The Rain and the Tree

By the side of an ordinary pathway,
Stands a great Banyan tree.
An ordinary one.
Silent, peaceful,
Has he been standing there,
For last 500 years!
Being a spectator,
Of the changing world,
With scars in heart,
And smile on face!

Among all the commotion,
Of the market place
By the pathway,
Among all hues and cries,
Shrills and shouts,
Stands he with peace of mind,
For he is deep into
The Penance Long!

The Rain
Ever enchanted with
The Banyan tree -
For years, across many births!
Every season in her full youth,
During the time of monsoons,
Would come with all ardor,
With passion filled bosom,
To take the Banyan tree with her,
To that uncharted land,
The land of fairies and angels!
She wanted to hold
The hand of the Banyan Tree
And be cocooned in his embrace,
For this life, and all the rest!
Protected from world around,
Supported and cuddled,
With his strong presence.

But fell short the rain,
Could not move she the Tree,
All efforts in vain!

Same did she do,
Every year,
With every new birth,
With love renewed all over.
But could not move she the
Great Banyan Tree!

500 long years did pass!
And the rain could not give up,
Her innocent lust,
Her arduous love,
All for him - The meaning of her existence!
For she loved him,
More than her life!

It was the 501st year,
The rain did come again -
Same were her ways,
As 500 times in the past!

But this time was different.
She was curious, she was perturbed
What is this Tree made of?
She asked herself!

There were so many
She had swayed
In her seductive power!
Many in one birth!
But what was this
So very special
In this Great Banyan Tree!
That in so many births,
Could not she move?
Even an inch!

Decided to confront the Tree,
She came to him in all her mellowness.
Drenched him with warmth and care,
With all her love,
She held him tight in her arms,
She did ask straight to his heart -
What is that for which you are alive!

The Great Banyan tree,
Turned his eyes,
Looked deep into hers,
Opened his mouth and spoke
For the first time!
I love you and your ways!
Always had I wanted,
Be with you forever,
Together we stay in the
Land of fairies and angels,
Happily ever after!

But my life is not for me.
I am not a creeper, a vine.
For opportunity bigger have I -
Being the Great Banyan tree!

The essence of my existence,
The relevance of my life,
Is more than what I love for myself!
It is more than my love for you!

My life is an unending toil,
Creating the vital ingredients of life,
The enlivening air to breath,
Taking away the poison from the world!
I am destined to Transmute,
All the pain into peace,
All the tears, into laughter!
I create beauty,
I create life!

I am not even a single identity -
Continued the Great Banyan Tree,
For I am many in one,
My branches are all distinct,
With individual leaves -
All purposefully engaged,
Working with Sun, creating life
With air and water,
Nourishing the world around!
I am a macrocosm,
A unity of so many
Individual Meanings,
Individual Purpose,
Individual Perspective!
Giving a holistic Purpose -
The purpose of Being
The Great Banyan Tree!

My love, my rain -
Do you want me to break away?
And curse this Grace?
I know I am in pain.
For I too like being with you,
As did that creeping vine!
But I don’t want to perish,
Being an insignificant filth,
Given into my urge!
For I am the Great Banyan Tree!

Hurt and Angry, did Rain retorted –
Your pride will fall – you insignificant tree!
You too will end up being the dry wood
To be burnt for fuel.
Where will all your meaning,
All your pride go then?

Tranquil and still,
With a smile did the Tree reply –
It is not the pride of my identity Rain.
It is the pride of what I create.
My creations are immortal.
I might turn into a fragile log,
But what I have created these many years,
Will be immortal!
The cool solace of my shade,
The fresh rejuvenating air I spread,
The firmness I provide to the soil,
Those lovely mythic songs of women,
Singing rituals going around me!
Those decorations of vermilion,
Flags and chants all around me!
That veneration of sanctity I carry around!
All these are immortal!

I will perish my love.
So shall you!
But what will always remain,
Immortal for ever – What you and I create!

The Rain calmed, and brimmed in tears.
Realized for the first time she –
Life is more than sheer me and mine!
Its much more than our urges and emotions!
Life is about a meaning - a purpose - a context!

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Being Alive..

Being alive for me,
Is not about
What I can get from the world,
From Its people, Its institutions,
And from its ways.

Rather it is about,
Being relevant
To the panorama of life,
In all the games,
All fanfare,
All drama!

