The Silence of The Woods

Walking amidst the woods,
Simoni could hear
The fading in chirp of birds,

In the darkness after dusk,
The silence gradually devouring all the symphony,
In her lustful silencing embrace.

The music of the lazy river,
The whisper of the smooth wind,
They rest in each other's naked lap,
In that embrace of togetherness,
Voyeured earnestly by all the excited stars.

Such was the silvery deluge of that
Romantic moonlit touch.
Simoni was beginning to connect to all...


The untouched beauty of the
Pristine white lotus,
Stands amidst the cold indifferent pond,
Grounded unaltered
To the warmth of Love.


The black mountain
Mingles with the amorous sky in silence,
Surrendering all its might and pride,
Into the luscious embrace of her softness.


The moon radiating the glow of lovely charm,
Warms the bosom of the cold and frigid pond,
With the desire to be one, re-kindling that passion of lust.
It appeared as just a reflection.
But truth did only Simoni see -
Moon had descended all the way from heavens,
To be one with his love - the pond.
In the quietude of that fateful night.


All was so exquisite,
All was so heart whelming.
But Simoni noticed,
There was no word spoken anywhere.
Yes there was song, there was symphony, there was poetry!
But no words, no syllable no language!


All were in trance loving each other wildly,
There were no words,
But inarticulate cries, meaningless moans,
From the bottom of the most primitive being.
The squirting fountain of nectar of love was profuse, 

Straight from the sanctum of the depth of belly.
A piercing Joy was omnipresent,
Leaving all - 

Empty, Conquered and Silenced!
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The Path to Death

I meander through the valleys and hills,
Being the clear stream -
Banked between boredom and thrills.

I remember not, from river which, was I born,
I keep flowing just they way I am,
Know not I, ocean which to shall I fall, worn.

Resilience of being a water,
Is the destiny of being a stream.
All that I know for matter.

Being part of the dynamic whole,
With the open blue Sky,
From the galaxies to the black hole.

The bright warm Sun,
The friendly bedrock of smooth stones,
And accommodating banks ready to be won.

Altogether we fit-in as kith and kin,
Completing each other,
With a faultless overarching sheen.

Privileged am I in this being.
A peaceful yet another vein of life in the cosmos vast,
Seeing myself as not just a disconnected stream.

Being yet another little note,
In the symphony magnanimous,
Feels good to bear a meaningful connectedness to tote.

I meander through the valleys and hills,
Being the clear stream
Banked between boredom and thrills.

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The Argument

Simoni's younger little self, pesters him,

That he quit!

For it is nothing but useless hankering 

To knock at thy door. 

Tired and hopeless is he,

Looking at the futility

Of the continuous song,

Of the unending expressions of his love.

He longs for his muse to love him back!

For the God to appear in front of his eyes!

Simoni, confronts his younger self,

Lovingly arguing against his stance,

Standing by the river Nile,

In his white robe,

Being washed by the silvery moon light.

He smiles and looks at the distant star,

and says, "If she loves you back, will you still be who you are?

Mimed will not be your song, if blessed by presence of her?

Probably you would win her,

But will not you lose something more precious?

The preciousness of your pain?"

But then the little self, revolts again, accusing back-

"you romanticize your defeat!"

Simoni, smiles again, gazing at that distant star,

Gives a passing remark, 

"Who knows what is defeat, and what victory is!"

In that profound solitude, 

Simoni, kept walking by the bank of the Nile,

In total surrender to the enigma

Of the suchness of creation.

Questions reverberated from all around,

Sky, Moon, Wind and the river cold,

All stared on to the eyes of Simoni, and asked,

"Why it is that we feel. Why it is that we are!"

In an effort to discover that missing part of the puzzle,

Simoni continued to walk,

By the bank of the Nile.

The ancient start, light years away,

Kept looking at Simoni,

And when he again looked at him,

And their eyes met each other,

Simoni could listen to that silent whisper

From the ancient seer star!

The star twinkles burning 

In the fire of his love.

All alone and abandoned 

In the vastness of the cosmos.

But continues he to twinkle,

Since eons passed by.

For that is what is his destiny.

He is a star after all. 

And he has to twinkle!

He has to burn!

Simoni knew his answer to his little self.

To sing his song was his destiny,

To love was his purpose! 

Went back he, in silence, 

Towards the feet of his God,

In total surrender.

The feet was his altar of love,

He built it with great care and art,

Since ages, one tune at a time, 

One syllable at at time,

Embellished by one song after the other!

