मैं समझ ना पाऊँ तेरी बोली
तेरे सामने लगता है मैं कुछ ना जानू
चेहरे की तेरी चमक और तेरे शब्दों की गति से
कोशिश करूँ की तेरी मंशा पहचानू,
बेचे तू मुझे यह अनमोल वस्तुएँ
ले तू मुझसे सिर्फ़ कुछ चिल्हड पैसे
लाख मेरे कहने पे भी
एक आना भी तू ज़्यादा ना ले,
तेरे पैर छूने को उतारू क्यूँ हूँ मैं ?
तेरे भोलेपन में एक तीखापन है
तेरी आँखों में है सच्चाई जगमग
अपनी बाहों पे अपनी पहचान पहने तू
नहीं तुझे कोई बनावटी शर्म
कपटी सागर की मछली मैं
तेरी सच्चाई की लहर में भिगा दूँ अपना मन …
बेड़ियाँ भी तू बांधता है,
और बंध के झटपटाता भी तू ही है…
हर क्षण हो सकने वाले
हज़ारों सम्भावनाओं को, खंगालता भी तू ही है
और फिर भी, उसी क्षण में पूर्णतः
ना खो पाने की पीड़ा, होती भी तुझे ही है…
कैसा विचित्र बालक है रे तू?
मुस्कुराते हुए असहज भी तू है
और मुस्कुराने की इच्छा भी तेरी ही है…
मना करने के सारे बहाने तेरी ही देन हैं,
और निष्क्रियता में अपूर्णतः का एहसास भी तुझी को है …
I never lose it…
On days with machine like structure;
Even those with unmanageable mayhem,
It's always there -
The connection- to the one above;
- to the one within…
I live through it…
In moments of effortless brilliance;
Even those of suicidal heaviness,
It's always there -
The link - to my divine self;
- to the real me…
I shine through it...
In phases of deepest slumbers;
Even those of excruciating wakefulness,
It's always there -
That connection; That link;
Through calm or chaos -
Of the body or the mind;
I am still connected- I am still linked.
Through that which sustains it all,
That which sustains it all - my breath…
.This Breath.
PS- The first movement of kundalini begins at the bottom of the spine, at the kurma nadi. Control over the kurma nadi is more important than anything in the practice of pranayama or meditation. - The Himalayan Institute ( https://www.himalayaninstitute.org/wisdom-library/kurma-nadi-churning-ocean-nectar/)
I never lose it…
On days with machine like structure;
Even those with unmanageable mayhem,
It's always there -
The connection-
to the one above;
The connection - to the one within…
I live through
it…
In moments of effortless brilliance;
Even those of suicidal heaviness,
It's always
there -
The link - to my
divine self;
The link - to the real me…
I shine through
it...
In moments of deepest slumbers;
Even those of excruciating wakefulness,
It's always
there –
That
connection - that link -
Through calm or chaos -
Of the body or the mind;
I am still connected- I am still linked.
Through that which sustains it all
- my breath…
This Breath.
Unsure, hopeful and most of all,
desperate.
Desperate to be guided, guided to
what I already knew.
Notions and weights of the past
were still fresh,
Experiences and their emotionally
coloured memories.
Memory that sought to be
untangled, untangled and understood.
Hugged the metal vessel with the
snake on guard,
Held it with all the life within
me and repeated my question.
Questioning why I am not able to
find peace, peace in life or in the idea of death.
There were no immediate answers,
no blue lights, no luminous opening chakras,
When I asked you something, you
chose to close your eyes but to speak.
Spoke about everything in the
world, the whole world except what I had asked.
Fifteen hundred days, I held on
to you, with whatever timid strength I could muster,
Compromisingly at times,
defiantly often.
Often making it about me, the
very me that I wanted dead.
What a journey it was that you
have crafted,
Could have been straighter of
course but, has been perfectly curvy.
Curves that were needed, needed
to untangle the karmic mess.
