Fortress of Consciousness

The fortress stood tall amidst the ruins of human flesh,
the heart which could not be reached was breached.
At the helm of it was the Mystic Lord,
majestic in His garb of naked wilderness,
wielding the axe of desirelessness with a voidless gaze.
Leading a pack of savage darkness filled with hunger,
to consume the fortress of consciousness
that stood tall all along, in an ocean of deceit.

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When

when will this analysis stop,

when will this rationalizing cease,

when will this emotion vapourize,

when will this craving melt,

when will this senses dysfunction,

when will this pride fall,

when will this intoxication slip,

when will this desire extinguish,

when will this seeking disappear,

when will this pleasure sour,

when will this pain neutralize,

when will this lonliness jam,

when will this beginning end,

when will this end transform,

when will this energy die,

when will this reasoning lose,

when will this logic surrender,

when will this learning dip,

when will this knowledge empty,

when will this search set,

when will this love leave,

when will this good burn,

when will this bad negate,

when will this mind disolve,

when will this focus clear,

when will this body abort,

when will this luck disperse,

when will this abundance hinder,

when will this answer fail,

when will this solace wane,

when will this understanding dawn,

when will this sleeplessness awake,

when will this seperateness fill,

when will this puzzle complete,

when will this grace arrive,

when will this identity solve,

when will I will.

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Deja Vu

The paths are short, but the journey long.

I have worn this garb of flesh and bones, many a time,

yet it feels different everytime.

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Foolin' around

From the infinite
i emerge as a finite,
hidden in a human form
for my soul is naked.

Living in a transient reality,
a construct of my karmic past,
the future seeds are sown
on a soil I call home?

Caged by time,
bound by thought,
fueled by freewill,
the descended being, existed
in a plane of unconsciousness.
Like a streak of light that splits
into myriad rays passing through a prism,
so did the trapped soul
vibrated with life as it broke free.

Scarred by its destined glory,
the finite submerged back into the infinity.

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Electronic Fire

The strings hum,

if not the same note,

atleast one among seven

we already know.

The wine tastes the same,

if not better with age,

yet in essence it is the same pulp.

The chef brews the tasty stew,

that lacks a personal touch,

for it is the electronic fire that cooks it.

All seem the same,

nothing changed,

nothing missing,

except you.

For it was not the music

neither the wine,

nor the warm fire,

or the tasty flesh,

that made the moment,

but you.

I sit all alone,

just as i came in,

waiting for the hour,

to return yet alone.

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Time for a "GREEN LEGACY"

It's time to leave behind a "Green Legacy". We all always wanted to do something but never did anything except sign petitions and talk about it. Here is an opportunity to act on something. Something you could do as part of everyday task that could help put back some green in this planet.

Help recycle paper and plant a tree in your very own name in Dubai. Visit www.mytreeindubai.com

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Wake Up

It's been a year,

since i lost her to time,
without saying a word,
she bid her goodbye,
into the fading twilight,
leaving behind a haunting silence,
that is infinite.

Yet again, I lose her to time,
the memory i hold so dear,
as I go about quenching
my karmic desires,
in a refugee's attire,
thinking time is a healer,
not knowing the silence
still awaits me,
when it is all but over.

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ABYSS PATH

The path unwinds
into depths unknown.

A course never charted before,
a destination never heard before,
a land never seen before,
a doubt persists if it all exists,
for there are no witnesses to testify,
footprints to track, nor signposts to heed.

Darkness surrounds, gloom looms,
time churns a numerous luminous paths,
filled with good and bad,
blossomed with love and care,
name and fame,
glittered with duality of consciousness.

Yet, down this unknown hideous path
this birth or another,
a journey has to be made,
on a path paved with daggers,
into the dense cover,
a maddening wilderness,
solitude the only companion,
silence the only stir,
where it is not the test of stamina,
but the that of the will.
resolute and absolute.

i pace up and down,
not going beyond a mile,
frightened, am I, for not what lay ahead,
but what one has to leave behind.

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Mercenary of Wisdom

Amidst the ruins of time
of wrecked civilizations & chaotic science,
stood the mercenary of wisdom,
clad in armor of theories,
guarded by a shield of inferences,
swirling a sharp sword
cast of knowledge
he's read & heard before.