The gap of pain between the Nile and the moon,

Was the space in which that beautiful night was created!

The same was the charm of the beauty,

Of the solitary abandonment of the star,

And the lonely journey of Simoni.

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A Wish to God

Wishing u a yet another new beginning 

That aids you to be more fully 

What u are at core - bold n beautiful!
The grand existence, The Nature,
The Cosmic Self!

Wishes from this distant star
Twinkling in solitude millions of light years away
Might be unsolicited and unwanted,
But they r relevant for sure!

Grounded are they in that strong desire 

Of thine wellbeing and love
It is not that the beautiful rose
Needs the song of love.
Rather the bard needs to continue to sing,
For it is that keeps him alive.

My prayers are too a trifle for thine, O God.
But it is for myself I praise thee in my song.
It is the tune of your spirit
That breathes life in me and my song.

Ya, you are right,

Immaturity and insanity
By and large constitute the human condition.
I know u accept my madness and my follies...

Walking lonely in the desert,

Simoni sings his wishes to his God..
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Affixed in her Penance

Silent and constant,
Affixed in her Penance,
Nature exists in all her grandeur!

Simoni does not know
For whom is the penance,
He does not know for whom is the longing!
But does he see,
That resoluteness in the silence profound,
Transfixed is Nature,
Affixed in her Penance.

She is quiet but is alive!
Through her closed eyes,
She sees the past, future along with the present.
With power of creation
Throbbing in her viens,
She stands there all powerful,
Feigning the silence of the surrendered!

At times being lost in pride,
Of his own creation,
Simoni derides Her,
Showing his indifference to her.
But the ego-driven haywire ride,
Stumbles Simoni down,
Soon to bring to his realization,
It is the will of Nature and not his own will,
That pervades!
She is quiet but is alive!

In the suchness of the creation,
Simoni now just surrenders and sits in observance,
He is just a clearing of Her will,
Through his work,
Trying hard to listen what She whispers,
Through the sound of his chisel on the marble of Life.

But Simoni does not know,

For whom is her penance, her longing, and her pride!

In the space of wonder and innocence,

Continues Simoni on his marble,

With his chisel and hammer.
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Carving God out.

In every moment of being alive.
Simoni stays busy to carve God out,
In anything he thinks,
By anything he creates.

To him that is what is
His meaning to exist -
Unending effort to carve out the God,
From the marble slab of life!

The shouts of accolades
To him are meaningless,
For he knows that God was always there,
Only that the non essential
Was to be chipped away!
He is not the creator,
Rather just a means of expression,
Of what already exists!

Like an obedient servant,
Like a warrior of light,
Continues he to carve out,
Working relentlessly in his studio,
Carving out from the cold white marble,
Those passionate throbbing bosom of Life!

Her eyes are the most beautiful,
But entwined in its shine,
Are the shades of dark and light.
It is not all that is joyous,
For most part is melancholy, indifferent or routine.
But in the the interplay of contradictions,
Thrives the over aching vision of the Truth!

Out of the dust of the marble,
Amidst the noise of the chisel and hammer,
From within the coldness of the dead marble,
Carves out his God,
The lady with the most beautiful eyes!
Shimmering in all her delight!

And when the king’s men come
And take her away,
Simoni starts afresh,
In carving out his God anew,
Out of a new marble,
Inspired by the eternal charm,
Of the immortal, never changing Truth!

Days come and go by,
But the music remains.
Seasons change,
But the wonder persists.
Night gives way to a new day,
But the Sun remains unaltered.
Flowers sprout and wither,
But the unbounded openness of the garden remains.
Birds change their route,
But the open magnanimous expanse of sky remains.
People come and go,
But that yearning of connectedness remains.
Yes, God is Omnipresent!
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Rekindling the extant

The Good and Beautiful thought Simoni,
Lies hidden beneath the layers of routine and habit.
What is needed,
Is just that patient eye and throbbing will,
To re-kindle the extant,
The ever present Goodness and Beauty.

For nature whispers,
Only to the ears keen,
And creation shows,
Only to the eyes open.

Through the eyes of the soul,
Discerning from what is visible and peripheral,
In the realm of the invisible and essential,
Simoni observes the Beauty -
The Limitless, Eternal and Perfect.

