The dark-hearted torch-bearer

 

Sometimes misery sneaks into

such a secretive corner in us

that even we can’t see it,

And thinking it to be gone,

we take a torch

and go seeking happiness outside,

But we fail,

Wherever we arrive

with our tiny puddle of light,

darkness jumps one step ahead,

keeping happiness at bay,

It’ll remain so

because we carry

that bubble of misery inside us

and try to light the outside world.

 

Go within,

Look inwards,

Hunt that hiding darkness;

that hidden corner,

The moment

the light of your awareness

falls on it,

it vanishes,

Darkness bows out,

Then you needn’t run around

to annihilate the gloom.

Gold

 

The weighing scale doesn’t differentiate

between gold and iron,

But the human heart does,

In the human heart

a gram of gold is worth

thousands of green trees,

It’s more valuable than

even many other human hearts,

The trees can be cut,

Trust broken,

Air polluted,

Earth poisoned,

And souls singed,

All this can be done

to uphold the value of gold;

to maintain its ruling crown;

its authority and superiority

over life, love and smile.

Effortless win

 

A screw-shaped swirl of life

taking you in its eddying grip,

The tourbillion pool of adversities,

The maelstrom ring of trap

in the stream of your life,

The ghoulish outfall,

The mouth of misery

pouting to chuck you up,

The overpowering vortex of uncontrollable

taking you in its whirlpool.

 

Fight it on the surface

and it’ll eat your energies,

Swaying, splashing you

as you try to stay afloat,

It gets a sadistic pleasure

watching you tossed like  

a twig on its eddying surface,

Don’t allow yourself to be

kicked like a ball on the surface,

Cooperate with its

screwing drill into its innards,

Dive without resistance,

Its own fury is its undoing,

You go into its guts,

Your acceptance and faith

it can’t digest,

Your unresisting flow

eats its stomach,

Then it spews you out

of its pointed base in the depths,

You are delivered

with your energies intact.

 

Pain and its gain

 

Charred , shredded, scattered

pieces of love,

The heart would always retain them

and discard them not,

even if they cut and lacerate,

Because even though broken,

they still reflect its soul,

Like Phoenix they will flower,

The raging fires of hate,

anger and fears will scorch them,

But the crop of love

will rise from the ashes.

 

A heart would be no heart

if not for its essential core—love,

The latter might be broken

and shredded to pieces,

But it’ll triumph

and rise from fury and fire

to smile with refreshed ‘love’.  

Walking in a dark cave

 

There are times when

your heart gets shrunk,

wrung dry

and dejuiced by pain.

It becomes small

and darkness swallows it.

Accept it.

Fight it

and darkness becomes a demon.

Accept it.

Allow it to squeeze you more.

All this breaking

is in fact making,

It will push you

to the breaking limit,

You have to stop it

just a step before that

with your faith in life,

It’ll hold you in its womb,--

in that creative pitch black cocoon,

And deliver you,

Open you again

to life, light and love.

Changing seasons

 

In the icy cold,

the frozen seed of pain,

waiting for the spring thaw,

warmer days, brighter sun.

 

It then blooms into love,--

a dewy fresh blossom

on a new day.

 

We live our life

like changing seasons:

spring’s youthful love  blossoms;

summer’s hot sweating passion;

autumnal shedding and surrender

to the inevitable;

lying frozen

buried under icy layers of pain;

to bloom in spring again.

Defrosting

 

The wintertime frozen dream-self

now warms up to be an awake-self,

The icy clods melt and trickle of life starts,

Aha, sizzling bright February sun

going like a knife through the cold wind,--

an interplay of fire and ice,

Spring flowers taking birth under dew-showers,

Soul brimming with joy

under clear blue sky,

Life triumphant to come abloom

after death came within an inch of life.