किशमिश

समय के थपेड़ों में उलझी,

तन पे सजाए, निशान ये, सितम के - 

इस विशाल दुनिया में हो तुम छोटी सी,

अपनी भोली सी, थकान भरी, मुस्कान लिए - 

सूखे से कवच में खुद को लपेटी,

अंदर बैठी हो गुपचुप, मन में, मिठास भरे - 

रिश्तों के पकवान में हो समा जाती,

हर सलवट में, सहज, प्रेम भरे। 

अदबुद्ध हो, अदबुद्ध हो तुम सचमुच, मेरी किशमिश । ।     

तर्क का गहना

इस दिल की बनावट है हीरे सी, 

हर चेहरे में दिखता इसके - जीवन बहुरंगी । 

माला-सी ये नन्ही कविता मेरी,

इन भावनात्मक रंगों को - अपने शब्दों से पिरोती । 

पहनाती उनपे मेरे तर्क का गहना, 

और संगवारी से कर देती है बयां । 

यह कविताएं ही तो हैं - 

ये ही तो दे देती है - इस दिल को पनाह।  

जाने कब मैं इन शब्दों को पिरोने के काबिल बना !

जरा सोचो - यह काबिलियत ही तो है इंसान होना ।। 

कल से फिर

1.

कल फिर से,

इस दिन में,

सूरज ढलेगा।

कल फिर से,

इस घर में,

रोशनी बुझेगी।

कल फिर से,

इस दिल में सवाल उठेगा, 

फिर झूठी फ़िराक जगेगी।।

2. 

कल से फिर,

इस कमरे में,

एक फूल खिलेगा।

कल से फिर,

इस धरती पे, 

वो सूरज उगेगा।

कल से फिर,

ज़हन में चिराग जलेगा।  

और फिर, समर्पण की आग लगेगी ।।

टूट जाऊं

मन करता है

कि अब बस टूट जाऊं;

बिखर के,

टुकड़ों में,

बह जाऊं मैं,

आसुओं में...

 

मन करता है की,

अब बस टूट ही जाऊं;

बे-कारण ही सही,

बिन बहाने,

जीत के इस माहौल में,

अब छोड़ दूँ साहस मैं...

क्या है ये अजीब सी चाहत?

समझने की गलती है शायद-

इच्छा है टूटने की नहीं,

है यह मिट जाने की ललक,

अरे, शब्दों से खेलना छोड़ दो साहब,

दिखा भी दो मुझे मेरे शिव की झलक !

तुम्हारी हार जीत के है न कोई मायिने,

न वोह मिले मुझे, बिना खुद को मिटाए ...

 

इमारतों के आँसू

ख्वाहिश है आँसुओं की,
यह चाहत रो पड़ने की,
सम्बन्ध नहीं इनका सुख या दुःख से,
माध्यम हैं खुद को मिटा देने के...
 
मेरा दिल है जो टूटने से डरता है,
अपने झूठे अस्तित्व को संजोने वाला,
एक अंश है मेरा,
जो बिखरने से झिझकता है...
 
आज मैंने जो अपने महादेव को है पुकारा,
विनाश हो गया जो अपना माना था मैंने सारा,
टूट गयीं अहम की बनावटी इमारतें,
उनके टुकड़े भी मेरे आँसुओं में बह गए...
 
शम्भो  !

PS: It's a blessing to be able to cry in the presence of one's Guru. It releases one's karmic baggage and is probably the most transformational experience a seeker can ask for. 

Carpe Diem

You ask how would I be,

If this day were to be my last?

I would,

Keep nothing back,

Would have fuelled everything,

Given all of me in the blast of life...

 

I would,

Move past my feeble mind's, timid excuses,

Wouldn't trade for anything,

That which is truly Divine...

 

I would,

Protect the flame within me,

Protect the fire, that burns my mental shackles,

Allowing my surrender to the infinite Universe...

 

I would,

Drop these colours of the ego,

In the Ocean of life, so vast,

Effortlessly surfing, on the waves of daunting tasks...