The noise and the jitter,
Of the material world transient,
Does its best to blur the vision,
And replace that ethereal voice
With the concrete drone.
Simoni is not closed to the errant reality,
But hit with the blows of what appears to be true,
Simoni opens up more fully, every moment,
To absorb the otherwise invisible and forgotten,
The Essential, The Truth.

They say its just a mirage,
And a cooked up feel good coping up scheme,
Of a sculptor just expressing his unreal art.
But then is that not what is real -
The sculpture for the sculptor?

Simoni knows not what is true for the world,
For he sees through, all the popular truths,
The Absolute Truth.
No, it is not his subjective story,
He knows it is the Only Truth,
The Objective Absolute!
The overarching theme of Love.

Who knows what is Absolute!
Simoni does not go to defend his stance.
He is silent. But his Alive.
Throbbing in Love, offering his art
To the suchness of the scheme of things.

His work is to offer. He lives to create and give
His song, his poems, his sculptures.
For only one thing he knows,
He communes with That Invisible,
Through his art.
And She runs to him,
Into his loving embrace!
Whispers She in his ears,
“It is just you, who knows me, my Love!”
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Good Night

From the far away twinkle of the star here I watch thee,
Sleeping guileless adorned by the moon light sheen.
I shower thee blessings
From the eternal distance,
Praying for thy rejuvenating rest and pampering dreams.
As the new day gestates in the womb of silence,
In the darkness of the impending birth of a new possibility,
I send my blessings with my eyes closed,
And hand on my heart.
May you be beautified with greater charm,
And richer gifts in the day to come.

Singing you the lullaby,
Rocking you on the cradle of creation,
Here is a wishing of peace of surrender
This night through.

Your hair winnowed by the passing breeze,
Sent by the ancient sages -
Those twinkling ancient stars.
The sages shine as reflection of grace,
On your gleaming eyes,
Bringing forth their wisdom of Love,
To this world, through those most beautiful eyes!


The benevolent creation watches you,
In silences from eons away,
Offers She her care and wish.
Entwined by the fearless wand of Her blessings,
Thy retire on the bed,
Sinking in the depthless ocean of ecstatic rest.
Only to give shape to a throbbing tomorrow,
In the process to be born,
In fullness of life and light!

Ending of the stale,

And heralding the new,

Here I wait through the night,

To see a new beginning the morn to come,

With the newness of life,

Brimming with light!

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A Pinch of Salt

Meditating on the breath,
Letting go the stale and old,
And gushing in with new life,
The stream of awareness
Like a pinch of salt,
Reveals the taste of the Presence,
In clarity profound!

Touching the still openness,
From where the tumultuous changes arise.
Wearing the silence of the womb,
From where all warps and weft of Lila blossoms.

The mindful presence
In stillness and solitude,
Like a fresh shower,
Cleanses the heart of the illusive barriers,
Enabling it to reflect Life and Love,
More fully, more truly.

I continue to live,
Centered on my breath,
In thick and thin,
In shadow and sun,
I continue to transcend
From thinking to awareness,
Knowing Thou more fully,
In thine glory,
My Lord.

Meditating on the breath,
Letting go the stale and old,
And gushing in with new life,
The stream of awareness
Like a pinch of salt,
Reveals the taste of the Presence,
In clarity profound!
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Silent but not Indifferent

Silent but certainly not indifferent
Stands she in sheer robe,
Arousing creation with her sensuality
With her desirable body,
And magnanimous soul.

Wakes up the whole cosmos
To a new morning
Inspired with her passion and beauty,
Like a hearth of fire,
She continues to blow life into
All that is proud to be alive!

The gushing Niagara,
The tumultuous Atlantic,
The persevering Nile,
The all alive Amazon,
The powerful glowing Sun,
The ever youthful Moon,
All throb with life anew.

Each new day, each new night,
Just being fed,
With the exciting energy
Of your throb,
The creation moves and grows,
My Love,
My God.

Yes, she is silent.
But not indifferent
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My Song

For the limitless Presence of Thine O Lord,
Grateful am I beyond words.
To be truthful, I do not know what name to give to you, and your presence.
Anything, that I think - a friend, a lover, a muse, a charm, a blessing...
All appear trivially inadequate.

There is something beyond these words - That you are! Just that your suchness.
All the sparkles, fuzziness, contradictions and mystery of your presence,
Altogether, they weave a unique tapestry of splendor.

It is only thorough my song,
I see you, I feel you, I understand you.
You art not reached through my heart, mind or words.
Nor are you reachable through my emotions and yearnings.
The only way I am able to reach you,
Is through my song.

