I did not see,
My Lord.

Why?

Because of Sun.

I am a Paddler
Who has no
Canoe, or oar,
Or even a
River to cross.

To keep the darkness out,
I must keep my eyes shut

To receive light,
I must leave my eyes opened.

Don’t erase the picture
You may feel like drawing it
Again, and again

Don’t draw the picture
You may feel like erasing it
Again, and again

Just keep watching,
Then you will see that
There was never a picture.

The honored author
Of some of these books!
Why the erudite Pundit,
Burn this huge mountain of books

I sopped up all these books;
So, they filled up my head
And voided my mind;
If you so like
All these books are yours.

If they emptied you, Sir,
What use they are to me then?

No, my dear young lad
Fill up your head with the books
And scribe your own books too
Only then you can really see
The emptiness of books

On the river bank,
Taking cover
Behind the thick fog,
You keep walking.

Nearby,
I keep waiting
Until Sun rises
Higher

Will the fog have
Eloped with you?

Our gift
Our torments

Our fortune
Our predicament

Our joy
Our agony

Our Mind!

In the midst of the thickest forest
On the top of the highest mountain
In the darkest, loneliest tiny cave,
I reside.

The sun is bright in the midday sky
But its brightness is no match
To the darkness living in the cave
Ferocious loneliness of the forest
Subordinates the loneliness of the cave

I reside in the cave
I reside nowhere

I am bound by the cave
So, I can go nowhere

I am freed by the cave
So, I can roam everywhere

Here, I am
Here, I am not

A heavenly fragrance
Smelt while in a coma,

An exquisite place
Seen in a hallucination,

A profundity
Grasped in a cognitive void

Enchanting memories
Gained in an imaginary world:

You!

Your laughs

Sing songs in my heart

Your sighs
Whirl storms in my heart

Your silence
Plays operas with my tears (1981)

In the temples we built in our parallel hearts
Furthest away in two inverse Universes
With zillions of blackholes and white-holes
With no wormholes or radiant light rays,

On the altars, reside our muted tenderness (2020)

The Sky:

The rental home
For the stars
In night times;

In day times,
For the Sun

My Retina:

A camera  
For their cosmic dance

My Mind:
The playhouse

Even the most
Beautiful butterfly
Has a caterpillar past

I did not see,
My Lord.

Why?

Because of Sun.

I did not cry at all

And
I did not tell Anybody that
I was not crying

We all have,
All we have,
We all are:

Just memories.

Being on the rock
That stands in the river,
When I look down
I see the river.

The river is me.

Then I see
My reflection
Quivering on the water.

It is the river

A fake!

The sky-moon
Called the lake-moon

To prove it
The sky-moon hid
Behind the clouds

When it came back
Triumphantly,

The lake-moon asked
Hey, sky-guy,
What happened to you
When I hid behind
The lake-clouds

A drop of dust
Under my own feet;
Me!

A mountain
Borne by it:
Me!

The beehive of
Stings and honey,
In my heart:

You!

A flower’s
Petals

Our
Smiles

My
Sighs

Same
Fate

In the wilderness
Of mountains
I barked at Nature,

Why calamity
Not just beauty?

Nature
Barked back at me,
Why me?

Oh, my dear Lord, Hermit
I came to see you
In search of wisdom

Oh, my dear confused one
I came to the thick of the Forest
Because I despise wisdom and all that

A fake!

The sky-moon
Called the lake-moon

To prove it
The sky-moon hid
Behind the clouds

When it came back
Triumphantly,

The lake-moon asked
Hey, sky-guy,
What happened to you
When I hid behind
The lake-clouds

A piano
On your mind-fingertips:

My heart.

A canvas
To my heart-paint brush:

Your mind.

Waiting
For a drop of Sun
To float in: me

Waiting
For the window
To be opened: Sun

You floated into my heart
Like a cool tiny breeze

Then you moved in my heart
Like a cool tiny breeze

When you left my heart
Still like a tiny little breeze
It took my heart by a storm.

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Palanquin
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wheels  
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wheels  
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Automobile
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