Mystic journey!

My significant other is

The mystic dancer,

It has no other!

It’s the only one.

It’s the blissful experience,

Agent; experiencing and its result,

It’s an eternal mystery.

Unresolved,

Ineffable,

Fathomless,

There’s nothing which transcends it.

Though it’s true;

I long for this human journey to end,

With greater and greater intensity,

Every passing day–

The mystical search ends

When the unique dancer

Reveals itself in your heart.

It’s then:

You taste delicious ambrosia.

Moth and Flame!

Am I a moth in the flame?

Or flame in a moth?

Or both?

The same,

A form and a name,

A game,

As the moth,

I am burning with bliss,

Can’t wait this eon of mothship to sink,

In the blink of cosmic eye,

Can’t be truly a moth,

Or even a semi awakened flame,

As the flame,

It’s merely a speck,

Now it was,

Now it’s not,

And yet :

To the dream which is neither moth,

Nor the flame,

A mysterious dame,

The song seems blissful.

It’s a great mystery.

Rest!

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.

The Dance!

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.

Dancing Mosquitoes!

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.

Another Tohu!

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

Cycles

From being involved as a participant to being a witness it’s a cycle.

Again and again

The participants have no insights

Emotions choke them

The witness has memories devoid of emotions

From nostalgia to recording

Again and again

Cycles

End of the day!

1. Plenty of vocabulary jams. My ID is 01. I invite you to play with me on vocabulary.com.

2. Kavitha J and Paul H scored well today on most of the jams.

3. I attended a birthday party, registered some books in library, emptied dustbin ash, helped in cowshed, wrote couple of blog posts, clicked some pictures, filled water and sat down for a while.

Thisaway, or: Thataway

‘No way. Way!’, a d’Verse Quadrille Runaway, wayless, makes his way up dark areaway – to stowaway on a rockaway. Highwayman in jet cutaway strolling past purplish twayblades, reading stolen waybill, notes blond wayward flyaways. Hereaway’s no place for young tearaways, he smiles. Well, leastways we’re both of waygoing lifeways. The above poem is my take […]

Thisaway, or: Thataway

1. Thanks David and d’ verse!

2. My quadrille with 44 words:

Wayward warden dense mesne

Nescafe affects highway my way

Thyway ryeway ardent dentistriatedeterrantucleonasm

Asmeraldalda palindromes in Rome

Omegaye this way that way

Darkness eats essential oils

Boils roil coils recoil

Way lost

In permafrost

Prema roast

Host forgotten

Tenet costs

Tao boasts

Toasts nowayout!

Script

1. Heard many horn sounds as I was moving out of house.

2. A man on bicycle had a white ream of paper…just behind him a fast moving vehicle with BJP district president plate on it. It’s an old pattern. Another Press vehicle.

3. Snooker game bill board with Russian models.

4. IPTA number three handed me over script to put it in library. The director was on the back seat.

5. Last night I handed it over to director just before closing the library. His bag and water bottle as well.

6. The first page of script has names from voterlist on its backside.

7. How’s it for the first scene of a play?

Keeping the thread as small as possible. Why can’t I ever exclude political parties from these?

Twilight Again!

Birds are returning to their nests. Parrots mostly. Eleventh Moon is shining in Taurus just above my head. Sounds of prayers from nearby temples and mosques.

The granary has expanded a bit. Not as much as needed yet. I picked up the scrapped grass and threw it away. A trolley full of pigeon pea is resting before me to be unloaded here.

The conversation with Nadine was uplifting yesterday. Semantics, delusion and further delusions: then their shattering one by one has been the story of my Odyssey here on WordPress. While the poet of highest order disappeared and wouldn’t resurface no matter what: another fish in the cave seems to want to swim to that side of shore. And yet another won’t change her profile picture even after four years. Or has it been lesser. They create black holes. Then bit of scaling. Then return to black holes.

If this Faatima was that Faatima: she won’t believe that one morning in 2016 i hardly had anything else but her words to hang onto. Some scarecrow images. And her words as unicorn images of a safe haven which leads me where?

Here! This is the culmination of all my searches. All my seeking and journey. Nectar of immortality. Don’t tell them they would banish us. Then there is three of us…four of us… countless trillions of us…how lovely to be nobody…

How fluid to watch the dance and play the game.

Twilight