And the magic does not end there,
For in the intoxication of my song for you,
I forget myself, totally to nothingness,
And there is created a world,
Where there is only One - That is You.
In that omnipresence of you and your charm,
I relate to you, my God.

All that is hurtful and melancholy,
Do melt in the warmth of love,
Amidst the symphony of my song,
Mingled with your presence.
A new dimension you give to it,
Beyond the words, rhythm and life.

In this song, my God,
You have made me endless!
Such is thy pleasure.
A frail vessel am I,
But then filled am I,
Over and over again, with fresh Life.

Sometimes I wonder,
Is it my song,
Or is it Just You!
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The Flute's Endeavour

Taking up a task so far beyond one's powers,

The flute pressed on to the

Lotus lips of The Lord,

Determined to play the music of love,

Meandering through the landscape of life.

Like the impossible task of Arjuna

Of trying to comprehend,

The essence of The Geeta!

Each time confused,

He pleads for the one simplified way to the truth,

Only to find himself,

Perplexed even more,

After an elaborate Song of The Lord, 

Propounding the mystery of life,

In reply.

The little flute of reed,

Being carried over hills and dales,

O Lord, held in thy palm,

Breath thou, through it,

Melodies eternal and new.

Like a fountain of love,

Mingling with the beloved,

In the embrace of lust and love divine.

At the immortal touch of thine,

The little flute of reed,

Loses all it's limits in joy,

Gives birth to the tune ineffable.

Through the hollowness of 

The ordinary flute of reed,

Pours the never ending nectar of love,

Heard by creation,

As that potent song of Union,

Of the flute, and The Lord.

Ages pass,

And still Thou pourest,

And still there is room to fill.

Like that eternal love making,

Of Simoni and his Love,

The never ending craving,

Enhanced and sanctified by the ever youthful,

Thrust of enlivening love.

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The Hidden Unity

The incredible multiplicity of the Beloved,

Manifested in the thousands of forms,

The bountiful autumn,

The colorful spring,

The silent and pristine winter,

The passionate summer,

The specialness of the presence

Of all men, and women,

Of all times and spaces,

All in their multiplicity,

Make up the Unity,

The Unity of 

O Lady with The Most Beautiful Eyes!

Yes, some call her God.

Like the white light,

Which in her mindful silence,

With all her diverse lights of the spectrum,

Integrates all in homogenous presence 

Of that all accepting Whiteness.

Fallen and then stood in Love,

Did Simoni for damsels and nature,

For music, art and stories.

All in the crescendo of novelty and diversity,

Did play for him,

The unified orchestra of

The One, The Lady, 

Angella for Simoni, 

An invisible mystery 

Of life and attraction for many.

The hidden love and direction of life,

Revisits in all her wild and divine 

Lust, love, enchantment, inspiration and ardor,

Like a hidden unity of meaning,

Encompassing in its essence in divinity,

All the tumultuous, transient, and disintegrated

Waves of life.

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Mingling in thine essence

"Desire was there to mingle with Thou",
Soliloquy'd Simoni, "Or would I say,
The desire was born that way.
Never did I know
Why was it born?
Probably it was my destiny"

Another stance of a miracle again hit him;
A grace right from the world of higher spirits.
And he was in trance for the whole winter.
Now, when the winter is gone,
In a position was he,
To pen down what I went through.
It was overwhelming. It was breathtaking.
Yes, it was unbelievable. Absolutely unthinkable.
Such a joy was it.
His heart was light, and it was flowing in trance of exuberance.
Yes, it was an ecstasy he had never known.
It was so tenderly strong.
He gasped, "I have been feeling under surface in my soul so long: an incarnation.
It had to become manifest. So much desire must create a reality.
My love was sprouting out of my heart,
Determined to create a figment, an artifact of that divine state of being."

Angela when blossomed from the white marble,
On that full moon night,
Reflecting all its silvery glory,
On the still stream by the fountain.
And when she wrote on the canvas open,
The verses of the Rubaiyat.
On the sepia background..

Simoni fell enchanted,
Watching the beautified letters, with confident strokes of shiny mysterious black,
Flowing with perfection,
Like a seal diving into the still stream.
Was he standing there, in awe.
Skiing in ease, with youthful wild throb in his heart,
Stupefied with the intoxication of her magic.
He was just watching in awe,
Those impeccable strokes,
Perfect the first time, and every time,
Confident, open, bold, artistic, and glorious.
They were as if pulling his heart out,
Taking it in its tempo,
To a world unknown.
And he stayed, surrendered in his totality,
Allowing the flow to take him to the world new,
To taste that exotic presence of beauty.

