What a Day to Die

The rain falls ,

an earthen odour fills the heart

each sense plugged into the nature

an ecstacy, a holy frenzy, a heavenly  bliss prevails

A wounded sage, smiles through the cracks on his lips

his broken body livens up with each drop of the rain

he dances to an inner tune,

in peace, he moves with the grace of an angel,

it is then when lightning strikes,

and the mortal act of joy of the mad mad sage is immortalised,

by an act Divine.

Advertisements

In Search of You!

I am here at the altar,

I beseech You for an answer,

I saw you wandering in the dark,

and running seamless in a streak of light,

I saw you singing at a shrine,

I saw you crying at the funeral of a loved one,

I saw you angered by the mob that chased you and

the kids that poked you with a stick because you

were homeless and dirty, you were crazy they said,

I saw you praying in synagogue, I saw you kneeling in a church,

I saw you in a mosque, I could say you were at home,

I saw you raging in the waters and thundering in the clouds,

I saw you red, I saw you green, I saw you in the rainbow,

And on the palette of an artist, wanting to be painted,

Yearning to be seen,

I saw you in the wisdom of an old man’s whisper,

and in the follies of the youth that sees nothing but his dreams,

I looked around and I saw you, I closed my eyes and I saw you,

I looked at me and I saw you,

I saw you as I saw me,

I was wondering if you could tell me,

All this while,

had I been looking for myself?!

Anatomy of choice

The life we choose to live is the result of the choices we make. Our path is determined not by singular decisions but rather by our reaction to what comes our way.

I have been searching for questions far longer than I have been for answers. Inquisition has been the theme of my life. We do the things we do, unaware, till we realize what we are doing and certain patterns began to emerge – our characters are formed. Good or bad, we spend the rest of our lives thinking along those patterns, defending our choices which initially were not the result of profound thought rather an accident.