by the eye, felt with hands and smelt with nose .Many flowers have been identified with various Gods and Goddesses which elevates them to position of reverence and awe. In Hindu Mythology ‘Lotus’ is often Lord Brahma Himself personified. Stars can be seen by the eye and in some way felt by few fortunate beings. Stars are many, each one symbolizing something animated in the large azure expanse of the sky. Wishing star is a class apart. It can be seen but not with the naked eye, felt but not with hands, smelt but not with nose, heard but not with ears and communicated with by only one special individual. Since ages men and women have dreamt about Wishing star and believed that there is one for every one. But very few have the fortune in a Life time to have a chance encounter with one’s Wishing Star.

This Wishing Star may not always be on the skies above. It may be found anywhere anytime and anyhow in the milieu around us. In the first confluence we may even fail to recognize it as it may deceive us by masquerading. But it is with time that one realizes the difference between this Wishing Star and flowers and stars. Once you recognize, it is impossible to let it go. It becomes an integral part of your life and sometimes life itself.  Flowers wither and lose their charm and fragrance with time. Stars too die out and vanish like a speck of dust in the ocean of galaxy. Wishing star blossoms, becomes more charming, and adds shine to the individual’s life as time elapses. Very often it feigns us with its negative dark side. It may even scare in certain cases. But with every communication it draws us closer to itself. One begins to admire it, idolize it, deify it and hold in veneration.

Unknowingly mortals begin to dream about possessing it forgetting that it’s a Wish Star which can be only wished and not owned. Fortuitous are the ones who happen to feel their wishing star. They can guide, advise, teach important lessons of life but not become yours. It is preposterous to even think of owning them. They are like wandering Clouds that bring blessed rain to our parched souls. They are cool breeze that bring succor to the breathless being. They show new paradigms and compel you to think beyond the archetypal. Their capacities to add the Midas touch to the life of those they brush past make them special. Do not try to bind them as that suffocates them. They are as free as the flowing rivulet. If you try to hold them they slither from your hands like sand. Let them be what they are best at. Being a Wishing Star!

The Clownish Life

Once in marketplace on a sultry May Saturday afternoon ‘Clown’ happened to meet Life in a book shop. Clown was searching for some fiction to tickle her creative mind and Life stood quietly in a corner in one of the aisles. At first Clown did not recognize her being their first close encounter. She looked like any middle aged woman but something about her bewitched the Clown completely. What it was Clown could not contemplate? With long silky tresses, big black eyes, glowing skin, childlike smile and an enigmatic aura about her she captivated Clown’s attention like a Bollywood heroine just out from a Yash Raj romantic flick. Clown soon noticed that it was not just Clown who was fascinated by her but there were few other ‘Gentlemen’ who looked enamoured. While Clown was still wondering whether to go to her and start a conversation one of the gentle men wasted no time and began flirting with her. She stood there motionless as if slyly smiling inside her bosom, as if mocking at him and asking him to stop fooling her. There was absolutely no emotion from her side and she moved ahead to the next aisle as if avoiding this gentle man. Clown was a mute witness to this entire event.

Life had barely managed to reach the next aisle another gentle man followed her. He seemed to be a known figure of the town and inquired as to who she was. Since this gentle man was high and mighty Life was a little scared. Out of reverence for his position in society she introduced herself in a feeble shaky voice and left in a jiffy. Moving on to the next aisle this Semi-God followed her and soon they both started conversing. Life realized she had a lot to learn from him. Thoughts, intellect, humour, creativity, likes, pains, stress, spirituality and yes sometimes love; they both exchanged what each felt for the other. It looked like the most perfect of bonding in such a small interval of time. To Clown they looked absolutely weird. Best friends forever that is how they described their relation. Clown left after sometime although she was quite enjoying their talks since Clown had a show in the evening.

Next week Clown again visited the book store this time for something on mythology. Clown could not understand her obsession with mythology, spirituality and philosophy since childhood. The unknown world beckoned to her more than the known. For some unknown reasons Clown felt more comfortable in the warm friendly arms of strangers than the cold strange hugs of friends. As Clown wobbled into the welcoming aisles she was pleasantly surprised to see Life standing right there in front of her. This time Life didn't look that attractive. There was sullenness about her. Her long tresses looked less silky, the big black eyes were a little less black, the glow of the skin had diminished, the smile had lost child-like innocence but she still held on to her enigmatic aura. What surprised Clown was that this time Life was staring straight into her. Clown noticed Life ambling towards her and in a second she was gazing at Clown with an intensity that shook Clown’s soul. There were questions she had for Clown.