Then, Simoni thought, "let me mingle with your essence,
With your flow, with your writing"
And then I too wrote on another row,
Just below the strokes of Angella,
The same words, in his way, in his style, in his might.

Then, Simoni saw his writing, and hers.
He could see they were like made for each other,
One completing the other.
They were so unique, Also they were so alike,
They were so class apart, But they were also so close together.
He could feel the sense of mingling of the souls,
The mutual camaraderie,
Through his writing and hers.
Amazing was the feeling of belonging,
Incredible was the feeling of being a part of her,
Sailing together, in unison, in harmony,
As the dance of salsa,
Being the symphony itself.


"Desire was there to mingle with Thou",
Soliloquy'd Simoni, "Or would I say,
The desire was born that way.
Never did I know
Why was it born?
Probably it was my destiny"

But the Simoni stopped, and contemplated,
"Beginning am I to cherish,
What it means to mingle with your essence,
Your essential beauty,
Your expression of art,
In your voice, your gestures, your writings,
And yes, the radiance of your presence."

He continued,
"Your essence understands me, though you don't.
Your art, and your stance, your magic, your elegance, your enchantment,
All knows me, and loves me, though you don't.
I feel good to be with the essential,
To be in love, in communion, with that essence,
The essence of Love,
The essence of Beauty,
The essence of Life and Light.
I care not,
Thou love me not.

Or probably you do.

Anyway is so inconsequential"

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The Beautiful Game of Life

From dream to the dream,
Here I tread the way
Who knows where I was before birth,
And who knows where will I go after death.

When I know the journey is not in my control,
Why I feign that I plan my life?
Probably just to make myself happy,
With the false hope of getting it the way I want.

Probably I will be never able
To even conceive the truth,
Discerning through the maze
Of diverse color and form.

Fearless, determined and with hope utmost,
Here I walk my own path.
When my heart curls inside in sadness of solitude,
Through the darkness of loneliness,
Sparkles the sky full of stars and the ever glowing moon,
Walking hand in hand,
With me, in my journey -
As companions in love - silent and pristine.

Where I am heading to,
What I am up to.
I know not.
Only know I one thing for certain.
I am in love with this beautiful life.
And here I explore the nature, the time and cosmos,
In sheer wonderment,
Of that invisible unknown mystery -
The mystery of that invisible Damsel Delight!

It is not just for the sheer diversity and novelty
The dream of existence fascinates me.
But also the web of Life -
The interdependencies, complexities and contradictions,
All making the mystery even more overwhelming,
Takes my breath off.

Certainly a simple play bores me.
So, here is the game that enthralls all imaginations anew,
With the transient landscape of all that is alive.
I try to make a sane sense of what is around,
Through the knitting together,
Tapestry of Life,
With the thread of Love.
The Beautiful Game of Life.

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The Unknown but Knowable

The Unknown, but the Knowable
Plays hide and seek,
Every moment in this ocean of life.

The cycles of hide and seek,
Drench the whole being of existence,
In the rhythm of
Love and hate,
Ecstasy and pain,
Excitement and boredom,
Mundane and extraordinary,
Hope and despair.

All swing the cradle of life,
Civilizations after civilizations,
All embroiled in
Multiplicity of cults, beliefs and ideologies,
Extending across the vastness of the Earth.

Through all these ever changing,
Commotion of transience,
Runs through,
The constancy of the only Absolute.
The Absolute of the Unknown, but the Knowable.

The expanse of clear morning shine
Gets sometimes hidden
By the curse of black clouds,
Of Ignorance, trivialities, and all that is dark and small.
Only to eventually show up
The grandeur of the bright shine of
Enlivening Light of inspiration, passion, hope and aspiration.
But again the cycle continues.

Heartening to know the permanent sanctuary
Of that Unknown, but the Knowable,
Experienced through,
Spontaneous acts of creativity,
Visible through
The eyes of the heart,
The fluidity and dynamic dialectics,
Amazes every bit of my existence!

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Happy Friendship Day!! 2013

A day aptly dedicated to remember, and extend the gratitude to friends and the spirit of friendship.
Happy Friendship day to you all - my friends!