It is not about
Was I loved,
Or recognized.
It is neither about
What I hoarded,
What I gained,
Or what I posses.

Being alive for me,
Is about using what
Life has to offer to me,
And engaging in an endeavor
To contribute meaningfully,
To people around me,
To the institutions I belong,
To the civilization I am part of.

Being alive for me,
Is about being used up,
Completely for a meaning -
For a mission -
Bigger than my life itself!
It is about contributing to
The ongoing evolution of mankind,
Either by being part of a team
Making a next generation product,
Or being a better father,
A better friend.
Or in working on an idea,
A concept, a thought,
Something that gives direction
To the march of human evolution -
Contributing to the overall
Increase of beauty around!

Being alive for me,
Is about having that grace,
The style and pride,
Of loving whole heartedly,
Without expecting an ounce in return!
It is about having the courage
To love, and truly love!
To express right from
The deepest recesses of my heart -
What I feel right about!

Being alive for me,
Is about making friends,
Being in love,
Understanding life,
In all its shade!
And knowing myself and the world!

Being alive for me,
Is always keeping the context alive -
The context of pure unconditionality.
The context of,
Being relevant to the world
For its own good,
Not to the narrow urges,
Of my smaller self!

Being alive for me,
Is creating lovely memories
Each moment,
With my words, my action, my thoughts!
Being part of lives of
Friends, family, and others -
Loving, and expressing,
Writing, and working,
Playing, and laughing,
Caring and Nurturing!
It is like being a sculptor
Busy in flow
creating the most beautiful work of art -
His Life - his muse!

Being alive for me,
Is being part the life of Others,
Sharing their lives,
Their moments,
Moments of happiness and sorrow,
As all are parts of me,
And I part of them!

Being alive for me,
Is making the best in others
Bloom out to flamboyance!
Enabling wellbeing everywhere.

Being alive for me,
Is being an obstinate optimist,
An incurable romantic,
Being intoxicated in love,
Working in the Temple of Human Potential,
Living in the paradise of Angels,
Being citizen of the country
Of Gods, Cultures, Food and Festivals!

Being alive for me,
Is an attempt to see God
In a beautifully written poem,
In those Most Beautiful Eyes,
In those states of being in FLOW,
Engaging in my strengths,
Creating a work of art,
Playing with my daughter,
Hours long – tireless and sleepless!

Being alive for me,
Is returning home after
A long tiring day of work,
To the peace of home,
My daughter and my better half –
Who have always loved me
With my shortcomings and flaws!
Exactly the way I am!

Being alive is,
Getting drenched in the rain,
Barebody and with friends,
Running with the football,
On the cozy and soft marshy ground!

Being alive is,
Reading, contemplating,
On thoughts and ideas of great souls –
Philosophers, scientists and poets,
Creating new ridges of thought,
In the contours of the grey cells.

Being alive is,
Challenging myself,
With a difficult task,
With a gallant goal,
With a grand dream!

Being alive is
Breathing in the hope,
Of the impossible!
Waiting patiently,
For that beautiful coincidence!
To take the breath of life out!

Being alive is,
Living life to the fullest!
Loving with ardor intense!
Falling down, getting hurt,
Bleeding and Sweating!
But still continuing the journey –
In the march to be relevant!


Being alive is
Making love with the solitude,
Deep and intimate and intense!
Getting into
The gaps between the thoughts,
Tasting the absolute stillness –
A realm of thoughtless bliss!

Being alive is,
Living with the pride,
Of being able to love the most,
Give the most,
Care the most,
Contribute the most,
With the grace
Of simplicity, silence,
And pure unconditionality!

Most of all,
It is being aware -
Each moment is ticking by,
For never to return!
Gradually heading are we,
To the end of this dream!
Why then to live a life small,
A life constrained and in fear!

For time is less,
Joys are many!
It is about being indulged in Life,
With heart, body, mind and soul!
Truly being alive!
Every moment every day!

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Missing was I..

The warriors fighting the GREAT BATTLE!
Faces covered with dust and spite.
Tired and bleeding are they!
But riding are they on their horses,
With unstoppable spirit!
With full speed and might,
Cutting out the darkness
With their swords,
Continuing are they
Their journey to win!!

I smell the dust and sweat.
I see great fire in the eyes of the warriors.
I see catastrophe all around.
Commotion, pain, unrest everywhere!
But then realized with astonishment anew
Something Missing was I!