Years of hoarding and pursuit
while the wisdom gathered cobwebs,
now he stood braving a foe,
never read before.

Unlike any rehearsed character,
or defined in aged texts,
the abridged yet unabridged,
a simile very much a metaphor,
a verb inherent in a noun
without adjectives to qualify
stood its ground, poised.
Whose moves the mercenary couldn't counter
with his reflexes of intellect.
or with the agility of mind.

the blade of knowledge blunted,
theories tested, findings shredded,
all exhausted, unlearning the learning
did the mercenary of knowledge,
gasp for more to grasp the elusive illusion
of control.

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MYRIAD SILENCE

Can't be seen but heard.
Can't be touched but felt.
Can't be shed but said.
Can't be sensed but fed.
Can't be taught but known.
Can't be enslaved but mastered.
Can't be tied but freed.
Can't be emptied for there is nothing.

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EYES

Her eyes never left me,
even for a while,
even though i had mine
on the worldly delights.

Her eyes followed me,
where ever i did go,
in form of a call or a prayer,
i never heeded.

Her eyes were awake,
day and night,
so i could rest mine
without fear.

Her eyes closed on me,
forever, one fine day,
while i had mine elsewhere.

Her eyes, i do miss them now.


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Space

Stranded in an intergalactic causeway,
reclined on a signpost muddled by cosmic dust.

Amused by myriad stars that illuminate a perplexed gaze,
anchored to a organic dimension that propels inertia.

Gagged by the alien echoes that vibrate stillness,
limited by an expansive horizon that imparts ignorance.

Wrecked by hyperspeed that derails thoughts,
ostracized by a trajectory pattern that navigates adherence.

Fragmented by the destruction of mother ship,
the orphaned space wanderer, awaited.

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MINE

i shared her breath as one,
till i could find mine.

i sucked her energy,
so i could nurture mine.

i was in her arms,
till i could flex mine.

I didn't listen when she uttered,
a name that was mine

i never heard her prayers,
as i made noise of mine.

I didn't feel her pain when i was
lost in a world of mine.

I didn't see her sacrifice,
as i was busy with a life of mine,

i couldn't repay her when
the time was mine.

i thought she would stay forever
only to realize later,
she was never mine
and nothing is mine.


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BEING

Naked in the hallway of thousand door frames
'the being' waited for the thought to enter.

Through the arch way the being traveled
into a cell which was a nucleus.
Weaving a membrane to conceal the core
the being formed a chromosome.

X and Y were plotted, to trace back
the origin in case the thought abandoned.

Building the blocks, the mutated being
took an alien form of pure fiber.

Crawling out of hibernation, the besieged being
progressed in a linear fashion.
On the threshold of a new doorway
transforming becoming the change.

In and out of every frame, until it became humane.
Having camouflaged its inherent gene,
the human being looks into the mirror
which does not reveal the real picture.

Accumulated layers of evolution,
aging and growing with every travel
the being bewildered, pondered.

Regressing the progress, the being
traveled in a cyclic fashion,
cracking the value of X&Y.

Without compasses or guiding force,
all alone, ceasing the duality,
singular in entity, creeping back,
in essence, progressing ahead
deciphering the tracks forgotten
navigating to a conclusion
stepping back and forth
through the unlocked doors
shedding, withering and shredding
every thought of awareness

deep into the abyss of statelessness
the stale being wandered, solving X&Y.
And much deeper to the lost base
before anything ever occurred.

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PATTERN PICKER

Grazing through the time ripple,
of events and incidents gone by.

Identifying a connection
for choices seem to be made in isolation
whose repercussions,
echoes in progression.

Occurrences like the tangram pieces,
random in nature,
piecing them together,
to structure a picture,
beyond human comprehension.

Decisions sewn, not taken
by thread of accumulation,
not woven in this piece of creation
but many before
whose patterns are forgotten.

The Pattern Picker gazes
into the clues of weaves
that has been churned
since measure immemorial.

Chalking out a direction,
mapping a course of action,
for he is lost in the pattern.

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