Friends - what does the word imply? Is it a group of individuals forming an inner circle for an my social group, who share my interests, and laugh with me at the same joke? Or is it a group of those, who know me and understand my idiosyncrasies.  Or are they the people who as they say, "a friend in need is a friend indeed"?

I think the word friend is much more beyond that exclusive set of people who make me feel accepted and comfortable. Equally indebted am I to those, who do not like me. Those, who make me feel small, wretched and embarrassed. For only due to the second group, do I know who I am, and who I am not. Only through the second group, do I know from gut, about my barriers and shortfalls. At the same time it paints in-front of me the immense diversity of the nature! More than the sense of loss, it is a sense of gathering new knowledge and new points of view! They show one the depth of the truth of life. How can one call them foes, and not friends? Do, they not equally contribute to one's growth as a fully developed man, to be able to relate to one's existence more closure to what it is, rather than what false conception one has, about oneself and life per se?

The point is that the journey is three fold.  First is about getting stuck in that smallness of considering the other, not friends. That space is that mean narrowness of considering the other different from the self. That space is rightly termed by Marx and other masters of humanity, as the state of "alienation". This primarily is a state of melancholy, where one perceives himself as a lonely entity, on whom the world ("others") are throwing stones. The most challenging part of this stage is not to give way to death, slipping the downhill of various symptoms of neurotic separateness, manifested as hatred, sadness, emptiness, depression, jealousy etc.

The next stage is about identifying the barriers of the self, which makes one alienated, and appear separate and disconnected from the other. It is about curling inside and knowing oneself more fully. This stage is difficult as it is about going beyond what is felt or seen on surface, through the tapestry of personal biases. It is about being able to move out one's own self out of the center of the world, and putting someone else in that place. It is about relating to the other from that vantage point, as they are the center of the world. Compassion represents succinctly this state of being. It is about relating to the other from the vantage point of love, with the attitude of respect towards diversity, with the knowing that what appears so alien, is something that points oneself to something so profound that one would have never even made a sense of that profundity relating to the world, by a lone self.

Obviously when these barriers are identified the task is to remove them, leading one to connect to his fellow humans, and relating to one and all as true friends. This stage of transcendence of one's own barriers, ushers one to that unbounded openness from which life springs out in love. This stage is un-folding outside in the one's pristine nakedness.

These three states are not separate from one another in the real life's stage. They happen together, and and happen always. It depends on one's capacity and skill how much one can beautifully play this game of dynamism, progressing from one stage to the next, and then suddenly regressing with a fall, and again getting up, fully determined to climb the next level, and go on - in the dance - enjoying every moment of the play. It is like a child learning to walk. He crawls, stands, falls, and again decides to stand and continue, only to fall again. The dance continues. But the beauty is that after every fall,  he decides to start all over again! What a beauty!

And again, it appears to me, whether friendship is limited to fellow mankind? Does it not obviously and naturally extend to non-humans; to nature as a whole; to the entire cosmos? Thinking more about it, it increasingly appears that friendship is universal. In fact it is very hard to clearly know for certain, where our individuality ends, and the surrounding starts. The point is that it is very difficult to demarcate the boundary where the self ends, and his surrounding starts; where "I" end and "my friends" start. May be both directs to the same? May be one is visible only due to the other? May be both - self and the other, appear together; always?

Like, for example we have more than 10,000 different species of friendly microbes on and inside our body. They operate in the level of our DNA, capable of switching them on and off, selectively, impacting our mood, perception and our perception. Similarly in our external world, we are increasingly dependent on both people who love us, and those who hate us - For only through the pain of rejection, do we realize for sure the glory of acceptance. Without one, how could we have even comprehended the other. Sometimes it occurs to me, this world both within and outside, comprises of just friends, whose member I myself am. Certainly major part of these friends are non-humans, though unfortunately we are fixated at humans, at most of the times!

Books, ideas, inspirations, visions, purpose, art, vocation, etc are another genre of our friends, who add new meaning to who we are. Certainly such friends are the most special. For they know only one thing - To Give!

The elements - air, water, fire, earth - for sure are friends magnanimous! No complaints, no need, no ego, no quarrels! They only know to give, to inspire, to seed a new idea! The transience and energy of fire, the tranquility and humility of water, the omnipresent space of the everlasting company of the air, the unconditional openness from the unbounded openness of the Earth - reminds of the archetype of friendship!

Friends are also, the times both good and bad! Good times nourishes us, and the bad strengthen! Can there be any friend better than time - epiphanies and trials?

