The Tiger Business

The road passes through the dense forest,
I can stand and stare all I like,
For hours, days,
But soon I’ll have to walk the winding road,
Through the lush overgrowth,
Past the blueness of a cloud full of sky,
My fate hunts,
The king of the jungle knows no rules,
Interspersed with long stretches of silence,
The Sambar calls, the big cat moves,
Hungry,
Silently through the dry grass, predatory,
A fat paw in the air, ready for the kill,
Fleetingly, I know fear,
The pain experience is real,
I curse the Gods, the road, the rain,
Couldn’t there be an easy end?
Need, I die at the hands of the beast,
Clawing my flesh, baring his frightening teeth,
A coward would run,
I can’t,
All this while I thought I was one,
Bravery is not a new mood,
Merely, that the threats in the past weren’t real enough,
For valour to fan out like peacock feather,
The quarry must be trapped,
A cry of anguish or a bugle call,
The fervour to live, alone,
Can slay the tiger.

Sweetness Of Honey

If the sweetness is really honey,
Then the taste will linger beyond the hour,
Through the balmy days and the dreamless nights,
Through the flower laden trees in spring,
To the fallen leaves of a stern autumn,
The richness of honey will mesmerise,
Churning the restless sea of longing,
Devouring...
If the sweetness is really honey,
Those afraid to drink,
Stinted by fear,
Shall fill their chalice and rejoice in it.

If the sweetness is really honey,
Then like musk from a deer’s pouch,
The fragrance will spread for miles and miles,
And the strange winds will blow on faraway shores.

If the sweetness is really honey,
Deft fingers will allow the pale liquid from the hive,
To trickle into a glass jar,
But its sweet nectar will not be capped or stored.
And, if the sweetness is but honey,
The lost lovers will soon head home, sated, invigorated.

Ek Omkar Satnam

As the traveller journeys across the limitless,
Knowing eyes see the ocean in a wave,
A sly intellect, stilled, self-annihilates,
A torrent of rain soaks the mouth,
The cold wave from the north chills the nostrils,
The effigy of comprehension burns to ashes,
On this silk route to oneself,
The action drops, the chatter ceases,
In dissolves the ego state,
Ek Omkar Satnam,
He name alone resonates.

The Other

From darkness is born the miraculous light.

To have seen fear,
Is to have seen the scarred face of courage,
To have known failure,
Is to have known the exalted taste of victory,
To have felt hurt,
Is to have felt the pin-pricks of love,
For, today’s sinner is the saint of tomorrow,
His ugliness,
Merely a ruse to hide the exquisite inside.

Believe it or not,
The wicked are closer to finding God,
Their flaws like flowers,
Waiting to blossom when the season is right,
Just as the clouds of despair rain hard,
Only to fade into the rainbow of hope.

The Seer Rise

The river of life allows but a glimpse,
To the willing heart,
Eager to slip into the kingdom of calm,
Exiled are minds,
Even extraordinary ones,
Their brilliance fades,
Shies away from the no-mind...
A riveting consciousness dawns,
Gravity has no pull,
The form is left behind,
The seer rises,
The knower rises,
Transcendence of the dual, climbs its peak,
For that brief moment in time and space,
The being is reduced to his atom state,
Pure energy,
Light-essence,
One with that which is.

A Prophet In The Making

The storm is in the wind,
Or does it brew in me?
The Moon hides behind the clouds,
Or does it rest in my palm?
The stars shine in the sky,
Or their sparkle beholds my eye?
The birds sing to the trees,
Or is it me, they seek?
The Sun rises over the mountain,
Or the lamp burns between my brows?
The drop is of the ocean,
Or the ocean am I?
The bells ring faraway in the temple,
Or is it my consciousness waking?
The prayer in the mosque sings His praise,
Or is the prophet,
You and I kneeling on the ground?

The Buddha Way

In search of peace,
Men have scoured the earth,
Devoured the scriptures, chanted holy words,
A disillusioned Buddha walked for many years,
One day he sat under the Bodhi, fatigued,
The small mind no longer sought liberation,
In silence the big mind could be reached,
With eyes closed he could see,
Inactivity as opposed to purpose,
Is our reason to be,
In the Jungle of thoughts,
Peace is the distinct sound of a waterfall,
That travels inwards,
The absolute celebrates,
Stillness, the nature of being.