Why was Life asking Clown questions? Who was she to ask her anything? What did Clown owe to her? Life gave her nothing. They didn't even know each other. But Life was adamant. She wanted answers. Clown asked Life to accompany her to the Circus Arena for a cup of coffee so that Clown could get a chance to at least know who she was. With a little hesitation Life agreed. In the next fifteen minutes they were sipping Irish coffee. Ah, the aroma of the place mesmerized Clown. The Amphitheater with its events added more excitement to the already hot Cup of Coffee. But Life was too persistent. Without wasting any time she introduced herself and described the various orgies of her lifespan. She had had quite eventful experiences. She had innumerable laughter but there were countless tears. She had moments of peace but stress had been the constant demon. Love filled the joyous hues but hatred and neglect made many wounds. Cheaters there were many and she still looked for loyalty and togetherness. Definitions changed with time so did people. Strangers became friends and friends turned strangers in the wink of an eye. Why yes why Life asked the Clown. But Clown stood confounded and bewildered.  Why was Life asking Clown all these questions? Where was Clown’s stake in all this? What was Clown’s responsibility? How was Clown answerable to Life? Before Clown could speak anything to Life she probably understood Clown’s dilemma. Life kept looking deeply into Clown’s eyes as if challenging Clown to look back at her. For once Clown too gathered courage and looked straight into hers. What Clown saw in her eyes took the very breath out of her. Clown felt being thrown down from a cliff. Like somebody hit Clown hard in the safest vaults of her heart, like the waves of the sea slithered underneath Clown’s feet taking away the sand and leaving Clown fumbling for grip. Clown saw her own reflection. The questions were her own. The persistent stubbornness for answers was her own. The echoing laughs her own, the painful tears her own, friendly strangers her own and strange friends too were her own. Life was asking for answers and Clown had none… Clown stood numb gazing at the void that lay in front of the Circus Arena hoping one day Life shall have her own answers….

Still

Birds vindicate your chuckle, Skies whimper with you,

Trees swing to your song, Flowers blossom your narration,

Streams mime your feelings; Winds invoke your thoughts,

Destiny seduces your wants; Hope beguiles your pain,

Heart is restless still; still Semblance is to be descried,

Motive is to be reckoned still; still desolate Soul rambles. 

She

Where the greatest Warrior lost,

Where the boundless Sun dimmed out,

Where the facile intelligentsia fumbled,

Where the indomitable Gods turned just idols,

There you stood all strong and mighty

Astounding the world with your doggedness

Those twinkle in your eyes,

That smile on your face,

And that spark in your soul!

Can You?

Can you hear what the deepest silence echoes?

Can you bear what the meekest tear conveys?

Can you speak what the faint heart drips?

Can you see what the pale eye grips?

Can you resonate what the wound cries?

Can you render what the smile hides?

Can you read what the quivering lip gushes?

Can you feel what the servile spirit touches?

Dyad

Rein -in said the intellect, Go-on muttered the heart,   

Keep it closeted advised sanity, Let it blossom chirped spring,

Strap-in shouted the milieu, Pour-it-out gesticulated the cloud,

Bridle it informed the day, Fructify resonated the night,

Harness it whispered fear, Manifest it dared faith,

Feign it counseled reality, Embrace it notified Life.

The Saint with a past or The Sinner with a future?

Many a time we find ourselves in words written. We can connect to what we read and place ourselves somewhere in between the story line, as probably one of its so many intricate characters. We feel like we breathe, eat, laugh, cry, make friends, hate and love just like one of them. It’s like the character is a mirror image of us. We can immediately relate to her/him. At times we find ourselves better in words not written. We instantly relate to the unwritten feelings, characters, incidents and events not explicitly expressed by the writer. The explicit becomes a mystery more to the self. The more you see a character in the book or some shade of that character, the more you begin to question. The answers to these questions are not easily available to us. Most importantly the question itself is not very clear to us. We fail to understand what we are actually searching for. The implicit then gives solace to the spirit. The outward causes more confusion, the hidden is where the key to all lies.

When we know little, doubts are few. We are quite convinced that whatever we know is correct and all true. But the real trouble starts brewing when we begin to know more and more. When our limited information starts spreading its wings to soar to greater heights of knowledge, doubts overshadow our thoughts. The various perspectives, opinions, advise all begin to blur the facts when instead they should be coming to our succor. We feel we were much happy and content when we listened only to ourselves. The moment we decide to lend our ears to others, clouds of doubt begin to brood dark. Indecisiveness crawls in and makes us wonder why?

We do get “Signs” from Super Natural that concludes to the affirmative, but “Signals” from naturals bring contradictions and haziness. On one side are the not-so- visible forces telling us that “This is it” but on the other side the all-visible forces around us telling us that “There is much more to it”. How does one decide, who does one trust? Where does one turn to? Should one listen to the opinions surrounding us all loud and clear or the low, feeble voice in the heart?

Which one is a better bet? The Saint who has a past or a self proclaimed Sinner looking for future?

Salutation

Musings stir the soul with empyrean melody

Every time the Winds whistle in the woods,

Delectable ripples immerse the apostate heart

Every time the Moon gleams in the vaulted sky,

Bereaved sensations tumult the forsaken soul

Every time the Ship relinquishes the safe harbor,

Sanguine Hope dawns the unassailable spirit

Every time Divine is envisaged in the temple.