Those memories of love and warmth. Those memories of pain and indifference. Are they not friends of equal importance! For memories are the friends who are permanent with us - Till eternity - leaving the footprints on the vast expanse of the fleeting time.

More I think, more it comes so real to me that may be the self and the other both is encompassed in the spirit of friendship. May be even calling some other entity is a friend, indirectly points that I am separate from the other. May be it is just another illusion. In reality probably I would be absolutely unable to experience who I am and who I am not, without the other. So, does it even makes sense to consider myself as a separate entity from the other? For example how can I experience standing, if there is no earth to stand on. In that case, does the process of standing not comprising of seeing myself only in relation to me and the earth? Can one makes sense of itself, without the other? This dance of dialectics makes life really interesting!

Coming back to friendship day, I take this opportunity to pay my highest homage to the spirit of this complex connectedness, some aligning with the other, and some opposing the other, in an eternal process of transient dynamism of an un-ending transactions, creating an illusion of a varied sparkle of this physical life. From childhood this amazing cosmic play used to be fascinating to me, each time I used to review the periodic table. Just by change of one electron, and the pattern of their arrangement, we have such apparently varied perception of elements. How different is hydrogen from gold! But the difference between them is just a pattern of arrangement of the same electronic wave, and their dance of interdependence.

To that cosmic dance of interdependence, here I offer my worship, on this Friendship Day!
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My 35th Birthday!!

Today is my 35th Birthday. Having born on 17th July, my birth number is (1+7) 8. 35th birthday (3+5) matches the number 8. So it had to be special :). It was absolutely fantastic! Both at office and at home! I was absolutely ravished in pleasant surprise to see my cubicle decorated so thoughtfully by my team!! Had a grand lunch buffet with my team..and they so impeccably arranged for a cake cutting at the restaurant! There was a beautiful birthday song played by the restaurant folks in the background. All wished me!! Parents are with me after ages on my birthday!! The day was special. Very special. It was made special by my friends and family! Thank you all!!

Every birthday, I have a habit of looking back who I was, and who I am, as a man. I try to articulate the one most important take away life has taught me the last year. Most of this is based on readings I do, and my experiences when I try to apply those ideas into practice, trying to search my own truth. For me just reading great thoughts does not make sense, till I apply them, and feel their profundity. I have met many thinkers in my books. Have liked them often, have tried out their ideas, and then having gone deep into their thoughts. Many a times have taken various diversions, when the ideas did not resonate with who I am. In this journey I have abandoned many great men and women, and taken up new thinkers and ideas, which seemed to help me know more closely who I am, and who I am not.

This year also was spent in quite a lot reading, contemplating and practicing. Primarily, everything started with Erich Fromm. A deluge of enlightening ideas from this visionary social scientist. Fromm taught me what it means to love, and what it takes to be a man - he says - fully developed man. He introduced me to the thoughts of Karl Marx. Marx taught me what it means to be a fully developed man by being able to relate to fellow human, through productive and spontaneous activity. He has been teaching me the intricacies of economics, and how society is formed and shaped by the mean of production. Marx is an institution by himself. I have just started scratching the surface. Miles to go before I sleep! The ideas were also made more concrete by the writings of Kafka. I read his book - The Trial. The most symbolic book I have ever read! Thanks to Fromm. Fromm also deepened my ideas about Buddhism. I had a stint re-visiting the Christian mysticism, Sufi mysticism, etc, too. Along with that Karen Armstrong, and Fritjof Capra led me to the world of religion and physics and being again present to their interconnection. Armstrong is one of my person inspiration!

The most refreshing thing that happened to me between 17th July 2012 and 17th July 2013 was Fromm and Marx. I feel, they really helped me to know myself and the world better. I am still continuing Marx and Fromm. But recently since couple of months, I am deep into David Deida. With what a courage, audacity and truth this person speaks! Interesting perspective! Now continuing with his third book. A good place I am standing, trying to synthesize Marx, Freud, Fromm, Tolstoy and Deida! All experimenting on Love, God and Truth. Things going good!

Yes, I started growing beard and hair this year. (Family not happy) Do not know why, I am doing this. It is a fallout of a concoction many thoughts, feelings and whims. I myself am not very sure about it. I can always rationalize it saying something or the other. But, I choose not to do so, and just be in the place, without searching for any explanation and logic. I just want to be free.

