Who Knocked?

Life moved.
I grew,
And I grew tall.

Neglecting routine reserves,
Thinking they were all mine.

Things that were once free,
Soon came priced.

The inhale of fresh oxygen,
Now, layered with a nosy mask.

The solitude of lush greens,
Patrolled by guarded cops.

The zest of barefoot run,
Lie inside an online yoga room.

The silence of holy shrine,
Deliver home-made prayers.

The crisp of morning newsprint,
Surface a lifeless touchscreen.

The joy of hand-picked dailies,
Shrink-wrap in a market app.

The sizzle of hot popcorn in cinema,
Couch on indoor live streaming.

The thrill of real santoor,
Play on headphones in playlists.

The ghazal of Jagjit,
Ripples nostalgia in whisky.

The fine dining impression,
Sit at home-made dinner tables.

The roar of 3.00 am friends,
Mute with Zoom call Hi’s…

The promise of our well-being,
Commit insurance in covid covers.

The retire of one’s sweat,
Trend live stories on instagram.

The peace of mindful sleep,
Hover with what’s for tomorrow.

The warmth of love,
Is touched with woody silence.

What happened… Who knocked?

It only said,
I give… I retaliate…

Absences with absence.
Affection with affection.
Friendship with friendship.
Loyalty with loyalty.
No more one sided feelings.
Feelings must be mutual.
Respect my being.
And I respect you.

I am Nature.

Rendezvous with Black

What happens…
When clouds of gloom engulf you.

What happens…
When you lose road to dark bushes.

What happens…
When you realize your eyes see ‘black.’

Puzzled vibes. Sorts of intrigue. Much suspense and a handful of drama.

Meet Black – The significant.
Its the ultimate vibrant hue around us. Our basic habitat in which we live most of the time. On general terms black is perceived as the opaque layer of life, which avoids contact with light. But, have you ever pondered Black itself is light?

Rare, but true.

How?
‘Blank’ can be white. But ‘Black out’ is black. The phase of black out then meets the phase of blank creating rays of unseen light to seep inside and search new paradigms.
Close your eyes. Shut your mind. Now you belong to the dark room. Allow the inner conscience to awaken and speak. Lets, first clear all stir and empty the soul. You will find the purest aura of radiant black throwing positive energy around to transcend in different plateaus. The naked black allows you to connect with your inner self and transform you to a higher level of yourself, which then seemed unknown. Black gives fresh air to outgrow from your current bubbles and breathe a different you. Its yogic in form and immerses you in immense tranquility. The mind beckons peace. Stunning thoughts once again pour fresh blood into the stream. New dimensions, untraveled paths, youthful strength and goodness of life – become the focal points. It’s healing. Well, its black.

Now, who am I?
I am mindful.
And self aware.

I am stunning.
Still elegant.

I am reviving.
And evoke style.

I wear attitude.
And look sexy.

I am distinctive.
Still sophisticated.

I am fluid.
And seamless.

I am deep.
To absorb pessimism.

I command power.
And augment celebration.

I chose ‘Black.’ 

Black opens the mind’s eye. It teaches to visualize who and where I want to be. It gives undying faith to all beliefs. It envisions the road of what I want to journey on. I didn’t lose road in woods. I discovered the road less travelled. Black – the spot, which I took to be a dark stain, actually turned out to be the tint of new hope and new beginnings.

Black is eternal.
You rise from the dust and you go back to the dust. Man is created from ashes to merge back into the same ashes. When life ends, the soul meets the eternal black. The gulf of universal cosmos absorbs and dissolves it in a wide blanket of black. Black is thus soluble. It dissolves. It floats. Still, Black stays. Once again it is re-born to the chakra of karma. Black is non-perishable.

 

Blank Canvas

In you I see,
A million stories.
Some to capture,
Some to release.

Lets release,
Dry empty eyes.
Cocooned shells.
Little nothingness.
Hollow space shacks.
Suspended opinions.
And, some aimless desires.

Together lets capture,
White spaces.
Reigning designs.
Thinking pads.
Creative kick starts.
Endless possibilities.
New opportunities.
Focused goalposts.
Black dots.
And, seamless patterns.

Blank Canvas,
I say…
Is nothing.
But a perception.
Of shallow thoughts,
And captive ideas.

Usool – The Principle!

Usool bade bedhangi hai,
Na hai uski jaat.
Kaise kahe badi woh baat,
Kya tum jaano uski kitni aukaat?

