Trance

 

I’m in trance now after drinking from the cup of tiredness and gulping the wine of drowsiness.  The poetry doesn’t come, the story doesn’t get better, my heroine is not smiling, my protagonist is not crying – nor doing anything but the words come.  The words come one after the other like a drop following the drops from the clouds when it rains.  No, it is not drizzling but it is a down pour, cats and dogs. Oh, what should I do with those mosquitoes that sucks my blood and the lashes that wants to cover my eyes but the fingers that wants to keep typing words after words.  I have nil patience to read what I have written neither anybody but I write for I will die if I keep those content in my mind and my brain will burst and head will blow into two thousand pieces; the two hemisphere thousand each.  My stomach is bloated with the food I ate for dinner which just added more wine to the body in trance.  How could one explain the state of semi-state of sleepiness.  How many know that this is the state of ecstasy, you control your sleep and sit alone when the entire body wants to fall down anywhere and in any corner of the house and sleep, just sleep and do nothing. It is the state of ecstasy the god like state where you realize nothing is so romantic than sleeping undisturbed. O! Everything and anything you write in ecstasy make more sense for it is the true you that writes from within, it knows no lies, no dogmas, no moral, no ethics but the state of just being. The metal that rotates over my head, the blades that spines the air to keep me away from sweeting is one other tranquilizer that sings lullaby with the acoustic of the electromagnetic force.  I have no idea of writing more than five hundred words so I look at the bottom of my computer screen which gets increased slowly when I was normal but now, I see it is running wild.  I know I have to stop at some point of time and go to sleep for I cannot stay drunk with this drowsiness for a longer time.  It feels blessed when this word software underlines the words and sentences that needs correction with a comma or space to give or a space to delete, but now it is annoying.  There were lines and lines and lines in blue and red to correct, who cares.  It is not me who is writing; those are not my hands that is writing, it is that Indian or Greek or Egyptian God for writing who is putting words in to my mind and driving me crazy to type and type and type.  I am typing with my eyes closed for I care my least what I type as the divine that is responsible for writing is sitting on my lap and writing.  Okay Sir Mr. Lord of the Words I want to sleep please get up and get lost until next time for it has already crossed five hundred!!!

                                                                                                                                    [SK]

What - Words - mean to me!

 

What does “Words”, all those I write, planned to write, wanted to write, imagined to write or missed to write, mean to me!  I was wondering on my way to a Gnana Sakthi’s shrine. All the words that bloom in my brain were like the panorama that I see through the vehicles window, it changes, come back, alters with the angel sometimes blurs and darkness.  That is all it is! Nothing more! I was pondering until I reached the womb of the shrine where the Gnana Sakthi stood effulgently in the twinkling oil lamp.  There were two kids not more than 5 and 10 whom I didn’t see until they started singing, I realized more than humans the Sakthi, the unbridled, uncomprehend energy, was listening to their song, the voice, the music and the words.  Music is a confabulation between the human heart and the energy that was wide spread in cosmos like the Om sound of the universe but words make it more meaningful; is it not!

 

What does “Words” mean to me?

Words are my confabulation divine, negotiation with the evil, my perplexion about world, stick in the hands of Jesus, flute in the hands of Krishna, a sojourn in a tiresome journey.  I was still standing before that Sakthi.  The song and the lamp arati brought tears in my eyes for reason unknown, unexplained, and inexplicable.  I understood that that is what “Words” mean to me, an inexplicable reason that brings tears in eyes, melting of the soul, that drop of tear, the devotion, the fear of superior energy, the love on ubiquitous omnipresence.

I walked out of the womb of the temple to sit and continue to contemplate.  I saw a couple circumambulating the temple, she took the vermilion powder and applied in his temple (Temple! You see!) a nonverbal communication that you are my love and he bent down to understand it, a surrender.  That is what “Words” mean to me, a surrender, an understanding between hearts, an untamed love, unconditional compassion, the love!

My stomach growled in hunger so I walked into the place were Anadhanam was offered.  When I was waiting, I saw an old man shouting for stopping him in line as the room was filled with the first batch and he looked at me and consoled me saying that the food will be there for us, don’t you worry, they wont talk home the left out (sarcasm).  That is what “Words” mean to me – anger, anxiety, sarcasm, unventured horizon of the future, and that hunger, and finally that consolation.

I remembered Mahakavi Bharathy’s poetry to destroy this entire universe if a single person is not offered with food.  That is “Words” for me; the compassion towards empty stomachs, communism, rebellious thoughts, the sword in hand, the war, the fight, the wounds, the desperation, a cry, a longing!