PS - Being in touch with one's own mortality, is the biggest blessing one can ask for. 

पुकार

अकेला खड़ा हूँ मैं,
अनंत की सीमाओं को ताकते...
इन्हें लांघने की चाहत है मेरी,
आपके बिना ना हो सके ये पूरी...

क्यूँ आपको छोड़ आया हूँ,

मैं खुद पर न जाने कितना खफा हूँ...

इस शैतान को मैं मार डालूँ,

पर इन नादान बहानों से फिर से चूक जाऊं...

 

आ जाओ न मेरे संग आप फिर,

आपको कभी मैं भूल न पाऊं...

पर जब हो क्षण निर्णय का,

तब क्यूँ आपकी सीख को भुला देता हूँ ...

 

यह पुकार है इन सूखे आसुओं की,

चीख है इस प्यासे जीवन की...

मत रहो इतना आप दूर मुझसे,

ठीक करो मुझे,

सिखा दो खुद तक पहुँचने के रास्ते...

 

दो सीख मुझे इन रास्तों पर चलने की...

थोड़ी हिम्मत,

और थोड़ा साहस भी...

PS - To all those who have guided me in this life and those before. Especially remembering Rishi Nityapragya ji 

वही तो है ...

गहरे से गहरे गम का दुःख,

लोटपोट के हसने का सुख,

वही तो है...

 

फट के बिखर जाने की चाहत,

खुद में सिकुड़ जाने की आदत,

वही तो है...

अकेले में रह न पाने की फिकर,

समुन्द्र के शून्य में, हर डगर,

वही तो है ...

वही तो है | 

 

नशे में फिर डूब जाने की ललक,

खोजे हर घडी, जो शिव की झलक,

वही तो है...

 

गुप अँधेरे में खोने का डर,

उसकी चमक में मेरे नाच की लहर,

वही तो है...

महफ़िल में गुनगुनाने का मज़ा,

सानिध्य में अकेलेपन की सज़ा,

वही तो है...

तो क्या सोचता है मेरे दोस्त,

जरा दिल से मुस्कुरा तो दे मेरे दोस्त,

क्यूंकि –

इस बहके से रूठे दिल की,

मुस्कान  के पीछे का जादूगर,

वही तो है...

PS- Penned on a Poornima night at Beachside. With Music and Loved ones around. Lost in the trance of a sensitive heart and a relaxed body.

The Click and the Flip

Tyres of Mind and Body,
Running fast,
On this runway of life…

 

Rotating Duality of Life,

Karma burning,

At Cosmic speeds…

 

A moment has come,

Click! This is the moment to Flip.

Let go of the run,

Let the Flying begin.

Gracefully pull up the karmic load,

Consistently dissolve the self...

अँधेरे की आवाज़

सुनानी किसको है साहब,

अपनी इस बेसुरी आवाज़ को,

बस मन है की,

इस दिल में छुपे अँधेरे को आवाज़ दूँ...

 

किसी मंजिल के लिए नहीं,

हर दिन चलने की चाहत से करते हैं ...

किसी मतलब के लिए नहीं,

संगीत तोह हम मोहब्बत के लिए करते हैं ...

Sluts for Life.

Yes, life is awesome, yet very often its perplexing ups and downs feel like throbbing of wild fornication. The emotional resonance with a song reminds one of one's own life experience. One can't help but notice a poetic metaphor. There is a choice offered through life's ups and downs. Choice that pertains to the experience of life itself. One can experience the throbbing as someone being unwillingly torn-apart and raped. One can also experience them as an intense surrender and merging, a key to the super-consciousness. These sinusoidal ups and downs of life. No matter how huge, they are waves after all. I can choose to let them flood my senses and drown me in the ignorant darkness. Or I can seek the Shiva within and surf on this wave. Dancing.