Missing was I
The delight in their heart!
That Immense delight in the heart of those,
Who are engaged in the battle!
For them victory or defeat was not important;
Only what mattered was that
They are fighting the Good Fight!

Missing was I
That life for them was not a Sunday afternoon!
Peace, lethargy, and rest were not their lookout.
They were in askance of something grand –
Grander than their own moral existence!
That youthful dream was alive in their heart –
Throbbing with passion wild!

Missing was I
That they were not looking for
That fake certainty!
That homeostatis of nurturing the
Feeling of being matured,
Playing the lesser games,
To avoid the combat – disappointment and defeat!

Missing was I
They were not looking for that
Coward  immediate tranquility!
Being satisfied with the ordinary.
Rather they were on a pilgrimage –
On a journey towards Mission –
A mission which was bigger than their own lives!

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

On Frankl..

One of the most influential people I have read about is Dr. Viktor Frankl (March 26, 1905, Leopoldstadt – September 2, 1997, Vienna) was an Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist.
He was one of those very few souls who survived the Holocaust! After his grueling experience in the concentration camp of Hitler, he came out of it, victorious and started a new field of psychiatry known as  "Logotherapy" (A therapy in which the patient is helped in finding meaning out of his life). I always remind myself, if a human being can craft the heinous concentration camp to a real life workshop for his research on a world transforming new discipline of psychiatry, any human can make best of what life has to offer to her.

Few of my favorite musings of Victor in his book - "Man's Search for Meaning"

1. Fear may come true that which one is afraid of.
2. I recommend that the Statue of Liberty be supplemented by a Statue of Responsibility on the West Coast. (He was mentioning on the importance of "responsibility" and "ethics", over "freedom" and "liberty")
3. Everything can be taken from a man but one thing; the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.
4. Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom
5. Each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible.
6. Life can be pulled by goals just as surely as it can be pushed by drives.
7. Everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life; everyone must carry out a concrete assignment that demands fulfillment. Therein he cannot be replaced, nor can his life be repeated, thus, everyone’s task is unique as his specific opportunity to implement it.
8. When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves
9. What is to give light must endure burning.
10. Love is the only way to grasp another humanb being in the innermost core of his personality. No one can become fully aware of the very essence of another human being unless he loves him. By his love he is enabled to see the essential traits and deatures in the beloved person; and even more, he sees that which is potential in him, which is not yet actualized but yet ought to be actualized. Furthermore, by his love, the loving person enables the beloved person to actualize these potentialities. By making him aware of what he can be and what he should become, he makes these potentialities come true.
11. Don't aim at success - the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue..as the unintended side-effect of one's personal dedication to a course greater than oneself

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The temple of Human Potential!

I am an ordinary Engineer,
Working 12-15 hours everyday.
On Saturdays too I slog –
Either in the hardware lab,
Or with my laptop – coding, designing, testing!
Every morning to night,
With strict deadlines,
Am I expected to produce
“World class artifacts with the best quality”.
Relentlessly, with ever increasing complexity –
Both in challenges of scope and time!

They say I am creating a history!
Well, that might be true.
But what about my life?
I don’t have even 2 full days in a week
To relax and do what I like to!
Those were the lost days –
I had Saturdays and Sundays!
Dedicated to me, my family and friends!
Such a Paradise which I have lost!

I am an ordinary Engineer,
Sitting in the 10:00pm cab,
On my way back home,
Thinking about my Paradise Lost.
Was I astonishingly intrigued –
Why I still love to come here?
To the same office?
Day after day – years after years?
Why is it that I feel so proud about my work?
Why is it that I feel I am different,
I am unique!
Why is it that I feel
I am whole and complete,
In my beloved place of work!

I am tired, I am exhausted.
But why do I look forward to
Come to the same office –
My love – My Temple!

Then I realize –
They are the small, cute stories,
Those I am part of every day,
That pulls me to this place –
I call temple of Human Potential!
The valiant gestures of
Engineering ingenuity,
Young boys and girls,
And veterans as well,
Putting their minds into
Solving otherwise seemingly
In-conceivable problem –
Day in and day out!

The spirit of invincibility,
Of the newbie to make sense
Of that complicated task,
Trying to learn and make a difference!

That patience and care,
Of the expert,
Shaping the world of
The rookie – guiding him through
Unchartered avenues of Engineering Excellence!