I ate – stomach was full and got back into the vehicle and a trance swept me like a breeze to take a nap.  That too is “Words” for me… forget everything and take a nap, fall into dream of something sweet, the cushion comfortable seat of the vehicle, the acceleration that give thrill and the wobbling that sings lullaby are all words for me.

                                                                                                                                SK

Techno-Romance

 

…I start with dots because I do not know where to start and you see only one dot is a stop, add two more to it and it becomes continuation. It is the continuation from somewhere I left or continuation from what my mind is chewing at the moment.  With every day I grow old I feel like I’m an alien in this faster world.  My childhood and adolescent were termed as fast world when the technology started sneaking in every middle-class houses.  The satellite television channels which peeped in for limited hours and later become all time and the thirty minutes news in those channels then become a separate news channel and then now a nightmare with 24x7 flash news, landline phones which got converted to wireless landline phones and later to mobile gigantic phones and then into smaller handsets and now again become gigantic mini television in hands, and the music that were more softer which was a continuation or with the trace of the earlier generation with respect to the language, words and meanings which now become only noise with all dramatic technological tools (musical instruments), of course the movies which were full of songs in the golden days then become partially songs with less violence and more story which become only acoustics of whatever it is.

The televisions, the white lights, the mobile phones all emit the same level of Hz, the frequency, that damages the human body which sometimes makes me think that everything is designed, in the name of technology or luxury, to cause damage to the human existence!!!

Given the life to the tools and technologies what I miss the most is the different types of romance that blooms at different stages of life.  Times when letters were exchanged which then become emails. The telephone booths then become mobile phones then into texting and now into WhatsApp.  So easy to talk and chat nowadays but imagine the days of letters and strict parenting the meeting will be coincident and chatting will be only between the eyes which then become little easier with the landline phones in my adolescence though the strict parenting and location to meet with those eagle eyes that was ready to spoil the names, especially the girls made life tougher.  Said all those stuffs the time taken to talk one word to each other took years and with the urge to be together for years built a bond that continued life-long if it was a successful love story, even if it is not the story stays in the heart.  The train love stories, bus love stories, street love stories, and letter love stories were longer and sweeter stories than the WhatsApp and Facebook stories.  Isn’t it!!!

What is missing these days is that urge that brings hearts together as everything is faster and communication is fastest.  And of course, the western culture that made Indians believe that meeting and chanting and dating at ease is part of our culture too when westerners are taking their direction to East for peace and salvation from what their culture had given them!  When you walk the hard path towards your destination, the journey becomes as precious as the destination.  That experience is spoiled when everything is made easier.

                                                                                                        [SK]

if you’re reading

 

…if you’re reading, my love

I want you to let you know that you’re reading my mind.

…if you’re still reading; 

You’re my words that I write and

The meaning between the lines that I hide.

You’re the warmth in the crowd in my winter below the sky,

Don’t stop here for  neither I  nor my words could fly.

Sometimes you’re that favorite song on the pathway that I long forgot,

And many a time, you were that last drop left in the water bottle

That wets my throat when the environment scorches.

Read on… 

When it rains heavily and the road was not clear,

Your memories were the wipers of my car’s windshield!

Many broken promises that I made let to not one good day, so

I forgive all who break the promises in attempt to break me.

Few more lines please…

I could write the memoires of your fragrance, your image,

the caress, touch, hand-in-hand walk in the rain under the umbrella, but

that drop of tear at the edge of my eyes in the night can do it better !!!

                                                                                                                       [SK]

The Search…

 

If you’re searching for Him, the omnipresent, the omnipotent,

The first question is to ask why you’re searching and

What are you going do when you find Him? That answer is the beginning

of the journey that takes longer than ever imagined or

Shorter that ever achieved; intensity decides the speed!

The external search – the idols, the temples, the venerated,

The Gurus and the Cults, different processes are important, so

you turn inside to you and begin the search again, listen

To the voice of the inner ‘You’ and identify the medium

is not external but you and the way is not on the earth but

inside you, the destination is not in the sky but within self!

At the end, which is a new beginning, you will understand

The omnipresent creates the omnipotent in one cycle and

The omnipotent creates the omnipresent in another.  The two are

the same and also different.  The duality is His nature and

Nature is His twin.  But to know the truth that the tressure is

In your own home, below your feet, you need to stroll

All paths, all roads that never was taken, all lanes

that were never been explored.  When your foot aches,

When you could take not one more step, then He appears.

He appears not in any physical form, not in any physical or

Astral plane but within you.  The light comes to enlighten you!

You’re what you are searching for!  Thathwamasi!!!