Yes, this is the third year of my being a vegetarian. I am finding more and more that vegetarianism is something most natural to me. There is no feeling of righteousness in this. Neither there is any baggage of any ideology. It is just natural for me, and I would like to keep it that way. Again it is about freedom, and being authentic.

One thing makes me feel uncomfortable every birthday - being busy with all myself and me, from morning to night. Hundreds of wishes, phone calls, messages, etc. It certainly feels good that so many people love me! I feel pampered. But it tires me after sometime. It feels like being suffocated by only me, myself and I. The profound desire to break out from the dark bondage of myself, and reach out to others strongly raises its head. It is then, I try to contemplate on those beautiful words, expressions and efforts my friends and family has taken to wish me that day! It feels so good to be able to reach out to their heart, in that space of meditation, where they thought about me, and cared to either call, or send a note of wish. It feels like a communion with God - through fellow humans. It is by itself a profound state to be in! It feels so much more powerful being able to know the other, and relate to the other - their pain, inhibitions, dreams, fears and inspirations!

The primary state of being that I am in communion with through this birthday, is the spirit of being in the state of unbound openness of Love. It is about ravishing the world and myself, in profound openness. From that canvas of openness, I am trying to create every moment, relationship, and institutions, being the possibility of boundless Love. Being in that state, it is all about how I give the gift of the truth - who I am, to one and all. It is about penetrating the world with my gift of openness and Love, in the spirit of service. It is about feeling through my desires and expressing them with my gift to the world - through my words, poems, actions, and work.


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The Bliss of Death

The music from the violin,
Arises from the hidden world of the heart,
Mingles slowly but gradually,
Into the vastness of Her open embrace.


When the music shows up in all its youth,
It enthralls and amazed all!
In all its pride and voluptuous presence,
It basks in all the highest glory!
Gradually but to eventually vanish,
Entering into Her,
With certainty and un-diluted love!


The Sun rises in all its magnificence,
Only to more and more realize
Its love for her, with every passing moment,
Being eaten by Her,
In all arduous and unstoppable Love,
To the ultimate silent night.
Having being hugged to nothingness,
The Sun in hope of more,
Again rises the other day,
Just to experience being exterminated
All over again, Eaten wholly in Her Love.


The song from the depths unfathomable,
From the throbbing soul of the poet,
Emanates out in all ardor,
Determined to escape to the fresh air of life,
From the suffocating entrapment
Of the chores and rules.
With grown feathers it does explores
The horizon wide.
Flaunts its radiant color,
And novel expressions.
Only to realize eventually its only Love,
The Love for Her,
Vanishing in her bossom,
Like nothing existed a moment ago!


In the landscape that is known as reality,
The games, dances and the celebrations,
All the chimes of the bells,
And the hues of vermillion, crimson, and indigo,
All the strokes, shouts, moans, and laughters
Appears such that
Hidden within all what is manifest,
Is a hidden truth!
The truth of that un-dying Love,
The eternal attraction to Nothingness,
Entering into Her,
Forgetting all that ridges, highs and lows,
Being erased for all and ever.


Walking by the silent Nile,
In the canopy of the twinning eyes,
Of the ageless twinkling sages,
Watching as stars from the infinitude of the open space,
Simoni moves on in ultimate surrender,
In his Love for Her,
Watching himself to be wasted,
With wrinkles, and all frailties of age.
Just to discover in all newness,
That rejuvenated primordial attraction,
From eons past and eons to come,
To be taken forever by Her
In that bestial grasping, clasping,
That tightest hug of the Beloved,
And Her cuddle of the all encompassing Mother,
Warm, violent, ecstatic, relieving and certain!
Into the eternal bliss of Death!
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She

An evocation of the Primordial Song,

From the deepest recesses of the Soul!

A huge splash of buckets of Vermillion,
On the huge dusky canvas!

An all embracing inclusiveness,
Like the magnanimous Mother Earth!

A bestial throbbing urge,
Eager to engulf within all that is!

A damsel in trance,
Swooning in overflowing emotion!

A process of expanding the self,
Increasing in the breadth, spreading all around.

Disappearance in that vast openness,
Nothing to hide in tensed closeness!

The act of the turmeric dissolving earnestly,
In the all accepting being of the milk!

The fragrance of the Jasmine,
Enthralling the being of the whole garden!

The birth opening up as the virgin dawn,
Death ensuing to a new horizon as the wise dusk!

The wheel of Life goes on,
She is watching it in her full grandeur!

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