say you are mine...

…you raise it and slow it as if it is yours, as if you hold the accelerator in your hand.  It is not a plaything painted in red for you to play with it like a kid. It inhales the red water and exhales it not with the glimpse of your eyes that is how not it has been designed but fortunately that is what happens. Stop not your glimpses; let me live.

Image from google.com

You hurt me always like a child hurts her mother’s bosom; let it be with any angry or anything, it neither gives anguishing pain nor torment in any of the mother’s veins but a sense of feel of attachment, a selfish motherly love.

In your vanity I enjoy the joy of being hated by a little angel.  There is no tradition in the past or present to love not the one who hates.  I still adore your vanity admire your pride.  You are my pride, what not even if you do not want to be my bride you are still my pride.  Falling in love with an angel is not just a just fact it take hundreds of years to realize the love, incarnation after incarnation, which is above what the humans are blessed with.   How long I can wait! Though it might take hundreds of long years for an angel to realize my love, how long can I wait!  

Till the masterful sun burns itself to nothing – I can wait, till the day the shameless moon stops begging light from the earth – I can wait.

Sometimes, in night mother sleeps leaving her child in the cradle and a sudden cry makes her wake up to cradle her baby to and fro and that is how you wake me up in the mid nights with your gestures in dreams and oscillates my mind to and fro.  You crawl in my mind in my neural ravine, and instead of reaching my brain you reach my heart.

You taught me how to persevere in any pain, though, with diminishing confidence but what is the relationship between love and confidence.  Mine is not a war to acquire any land or wealth it’s a tradition of perseverance for winning a beautiful heart of goddesses of wealth.  Though it’s a diminishing confidence, no mother stops feeding her child just for a reason her child bit her bosom the last time; only a motherly love knows the treasure in the pain.

…exiled, I feel, when you turn your back to me and unbelievably I feel venerable when I thought I still love you.  The days without you were the days in the space – I neither I grow old nor young – where time do not exist.

Will a day come, you will sit next to me looking at something else and I will be looking at you alone and nothing else.  I will try my best to make you understand what I have gone through being in love, being alone thinking just of you. 

What if you didn’t understand? What if you do not want to hear me? What if you do not want me to talk about the past?

But …if you pull me towards you, grabbing my checks with your rosy hands and say ‘I am yours’

...say you are mine

...say you are mine.

Aham Brahmasmi!

Born out of love, humanity, I have everything this universe has in it.  I am everything, the god and the evil, the creator and the annihilator, the man and the women, love and hate, a sadhu and a rapist, an imperialist and communist, an antagonist and a comrade, dagger and the blood, disease and medicine, ailing and the  healing, a beast and the pray, mud and the water, creation and destruction and I am the reason for everything and every things reason is me, I am all in one and the one in all; Aham Brahmasmi.

I can chop the devils among me in to pieces and pieces and pieces with my sword and take out the nerves out from the hand of the one who touches a kid to rape and hang him with same nerves.  I can pierce the fine needles into the eyes of the racist to reach his brain to take out the very cell that made him a racist.  I can take the bones out of the legs which can walk and still steels the happiness of a kid to make him beg. I can tear the one into two, legs apart, the one who crushed a woman in lust. I can take all the sins and can sleep tranquilly in the cross. I am the sin and I am the healing; Aham Brahmasmi.

I suffer for love and I am the one who make few suffer for love.  I am the poverty and richness, the money and the food, the giving and the taking, the heart and the beat, the breath and the lungs, the cells and the tissues, depression and the obsession, the motivation and discouragement.   I am the fear, the tear, the longing, the sex, the lust, the gene, womb, fetus, new born, well grown, young, the very old.  I am the birth and I am the death.

I can make the young an old, who made his own old homeless, and make his young to make him homeless.  I can squeeze the intestine of a woman who hates feeding the old of his home and I can protect her when she becomes old.  I can be a walking stick of the elder ones and act as a plastic leg of the one who lost his own.  I can be a trap of man eaters and the law to punish it. 

I am the water, the fire, the pyre, the air, the contamination, the pollution, the science, an atheist, a scientist, a theists, the music, the sound, the noise, the voice, the peace, the calamity, the religion, the cast, the creed, the fight, the war, the source, the fuel, the scarcity, the surplus, the intelligence, the foolishness, the countries, the continents, the earth, the world, the space, the light and I am the universe spread out in the space and the space spread out in universe; Aham Brahmasmi

I wage war for land and quake it to eat the man, I am the weapon and I am the destruction of the one who hold it, I grow the humanity and make them drown into the sea.  I am the reason for religion and the blood I spill for my religion.  I am the caste and creed and the separation among myself, I am everything.  I can peel the skin of the one who kills in the name of religion and fights in the name of caste.  Ignorance, I cannot bless, I can kill the ignorant and I am the ignorance.