With scores of hurdles every day,
I get amazed how people are being –
A true Engineer!
Fixing issues, creating amazing stuffs!
It is absolutely Inspiring!

The spirit of invincibility and creativity!
No matter what!
That beautiful interdependence –
Each doing their Best!
Creating a Whole –
A NON-ZERO game!
A BIG GAME!
A game that is making me grow,
As a better Man,
A better father,
A better friend,
A better professional!
Creating a better tomorrow!

I know – every moment –
I have a choice –
Either to be a victim,
Or be an invincible spirit –
Creating What Inspires me!
May be so they say –
I create therefore I am!

Salute I with heart filled with respect –
To the temple of Human Potential!

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The Admirer!

A new reader,
A new admirer,
A soul who understands the depth of
The strokes of art,
Someone who took time to
Read my musings,
Made an attempt to
Gauge the depth of my feelings-
Amazed by their profundity.
Comes and with a big smile,
Says - "What a FLOW!"
With a great concern,
Does he advice me -
Be a writer, go out -
Play the game of your soul!
What are you doing here with –
“Vector Cast”!!
Spellbound was he to know
The fate of Michel Simoni,
And how he was redeemed
On the altar of the Stream!
[refers to my poem - http://criativ-mind.blogspot.com/2011/04/sculptors-sin.html]

His amazement,
His understanding,
The resonance, the kinship!
Moved me - For this was the first time,
Someone could get even an inkling
Of the depth of my writings!
Or might be many had felt,
But none had expressed!
Or might be chose not to express!
So clearly he articulated,
His enchantment!
May be there is poet hidden in me too!

The most amazing thing about
An appealing work of art
Is the attempt of the piece,
To be able to hide the horrific predicament
Of the creator!
It is an attempt to transmute the
Bleeding pain of the writer,
To the most gallant and pleasant
Work of Beauty!
Such a noble is the occupation!
Being an Alchemist!
Transforming the tears, pains, and sweat,
To rapture, joy and Bliss!
To Inspiration and Elegance!

Thank you Yeshwant!
It is the understanding and love,
Of souls of your like,
Which keeps the beauty Alive!
It is your listening,
Which transforms a naive lad,
To graceful wordsmith!
You guys transform an existence,
To a thriving!
You make life worth living!
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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The New Birth

Shaking off his old ways,
The sheepish, wining lad,
Stands out as a gallant Man!

Tired of being a creeper,
Decides the ivy vine,
To be a Tree – with a backbone!
Straight to stand against the storm,
For a cause – for a meaning!

Though being alone,
Without a one to support,
The Tree shall stand out in its own Grace,
In its own Signature Stance!

No more the wining lad,
Weeps on the forgone past,
Nor does it throbs with expectation
Of the lovely future!
Does he what is right.
Every moment, being in the action spree!

Chooses he not to waste his time,
On people and things,
Those do not deserve his grace.
For cares he not,
Who care not him!

Sticks he still,
To realm of unconditionality,
But cares he not,
Whether he is loved or considered!

He is no more the shimmering star,
But he is the glaring Sun,
Who stands for his cause,
And is sure what he is,
And What he wants!
He proclaims to all,
Close and Far,
Known and unknown –
I am a giver!
Need I none from you!
For what will you give to one
Who already has everything!

More than feelings,
More than emotions,
It is the cause – the purpose of existence.
That is important – that is relevant.

The new life is an opportunity,
To be an expert – in a domain –
Creating one’s worth with
Intellectual and Psychological Capital.
Being richer with many and more
Relationships – friends and family!
But at the same time,
Maintaining ones own space,
One’s own grace,
Doing what is in style,
Creating what is Beautiful!

Growing up from the world of a dog,
To the kingdom of Chiefdom!
Nourishing, guiding and shaping the world,
With the most inspiring character –
Something on which all are proud of!

It is coming to the realization
That it is more important to be RIGHT,
Than being just GOOD!
It is about caring for a mission,
And standing by it – no matter what!
It is about having the veins of the steel,
To tame the lowly and stupid genetic urge –
Gifting to oneself the artifact of being Human!

Life is living in action – perennial action,
Working always towards something bigger than itself!
It is about creating a legacy,
Not out of the stance of an egoist self,
But from the place of being a link – a carrier of goodness!

