anil gupta's blog

Pains are not the purpose
Nor will they end
By cutting the arm
Or eyes
Which bleed
It is the sensation
Of being there
When one needs no curtains
No doors
No assurance
And no balance
To weigh
What was equated
With what
Heal your ego
Feed your ego
Let it swallow
All the pain
Lest
One forgets
Pain is not the purpose
Pain can only
Be a tunnel
To pass through
Before light liberates
The joyful
Feeling of being there

Wait is almost over
Spring is too far
But the

Flowers are in bloom
Dont tighten your embrace

You remind me of your fears
You have nothing to worry tomorrow
Street is empty
Walk on
No dogs to frighten
No body to threaten
Relax
Fly
Dont ask
Why

a lot of eyes sprouted in my in side
they all see me from different angles
sometimes they look at me as if i am a stranger
sometimes
they see me as a old forgotten friend
and sometimes
as someone they despise
but they still look at me
what else matters
nothing

no shout
no claim
no scream
no allegation of asymmetry
no cloak of contrived meaning
just truth, a drop of truth,
undiluted
unpolished

fragmented faith
could not have persuaded Him to
give away his life for our misdeeds
but life He did give away
were our frailties
and inadequacies
the reason or consequence of His magnanimity?

now, the fragments have been joined
by a maze of pathways
let me abandon them all
and sleep away
under a tree
whose roots may have been cut
by some indifferent gardener
but so long as shadows survive
We will not have to hang Him again
resurrection may also not be needed
His spirit will reverberate in our hearts
like ripples in the lake
in which you threw the stone i gave you
to jeep on your table
to prevent all the fragile fragments flying away

dont worry, forget that
no need to care for stone
or the fragments
all is forgotten
and forgiven
move on
find your way through the maze
quietly and confidently
move on

joyful victories
of a small frog in a big lake
and cris of a big frog in a small pool
all in a day

making a difference
persuading the new
journeymen
walking along
all in a day

cries of an old tree
unable to bear haphazard pruning
shedding all the flowers
all in a day

smiles of a quiet
devotee
at the altar of Maa kaali
all in a day

if the salience is subtracted from silence
does it become laughter
does it matter?

who can restrict any body from
trivializing the search for substance
after all
trivia can provide
the much needed respite
from meaningless chase
of a wandering ship
for the safe spot
for throwing the anchor
laugh, o wave laugh
lest the froth on the shore
bemoans
the sound of
the empty cans
unable to scare the birds away
in a parched land
with shrunk crop

gems
dont know
the sparkle with in
so sure of darkness
in the heart
they are able to
colour
all canvases black
but then once in a while
unexpected things happen
cracks in the
coat of creative self
make the light escape inner recess
truth and beauty start to possess

in the playground of memories
don’t throw a ball like this
nostalgia is not about regrets but about
failed expectations
we dont soak ourselves in the rain
to catch cold,
we catch cold
because we enjoy getting soaked
causality is not bidirectional always
dont look for hopes in the embers
i have seen dance of death
today
let us play violin a bit slowly
death cant dance fast
death of ideas
death of a promise
not of a potential
and therefore throwing a ball
like this doesn’t make sense
weeds have grown in the playground
let us leave it now as it is
take care
cocklebur
will stick to your skirt
take care
monastery is waiting for you
go
pray
meditate
be silent
i want to be silent too