I am everything you see, the humanity, I hold everything in one place and the one I hold in one place is everywhere.  And what a human is what one provokes. Aham Brahmasmi.


img crtsy : google

...the power

When the first drop of the drizzle got evaporated by the thickest flame, I thought water is not so powerful, fire is the most powerful.  And another drop, another drop and another drop slowly fire turned to fumes and in sometime there are fumes, only fumes.  Where went the fire, the powerful flame that evaporated the first drop of drizzle?  And what is this fume from where this came?  Could not be the mixture of water and fire be fume but what is fume? It is neither vapor of the water nor the power of the fire but toxic feeling of the combination I guess.  Is fume more powerful than water and the fire since it irritates the eyes to make it burn and again it makes it to shed water, I feel fume is powerful, now the fire and tear or in same place.   Along with whatever the fume brings it also tries makes one to suffocate, stops the breathing, spread the toxic feel across the physical and vital parts, sometimes the over consumption challenges the immaculate string that God holds in his hands which is connected to human hearts at the other end.  When all these things are at one side, and when the droplets stops kissing the fire flames and a tiny, very tiny spark which was hiding itself in a corner of a corner rejuvenates the ignition and the fire kills the fume and brings the life back to the heart. 

Though everybody knows this is what happens to anybody in love, who believes!



img crtsy : google

No that can not be love...

…a small girl was pulling her mother down near to her grabbing her dress some time, holding her neck some time, pulling her shawl some time.  The mother got irritated and shouted at her to hold her mischief till they leave home from that textiles shop.  The girl didn’t listen, continued to drag her down as if she want to tell her mother something and the mother was busy talking to somebody nearby, looking at textiles which others were holding in their hands and shoulders looking at the mirror.  The girl received a slap on her sweet cheeks, small cheeks.  Her eyes turned red, tears slowly walked down her cheeks.  After the slap and looking at her tears the mother bent down to ask her what does she wants.  The little girl with her tears and slightly bruised cheeks grabbed her mother by neck and stamped her lips on her mothers’ cheek.  The mother looked her for a second and all the virtual reality of materials around her vanished and she relinquished herself to the little girl’s kiss, the immortal love, and the immaculate bond. The mother grabbed her child with her arms alike a selfish money hunger man grabbing currency notes with his arms…

…he looked at all this and thought this is how love works.  There is always a mother who hesitate the call of love and the child who never quits until a blow is given and the love is understood.  Few drops of tears should be shed but it is sacred, that makes the childish love an immaculate affection.  Whatever, when the given love is like the love of a kid towards a mother then the one who hesitates will one day grab the love to understand the kid’s heart.  The blow might hurt but the kid never stops showing her love towards a mother if that is the case in the love, then, it is immaculate.

His thoughts kept munching the idea of love, the doubt on its trueness, the skeptical thought of its mere existence till he reached home.  

I was childish in love, he thought. Nothing so far he has got other than the pain that love gave as the result of falling in love, nothing so far he has got.  He does not know to act smart, to cheat, to change, and to seduce his love not only because he didn’t believe in it but also he didn’t know. Though expectation of she returning the love he gave her looked foolish since she do not know him, but, the God hasn’t created the hormones to dance that way, his typical design of heart and love is perfect though miserable to understand.

He looked at his mobile phone, slowly pressed down button to browse through the contacts and reached his final destination – her name. And he remembered that he has to run the flash back in his mind to munch the idea of love he had had in his mind.  The flash back ran.  A prose he remembered ‘words might kill’ in fact it kills. 

‘Why should I suffer when I have thousand and one way out to change my mind and look out for something else, even, somebody else.  Why should I suffer‘, He thought.  Hard pressing a red button made the mobile screen blank.  He opened the message inbox to browse and found it which he hasn’t deleted since it landed in his mobile.

‘Let me delete it now, let me change my mind, love has no value, no one will respond to love, why should I get depressed for the one who haven’t even cared to look into my eyes once to see that I am her soul mate which she could find in my eyes alike I found in hers’.  Oh! Everything is humbug.  A full stop to all these non sense feeling will make me happy, I want to be happy, she cannot understand my love, let me change my mind, I do not deserve her, let life show me somebody else who I deserve’ He said to himself and threw the mobile phone in the dark midnight, in the hall where he was lying. 

He laid his head on the pillow to rest, to sleep.  ‘I now have thrown everything out of my mind, I am free, I am not goanna count back the happenings, let her be in her own way and me in mine.  Thanks for the lesson you taught my love’ he thought and… and he slept. 

The phone rang, he picked and it was her voice, the voice which he wanted to hear for his life.  She said ‘hello’ and he opened his eyes to see nothing has changed, it is just a dream.  His heart pondered, he searched something in that dark all around the floor, his mobile phone which he threw.  It should not have broken, he believed.  After few minutes, he found separated battery and mobile phone and its panel cover.  He reassembled it with a prayer that it should work.  A bright beam of light woke up from the mobile to tell him that it is still alive. 

He opened the message inbox and found the two text message she has sent knowing without that it is to him to whom she replied; ‘who is this’ in two different modulation.  He pressed it on his eyes, lied down in bed again.  ‘Love exist, I expect not her to love me back still she will stay with me in my heart’  he thought closing his eyes placing the mobile phone over his chest and… and he slept. 

img crtsy : google images