It’s nice to have woken up,
From a long slumber,
Metamorphosis it was gallant,
The journey from the caterpillar to the butterfly!

Life is nice, life is good!
The best part of it,
Is the continuous lesson it teaches,
Ushering to realizations anew!
Leading one to the New Birth!
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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The Sequel - The Sun Redeemed!

This is the sequel to the poem - The Sun's Redemption.
To read the Part I refer the link - http://criativ-mind.blogspot.com/2011/03/suns-redemption.html

- Part II -
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For the first time he stood for
Not the self,
But for the world!
For a cause!
For something he cared!

Glaring all his way,
From dawn to dusk,
Did one thing he remember -
He exists for something,
Bigger and greater than his own life.
It was not about his love for his Moon,
But it was his love for life as a whole.

Disgusted was he living
The small life,
Of the shimmering star,
Fragile and anxious,
For being loved and cared!
Forever captivated in the
Expectation of understanding and kindness,
In the ever deepening thirst
For being understood and loved!

Now and for ages to come,
To the endless eternity,
He was a glaring Sun,
Being center of an ongoing rhythm of life!
For the planets, asteroids and
The celestial bodies innumerable!
For the Flora and Fauna,
For the glory of warmth and light,
In the life of the countless life forms!
Gradually the glare of his,
Had expanded beyond his own self!

Civilizations many came up,
Evolved and grew,
To higher states of complexity,
To higher levels of culture and beauty!
Undertaking “Non-Zero” games!
All under the expanse of
His nourishing warmth of Blessings.

With wonder he would look down,
From the clear blue sky.
Expanse of bright Sun flowers
All smiling at him,
Following him wherever he goes!

And then there were the plants and trees,
The clear streams and glistening waterfalls,
All whose existence depended on his glow!
For with their silent heart filled with gratitude,
All of them acknowledged his presence!

There was the little child,
Opening her eyes early in the morning,
Enchanted with the happy glow of the day outside!
Glory on the top of glory,
Her cheeks and his Glow!

With the call of the rooster,
Did the day of activity start with his first rays!
Men and women, busy in their work,
Giving humanity a push
Towards a newer and better tomorrow!

He was the harbinger of
Bright, new happy day of creation and acitivty,
Eradicating the Sedenteriness,
The laziness and darkness of the night!

So fulfilling was his existence,
Seeing people in “Flow”,
Constructive using their talents,
Shaping their dreams,
Creating things which never existed,
Enabling mankind doing things
Which it never was able to do in past!

Ushered into a new realm of existence,
The Sun proclaimed -
I create - therefore I am!
His existence was all about
Being used up - burning every moment,
To provide for a cause - for the world!
He cared none for himself,
Continued he to burn!
For the only purpose of his existence,
Was to give and give!
He had nothing for his own,
To take and hoard!

Sometimes, distracted falls he prey,
To his lost passions and old fancies,
Eclipsed is he sometimes in the shadow of his Moon!
Then there is darkness - gloomy and sad!
Quick realizes he,
Awakes from the slumber long,
Snaps away he from the human urge,
To again start living a life of the Sun!
Glaring with meaning,
For a cause and mission!

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The Sculptor’s Sin

During the heydays of Italian Renaissance,
In the city of Florence,
There lived a Sculptor – Michel Simoni.
Loved he to sculpt his ideas, his dreams, his passion!

Since 3 years long,
He was sculpting an angel!
An angel with the Most Beautiful Eyes!
With the most beautiful Soul!
And a Charming Smile!

It was the ides of March,
In the wee hours of the morn,
Did he put the final stroke of his chisel –
 His dream angel was standing,
With all her glamour and radiance,
Looking directly to his heart!

He was happy,
He was proud!
For he made it possible,
The Divinity descend to the
Land of the mortals!
There was standing with all her glory,
His amorous beautiful angel!

The sculpture was new,
But why he felt that he knew her?
Not for just years few,
But since eternity long!
Then, now and forever!
Yes, he was in love!

But then the king’s men came,
On dark horses, with armor and sword.
Took they the angel,
For it was the deal done – a 3 years contract!

Michel Simoni stood still
Cold as a lifeless statue,
Even tears denied to flow,
For he was parched deep down the heart!

He was in love with his Angel.
Deep and profound,
A primeval deep bond,
Something he had never experienced!
Something so special so divine!
Nothing much could he do,
For his beloved was a lifeless statue.
Indifferent on anything and everything!
For she was just a cold marble,
With no heart to throb, no mind to think!

