Archive for February, 2013

who knows the stains might go away

wash your hands, Maa Kali soiled with digging my grave in a lake of my tears who knows the stains might go away never once should you suspect my devotion was inadequate even if i was i have not damned my tears so they will flow but the lake is still drying may be the [...]

unwillingness to hear, you are a brute rock

unwillingness to hear, you are a brute rock why do you deceive yourself why have you squeezed the spongy self of yourself so hard why have you lost the willingness to dissolve in the desire of a damp dark corner to let bats nest there,

ma kaali, be fair, by being ruthless

dont be considerate, O Ma Kaali, dont; just be your ruthless self, one can deal with your ferocious contempt for any thing ordinary, its is your compassion which makes life difficult, one almost feels that he has been forgiven again for being less than what he could have been, dont be considerate, dont….

losing patience, but why…

whenever we lose patience, we are either unhappy with ourselves or with some one who has not understood what we want to say. either way it is our own handicap. after all, if every body understood each other well, will there be any scope for dialogue, poetry , art and culture, are not all these [...]

when the placid leaves dont stir, Kaali ma, will u listen

when the placid leaves dont stir, Kaali ma, will u listen will you care to undress my ego which does not let me see though the curtains of desires i have put on all my windows when will you tear apart all the rainbows i have woven in my eyes so painstakingly thinking that i [...]

can pathways be repaired

when a gardener is not happy with the seeds he has sown he can not tend them with care last night, the smiles we borrowed from those who could not have said no because they trusted us, or because they are vulnerable or that they are more generous but they let us walk on a [...]

unstringed, let them flow

argue you can argue again and again that there is no truth all that happens is just a flow of moments like a garland which was never made all the beads lie scattered but then some of the beads refuse to be lost what do i do collect them make a string of beads the [...]

but the words

the words words that are are they just words but no, they carried the sounds touch smell but the words which ones, the ones i heard or the ones you felt i did not hear was i deaf or just unable to bear the burden of their truth do i know do i