Usool bade bedhangi hai,
Kitne lagaye anginat rok.
Mohallon se woh aise guzre,
Apni dagar woh likhte chale.

Usool bade bedhangi hai,
Bin taal ke taan chedte rahe.
Par taalim se jude bane,
Yahan, wahan suron ke saaz lagate gaye.

Usool bade bedhangi hai,
Sanaton mein siskiyaan rote hue.
Toofan ka sanket dete gaye.
Jhujte rahe… par jeet ki kashti paar karte gaye.

Usool bade bedhangi hai,
Mukam ki dorr kheechte hue.
Raah mein faasle badhate chale,
Manzil yunhi fateh paati rahe.

Usool bade bedhangi hai,
Unhe banaye kisne?
Mann ka sawaal bana usool,
Raaz mein jawab de gaya usool.

Oye yaaron…Thoda samjho inhe,
Usool bade bedhangi hai!

 

 

 

Say a Little Prayer! A compelling read.

 

Om shanti…
Om shanti…
Om.
Chant. Recite. Scream.
Scream Loud.

Hello, anyone in there?
Can you hear me?
Its me. Hellos…

Ever wondered does God hear us? Do our prayers reach him? Since childhood our deep-rooted cultures taught us to pray. Prayers upon the first rise, prayers for the first morsel, prayers before bed. Prayers say it all.

‘Prayers’ – the tiny messengers to God.

From my kidding days to greying today, I’ve mastered my prayers thoroughly. As time grew my mental maths got much weaker but my prayers grew larger and stronger. Unshakable pillars engraved inside me, I guess.

 Truly undisputed. Aren’t they?

What is a Prayer?
It often makes me ponder. On a simplified note I’d rather say its my heartfelt convo with my 3.00 am buddy – God. Also it could be some kinda group talkathon which reels loud mantras and shlokas in bold chants. Is it a propaganda too of the societal rights and the wrongs we follow. Can prayer be ‘The spiritual habitat?’

Can a prayer compel me to look deep within and know the real me?

Prayer with Technology
Today, everything comes at our comfort lap. We need not seek hibernation in Himalayas and meditate with penance for days and months to reach out to God. Google Apps saved us. Our lives are much sorted. Technology helps us bridge the gap. Prayer is more of an User experience (UX) today. With the flexibility in its nature it offers an adaptable interface. One can program it and re-program it much to his/her suitable needs. All it takes is a simple tweet with a send button no matter where you are. The scores pomp a million views with a thousand likes on your desktop. I’m sure it has reached the palmtop of God too and now your prayer ought to be answered in a quickie.

 Are we nurturing a generation of mockery to follow the wisdom of Ai rather than the power of our own heartfelt?

I am stalking God
I follow God everywhere. Why? Because I fear. My fear is gripped tight underneath my heels and takes me places far and near. The dilemma of ‘What ifs’ is a choco-block in my head. Am I inviting some bad episode? Its like a game. One rule missed and the bad omen gets a ‘life’. The fear allows me to trade with God. Commerce is in my DNA. Bargains and exchanges become the primary oaths of my prayer.

 Am I challenging the very being of God and the immortal strength in prayers?

I am an Atheist
I don’t pray. I don’t believe in it. I don’t know its type. The non-prayer is my real type – my true religion. That’s my pattern. Prayer ain’t in captivity but in liberation. Prayer lies in a simple connect with the nature. The painter is an atheist. He hyms a prayer with his abstract. He worships the hues of his palette. His picture paints beautiful dots with God. The writer is an atheist. His pen conveys volumes of meaningful and desired conversations with God. The yogi is an atheist. His meditation is a path of zen to God. The warrior is an atheist. Courage is his release. And the strength to knock life back in its boots is his sole path to God.

To me prayer is what I send as a signal wave in nature and in return mother nature gifts it back to me. Prayer is in chaos and love, both. Its in a gentle smile, a warm hug and a cheeky peck of simple love. It’s a loud unheard voice of my inner silence. It’s the small humdrum of my soulspeak. Prayer is the faith of my will. It’s a discipline that I strictly follow obey its rules by heart. Its in the sublime power to submit to the light of my inner self and come in unison with the outer cosmos. Prayer is to heal me with my rights and wrongs of life. I call it my safety belt – my very own being.

I ring a prayer everyday. Do you?

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