PostScript: I could feel a groove inside me. Dying to come out. I just started playing it. Didn't care much on its origin. A few days later, it was the Awaari song, sung by the same intense feminine voice of Momina as Nawazishein Karam. It's been on loop ever since - accompanying me through the piercing of both body and mind.

आशीर्वाद

यह परीक्षा है या है और कोई बात,
समय जाते ही कुछ रहता नहीं याद,

सिर्फ बदन का दर्द और मन की थकान,
करती है दिन की कहानी बयाँ !
 
याद आती है आपकी चेतावनी,
साधक के रास्ते हैं तुफान कई,
कचरे के मोल हैं यह मेरे सूखे आसूं,
मेरे अस्तित्व को मिटा दे मेरे गुरु !
 
मत कर मेरी चिंता, न रख कोई बंधन,
कर दे उपयोग तू सभी तेरे साधन,
इस नासमझ को बस कर दे तू आबाद,
हर चोट इस अहम पर है तेरा आशीर्वाद !

Blacks and Greens.

I don't remember clearly when it had begun or why did it start? There was no one single moment of strong urge or temptation that shook my foundations. There wasn't even a clear cut day that I can trace it all down to.  There were some tumultuous moments like when friends got rightfully angry. But then, a lot of water has flown through the Indravati since.  

There is actually no larger-than-life, profound reason for me to continue this compulsion. There is no profoundness rather anywhere in this entire scheme of things. I am often challenged by otherwise scary imaginary feelings of breathlessness. Ironically, I write this while sitting in an airborne plane - the origin of it all.   Showing the little significance that psychological imaginations of the past hold today.  

Something is happening though - I felt a greater depth in the sea this time around when I started swimming. It didn't feel like a plunge pool where my chaotic bodily movements are enough to shake up everything. It feels like an oceanic body of profound couldn't - care - less - ness that characterises the depth of experiential existence.

A part of me is asking for the chaos. It asks for confusion and clutter. Deriving sadistic pleasure out of the numerous psychological battles fought on my mental ground. There's only one casualty of these power struggles between my schizophrenic selves - My Self Confidence . I, very subtly, gradually and steadily start subscribing to submissive thoughts. The vibe of compromise and settling for the fat.

So what is it? An accidental nightmare that I am living out in my matrix, or a concerted effort to intentionally create chaos. Chaos that shakes my very psychological foundations. Pushes me to look for the real core value system that feeds and nourishes me. Because a lot of times, knowing is the goal.

Coming back to my point, whatever this is - it clearly demands (rather urgently and strongly) my conscious attempt to boost my self - confidence. It is like the metallic armour around the "right" mindset. Built through affirmations and visualisations - it gives me a sense of security.

Maybe it is not the matter of creating and lugging around battle ready armour coats. Maybe it is the time to look through the futility of all clothes that life has to offer. And understand them for just what they are. Just pieces of clothes...

Maybe it is time to tune into my basic ability of designing and sewing my clothes. The "right" ones, that address the need of the hour - the requirements of the people/situations and functions.

The ability to do absolutely whatever I want. Without weighing in the numerous, oft-contradictory thought patterns. The clutter of imagined importance.

This reminds me of my quests to look into the mirror, especially after the first few days of the black and the green. They were attempts to find the right cloth and design for the most appropriate wear in the need of the hour.

As someone smart would have definitely said at some point of time -

"Sometimes the real offering is hidden in plain sight. One just needs to inch closely at the foliage to understand the voice of the living forest. Hear the words it mutters in your ears. The woods are not just meant to confuse you - they are clearing the path for something more meaningful. They punctuate the path to the meadows. The path that is lit up by the bright sun of awareness. One should cherish these woods as divine offerings as they give him company."

As you said yourself - there is nothing profound - it is all shit. Some shit is more useful than the rest. Play along.

Silence.

Something that was penned down after a 3 days of silence experience in Isha ashram. It seemed like 3 snaps of fingers. The 3 minutes' overtaking of worldly chaos may have shattered it from outside. Yet something profound remains inside - something concrete and solid. Something that keeps expanding and at times, envelopes me fully. Often, enveloping the whole world I know.  

