Beautiful birds are chirping sweet,
They were singing its praises,
I was saved by it,
From becoming someone who is praised and then not praised,
I was saved from ego deaths,
All its praises are my praises,
I sing along with others.
1. No people.
2. Noise.
3. Hunger, thirst or disease or fatigue.
4. No business or calls.
5. No distractions or thoughts or
6. Pitfalls.
7. hinder me or obstruct my vision.
8. This rendezvous is perfect.
9. I feel accomplished.
What do I see?
You asked.
And instead of tending the grazing cow away,
I chose to see it,
I didn’t respond,
Because the dancing sky has me dazed,
And it quenched my thirst,
With flute, drum and sirens.
Whatever I say about it,
Is like a lamp unto Sun,
What do I see?
I really don’t know.
It dances between
The void and being
The expanse of void
Is a place of supreme rest
Being is always striated with
Crests and valleys.
Neither you use the dance,
Nor the dance,
Uses you.
You become the dance,
The dance becomes you.
Rest drops.
The dropped rest,
Had utilitarian projects,
Socialist republic,
But no fruition.
The dance is the fruition.
Use or another object is foreign to its
Unique nondual rest.
1. After a bit of chat: in the library where they’re doing the final bits of rehearsal as they are going to present the act day after tomorrow.
2. I have drank the whole sky.
I keep drinking it.
Day in and day out,
The new skies keep appearing,
The thirst becomes even more intense,
Nothing can assuage it,
I have seen accounts of poets,
Who exalted the sublime beauty in their words,
I find liberation to be the myth,
It seems like imagination of a mind which is delusion ridden.
3. I thought I understood the dance!
Nobody understands it.
Human mind can experience something different from what it’s accustomed to,
Its quality may change,
But the mystery is eternal,
It’s profound,
Underlying all phenomena,
Its effects are known,
Mostly to convert people into lunatics,
Raving lunatics who laugh hysterically when called names,
Eternally seeking their beloved.
It’s never what one assumes it to be,
Even if you have been acquainted with it for a thousand eons,
It remains beyond any comprehension or use.
It’s what makes both use and misuse possible,
Both living and dead are standing on it,
It’s playing from the sides of victors and vanquished,
Whose side would it take and why?
4. It has no advantages to offer,
It’s not an advantage,
The subjects it touches,
Mostly go mad with bliss,
Bliss: whether small or big is
As good as the experience,
Can’t be compared.
5. The experience can’t be tagged,
Can’t be made into a trophy,
It chooses its subjects only for the negation of the mundane,
Even the most sublime of verses,
Don’t scratch the surface of the dancer!
6. The dancer,
The dance,
And the witness,
Become one.
Else: it’s not the dance.
7. To tell you that you will,
Become a fire,
A mystic one,
Which consumes,
Ambitions,
Personality,
Goals,
Even that of getting liberated,
You would never trade for this.
And yet: there’s nowhere else to go.
All those who walked before,
Walked through this.
This is the direct knowledge,
They’ve been talking about,
All of them.
8. The individual,
Gains and loses,
Its path and milestones,
And there’s not just one of them,
Paths, milestones and individuals,
In an individual,
Are countless!
The timeless reality takes no account of time bound struggles,
What are countless paths but desires,
And countless milestones?
And countless individuals?
Love for Self dancing as energy.
1. I eat fruits. Fallen on ground.
2. It takes me a lot of time to make-up my mind to write. I would have preferred sitting quietly, watching the setting Sun, the dance, birds frolicking, chirping and returning to nests in various groups.
3. Even in the recreated identity and objective : my efforts tend to fall off on their own. Sometimes it’s pain, at others it’s pain by proxy.
4. There’s a transmuted liquid. It tastes good. It’s elixir according to some texts. It has only given me fanciful dreams. It’s the liquid which plays these games. It gets vital or weak. The liquid has desires. It’s the desire to live and experience.
5. You’re advised to shun pleasure and prolong life. The wisest have advised to fight death. Death is ego. Ego is thought. Thought structures come to regular end. First it were events which seemed fatalistic then it becomes repeated occurrence.
6. The objectives I created as excuse for living are found to be falsehood. The reality asserts itself vehemently.
7. It often seems like: waking up from dream clouds. Again and again. Identities only work until there are users. They’re usually players. The people in the surrounding who have a weak understanding of reality.
8. Even the passing verses of greatest adepts don’t provide solace. This yearning is an all consuming fire. All relations, identities and roles get burnt in it. I tried to fit but there was never any reality to any of it.
9. I get the true meaning of adjective loftily.
10. The silence feels heavenly. I read a bit from Fountain of Ethics in Hindi. Yesterday I read a prologue by Hazari Prasad Dwivedi. On autobiography of Bana Bhatta who wrote Kadambari. He was contemporary to Harsha. Ideas of Catherine : the lady who inspired him to work on completing the book were eye opener. She thought her life was wasted as she was woman. She chide him for being lazy despite being a man. She told him about even European women being shy and unable to work as much as men because of the limitations imposed by the nature.
11. Crescent moon is just above my head. Peeping through three wires. Everything I say or do, unto you, seems to be cheap substitute of some higher existence, as if it was available, right here and now, except it isn’t.