Stuck on to his indifferent Angel,
Lost he his peace of life,
Always lost was he,
In memories of her
Most Beautiful Eyes,
Her bonhomie Smile!

With every new work he took,
With every new sculpture,
He tried to bring his lost angel
In form, with the same fervor!

Kept he on his search,
For exactly those eyes,
And that Smile,
And that Soul!
In every new work he did,
With every stroke of his chisel!

For life gives to the new,
The archaic perishes for the modern!
Knew Michel Simoni none of these,
Stuck was he in his life!

Years passed by.
Seasons came new.
With new winds from the heavens,
New rainbow decorating the new sky!
The Sun rays were new,
None were the trace of old!
But who could convince
Michel Simoni!
For he was stuck with his Angel –
With the Most Beautiful Eyes!

Now Michel Simoni was old and fragile.
In his late 70s was he.
The silver long hair,
The wrinkled skin,
Were doing their best,
To keep the throbbing heart alive-
All tired of waiting for the past to return!

It was a turbulent night,
Tumultuous Ocean kept shouting of omen.
 Vultures crowded the sky.
Michel Simoni was no more!
Stuck with his Angel in heart,
Did his soul part –
In search of those Beautiful Eyes,
In some new land – stuck in the past – Still!

They poured his ashes
To the flowing stream,
That turbulent and dark night!
The stream patted the back of the ashes,
And asked with concern –
Why dear Michel Simoni,
You still are stuck to the past – the stale!
Past is dead. Life is the present!
Why dear Michel Simoni,
You became that stagnant pond,
With the stale water of the past!

For the Pond is so dead and stale,
That even the humble and lovely Lotus,
Never even touches it,
And accepts its wetness on his soul!

The Stream continued –
Live like me –
Flowing with life to newness ever!
Being pulled by life –
With all its Novelty and Hope!
I keep flowing through eternity,
Never stuck to the past!
There is always that new promise,
The new world, the new shore,
I look forward to!
I have not gone the way of the Pond!
My life is about keeping on the move,
Exploring newer depth,
Creating new meaning!
I am not just a river,
I am a “Rivering”!
I am not a noun,
I am a Verb!

Winnowing in the rhythm of the stream,
Michel Simoni did realize his Sin!
Redeemed was he,
At the altar of the Stream!

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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The Eternal Togetherness

Through the exotic Gold Pen,
Embellished With the Gold Nib.
Decorated with the
Lustrous peacock feather.
Was in conversation,
With the serene and silent,
Pristine white paper,
The throbbing red ink!

With emotions from the Stars,
Right from the celestial abode,
Did flow in spontaneity,
Carving out the
Divinity in form!

One at a time,
With every stroke of the nib,
A drop of blood-red pearl was born,
And it dedicated his life -
His whole being in carving out -
His love for her,
In words anew!
Countless such red pearls were born,
And they died -
With a smiling face,
For they could lay their lives,
Right on the bosoms of the paper!
The ink was determined,
Till the last ounce,
To be used for a cause,
He was proud of,
For his only love!

The Poet kept writing,
In awe each moment,
For he knew those were not
his words, but were from
Some uncurable romantic maverick.
For he never had seen,
such purity and depth,
In every turn and twist!

Dying and then being re-born,
Just to die again,
In the hope to be born,
Again to carve another stroke,
In that heart of his beloved!
And then to die with a smile!

Many lives did pass,
Many births did he take!
Many poets came and went,
Writing in their trance –
Some wrote about their beloved,
Some about Gods and Demons,
Some about country side and
Beauty of Nature!
The ink kept flowing through eternity -
For he had to sing his song –
He had to participate in
The Eternal Togetherness
With Her – birth after birth!

With every short but intense life,
Was strung beads by beads
An expression for posterity!
A beautiful legacy –
A heritage of harmony, calm, peace and love!
Some called it Shakespeare’s Sonnet,
Some called it the Milton’s epics,
Some venerated it as Blake’s mysticism,
Some worshiped it as Rumi’s Grace!

All the mortals,
Ages after ages,
Always praised the poets,
And swore by them!

But none knew –
It was that urge for eternal togetherness,
That made things magical!
The ageless passion of the Ink for his beloved –
The pristine, charming paper!

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