Darkness is the absence of light.

Silence is the absence of noise.

In words, silence cannot be described.

This silence is so profound in its own right.

 

Thoughts are needed to paint the picture of thoughtless void.

Darkness cannot be described without mentioning light, 

All the thoughts are meaningless,

It's only this silence that matters…

 

Yet an attempt,

To capture, what transpired in silence,

Fearing, it might lose out in the chaos,

Chaos - of within and without…

 

 

If you take more karmic load now, when you are well and capable, later you will walk “hands - free”! – Sadhguru

Those who are into intense yogic sadhana often choose to take on an extra stock of karma on a new - moon day.

Pit Stops - Engineering Chaos

I see myself as a complex system of fluidic realities. There exists a multitude of identities, yet a certain sense of system within the chaos persists. I see myself as a carriage moving ahead in the jungle of complex worldly realities. The two wheels of the carriage are my mind and body while my sense of Awareness (the big "I") is the third element which sits on the driver's seat.

The whole carriage moves in sync,  sportingly exchanging friendly gestures with each other.  It joyfully moves forward in the bubble of divine grace surrounding them. Tackling worldly challenges creatively while running at an extraordinary pace on the well laid out path of self development. These are the moments when we get lost in the bliss of performance - things going exactly, or even better than the way we had visualised it. These are not the best times to grow and upgrade the machinery - these are times to just enjoy the rapid movement of a beautiful machine.

But then comes times when the whole machinery is distraught with coordination issues - nobody is listening to anyone else. The body and mind taking competitive turns to define the path and the driver is lost. Lost, either in deep sleep or fighting a losing gun exchange with its own once-dear friends. These are the moments of potential growth. When there is chaos in the machine, it is the best time to open it up and lay bare all the various parts clearly and define the way it will function.

The ability to do that what is necessary is within me, undisturbed and potent. I just have to allow my awareness to take charge. The awareness that I am neither the body nor the mind is enough to allow things to fall back on course. It is also enough to allow the upgrade of the entire operating system of the carriage. So that it goes back on the track with renewed vigour and sense of purpose. These moments of chaos are as important as are the pitstops for Formula One machines. 

Meanwhile, one should never lose consciousness of the noisy whisper of Life that surrounds - Surf On!

Surfing with my Shiva

He is here -

Unbelievable, yet so clear…

Adorning this arm -

He is here on His board,

Surfing the living Seas -

While dancing in a flow,

 

Oh Shiva!

Am feeling blessed by Your loving touch,

You destroy me and make me Whole…

Devi - my Divine Mother

Here's an assembly of words to expose a brief glimpse of the journey from the snapshot of BITS - Pilani - in front of Maa Saraswati temple - as a driven yet confused teenage boy - and then 16 years later in front of Linga Bhairavi idol at Isha - as a clearer yet excuse-making saadhak. 

She took me in Her arms then,

Just one among the thousands of young men.

 

Giving direction to the intense upsurge of energy within,

Making the boundaries of one's capabilities thin.

 

Dissolved utterly in Her loving embrace was I,

There was nowhere else to go, nothing low or high.

 

With unreasonable madness and the passionate grit,

In front of Her shining white stone form did I sit.

 

Words and judgements mattered less and less,

Giving hard time to myself but knowing that I was blessed.

 

I sit here today, yet again, in front of Her another form,

Bowing to my Mother while feeling that I am being re-born.

 

Didn’t realize how these sixteen years flew by,

A district collector was borne out of our little boy.

 

Ridden with guilt, evasion and all shades of emotions,

Ready to face the stormiest of life's commotions.

 

Maa,

Hardly anything has changed since we last met,

Posts and honours of this world are not to be fret.

 

The boy is the same with shades of emotions intact,

With his mad devotion and the passionate grit to act.

 

Have been often fooled to believe that I am on my own,

Don’t know how to thank You for being there all along…