12. Most people keep postponing life. Giving up on even the small pleasures with hope of some heavenly gains. Then it’s too late. I am not one of those.
13. I often think if poetry is more than exercise of imagination. In that sense it’s not taken apart from reality. Imagination is more powerful than reality to give you unreal expectations. Unreal anxieties and sometimes working as foundation for ideas which become reality: our day to day life.
14. Batlings are dancing in zig Zag patterns. Mosquitoes dance. Another twilight. Peace.
1. Birds are returning to their nests. Some mosquito dance nearby. Sounds of prayers from nearby mosque. I had some fruits to eat-ones which were lying below the tree in a remote corner. It had rained last evening.
2. Some dogs accompanied me on this walk. I am not indispensable in any of the processes in my day-to-day life. Not a must for anyone in the circle of acquaintances. Sometimes I feel it’s a bad reflection on my skills and ability. At others I feel it is the result of all of my choices: an expression of my true nature. I neither bind nor like to be bound.
3. If it doesn’t free you : none of the skills is of any use. Even best of crafts make you a slave to the process after a while. Despite being free I am able to get my sustenance at present which makes me feel fortunate. I don’t worry about it as much as I used to worry couple of years ago.
4. The day went smooth like a breeze. It’s the contrast. I had to take painkillers for toothache yesterday. The same toothache for which I had to undergo root canal couple of years ago.
5. Batlings are jogging in the air now. Zig Zag patterns. Plum glum lumpsum summum bonum numbat battue Tuesday. Gone are the days of standard standards. I am at peace and wonder why I forget the essentials so soon.
The twilight darkens now.
1. A tree has shed so many of its leaves within the last few minutes. It’s quite poetic.
2. A crow sings.
3. There are cotton clouds.
4. A ship turned during its whaling expedition. A bus fell in a canal. I was thinking of root canal. I had to take antibiotics and pain killers.
5. Filled water and watered some beds.
6. Some birds are singing as hazy Sunshine peaks through.
Antibiotic tic tac toe
Oeuvre remnant antenna
Namesake sake
Keynote keyhole
Ketone tone footnotes erased
Sedona Arizona ona Hakuna
Matata batata pralaya
This light is known as one mind
It’s the bridge between unconscious and conscious
Through it
Walk dead and become alive
It’s plenum
It connects all realms
It’s the ground of being
And origin of all things!
It’s also the end.
The setting Sun is shining brightly. Twenty five birds perched on two pairs of wires. White birds are picking their food from field.
It’s a strange peace. I was listening to someone speak. There’s no complaining at this moment.
In the infinite journey these patterns repeat ad infinitum. Some consider knowledge to be objective of living as it leads to better living and others consider it to be joy.
My objectives were all erased and I became an open vessel for all surrounding voices and life. I became one with all life. Then I recreated objectives to live.
1. A newborn piebald puppy is playing with its black mother. I am at Bundelkhand Gaushala Nowgong, Chhatarpur since last two and half hours. I witnessed making of Shivansh compost which has been a routine for me in last month or so. I even participated in turning in some of them.
2. I took rest on a chair. Some kids were busy feeding cows on their birthday. We uprooted some mustard plants which were weeds in the kitchen garden here being cultivated by my companion.
3. Ten people work here to maintain about 470 cows. I found no willing participants to show me around so I didn’t. Though I have learnt to keep my curiosity in check, I learnt it the hard way.
4. A solar light panel was observed. Power is cut for 5 hours everyday here. Compare it with Gandhi Smarak Nidhi Chhatarpur premise where you have it 24*7. I even witness wastage of some electric power over there. They use outdated equipments. Either arguing about giving employment to more people who could work manually or implying lack of a budget. When I started today Gau or cow or Taurus was the yoni of the Kaalpurusha.
5. I played many vocabulary jams, yesterday and today on vocabulary.com. My ID is 10. I invite you to play with me. Here’s the summary of my recent ranks and scores:
(850, 610, 760, 850, 830, 370, 840, 790,540, 625, 700, 575, 515, 530, 550, 525, 740, 750)
Ranks: 2, 1,1,2,1,4,1,2,3,2,2,2,2,1,1,2,1,1
6. Not many USA players participate on weekends. As if they’re on a job and take leave on weekends.
7. A Tohu Verse:
Turnstilemmingdynastylustrousuccubusteadversionanymadversionoisomesugastrickylensensenescentcenotaphotonoteonionsnidingdongombroonoorunicatigandandruffuryearlyricalculusufructhulululatelierratabanidithasashytonnageriatrickeryosemitemeritzygottenetsukeratosisalubriousimpsonosegayemenneagrammatonotaryarmulkenophobeluskyricketinglingjinglingminglingastronomicalculationsnowononandon
8. I am inventor of Tohu verse format. Tohu word comes from kabbalistic mystic tradition and it means chaos. Whatever is perceived as chaos is because of lack of awareness. Chaos at one level is intelligence at another and consolidated knowledge at yet another.
Image courtesy: Bundelkhand Gaushala Nowgong Chhatarpur Madhya Pradesh 471001
Image credit: self