Snakes that were scary have
become fellow companions,
Stares that invoked fear now
remind to be awake.
Wakefulness driven by deep love,
the joyful love for life.
Was seeking ailments, afraid of
volunteering,
Afraid of any new social
situation, unknowingly moved by your grace.
Got situated at Dhyanalinga
scrubbing, scrubbing through this moonless night.
Impossible to put fingers on the
timeline,
Seems like a life long journey
with moments, each profound.
Profound and pregnant, pregnant
enough to contain a lifetime in itself.
Here today, in the chilled water,
forehead plastered to my dear vessel,
All questions dissolved, absent
is the desire to be guided.
Guide found within me, the me
that envelopes everything.
They fall again,
Some
blots of brown,
Ugly,
Yet
not me,
It’s
the dress I wear,
Only
that much should I care;
These
stains will come when in dirt u play,
An
essential part of a life that’s intensely gay,
Stopping
short,
Crying
for what’s not,
Not
the real me, but a cover on my bod;
Play
on, one moment at a time
through
the breath u hold dear
When the game’s done, I will remove the gear;
Now, let us go back in the field
again
To
cover myself with spots,
Spots
that are coloured in fear and in pain…
PS
- the occasional "Bad Trips" of fear, claustrophobic hallucinations, that are reminders
that I am neither the body nor the mind. These two identities can be shrugged
off like the clothes I wear. Jai guru dev - the emotional connection with the
Divine - that hand hold that allows me to suck the strength out of the
universe. Fear is the discomfort of the mind and pain that of the body.
Floating Life …
The
world is full of clouds,
Not just above - everywhere around
Events,
moments, people and places
Come
and go like fleeting white spaces
Connecting
the water from earth to the sky
They
give us something to define life by -
A
melodrama played in our heads,
Characters
and scripts written on fluff beds;
As
transient is the world as are these mounds,
Kings
and Pawns - In these fluff beds are
found;
I
sit back and smile at my self - created notions,
But
it’s time to go surf on this cloudy ocean...
Horrendous
and scary,
Disfigured
with blood,
Deepest
fear within are unearthed,
By
these deadly monsters…
Yet,
Smallest flame of awareness is enough to kill,
These creations of the sweet child
within,
These tiny monsters made of paper…
कहते हैं शिष्टाचार है -
आपका भावुक होना बेकार है
अरे थोड़ा बहुत चलता है साहब -
यह तो सरकारी नौकर का अधिकार है।।
इसके
बगैर चल ही नहीं सकती राजनीति
इसको रोकने सफल ना होगी आपकी कोई रणनीति
सामाजिक जीवन का बन गया है यह अनिवार्य हिस्सा
इसके बगैर नहीं बढ़ता कहीं नस्तियों का क़िस्सा ।।
फिर
क्यूँ नहीं मानता मेरा यह दिल?
क्यूँ तिरंगे के सामने भावुक ना होना है मुश्किल?
लगता जैसे हो रहा मेरे तिरंगे का तिरस्कार
जाने किस मनहूस घड़ी में बन गया यह शिष्टाचार
इसके चलते जारी रहेगा कमजोर पे धनी का अत्याचार,
यह, आँख चुराते, कमजोर ज़मीर वालों का भ्रष्टाचार ।।
ऐ
नासमझ ज़रा खुद में देख
खेल खेल में कर रहा तू ख़ुद से भेद
पर्याप्त है तेरे परिवार के लिए सरकार का वेतन,
मौक़ा दे रहा कुछ कर गुज़रने का तुझे तेरा वतन,
यह मौक़ा है तेरे जीवन का सबसे अनमोल तौहफ़ा,
मत कर तू अपने पड़ोसी को देख, इस तिरंगे से धोखा ...
It’s the chaos I choose,
- the chaos that surrounds me …
It’s
the chaos I choose,
- the chaos that binds me …
It is
the chaos I choose,
- the chaos that is me …
(Penned, after the silence of amavasya in Isha ashram)
