"ashram" poems
In his dreams the Vally in the throes of efflorescence call out
in a language heart alone understands;
from the hanging bridge over Ganga, he views the ice-capped peaks,
Vally's ***** extravagance and the river's turbulence.
The river runs too deep, at times he finds,
the currents treacherously strong,
from the window of his *Ashram, the view is clear.
She bathes naked, alone on a step submerged in water,
eyes feast on her moonlit curves,
the pleasures skin deep, camouflage the existential dilemmas ! he smiles
In memory his Guru speaks:"Eat only those fruits that make one immortal"
Yet another Himalayan journey in search of the fruit tree unknown
It's too late to redefine, life and love when the avalanche thunders above
on his lonesome path, every step uphill is fraught with slippery stones,
one way leads to the top, to bathe in the light of the star reaching down
Some days end in too long nights, too cold, the sun shows up hesitant,
her body has the warmth that reaches to his icy depths,
a ****** alone could penetrate, but it still wouldn't melt
Himalayan silence, chant of Ganga, the ghost of a ******
that follows him like a faithful dog, are all these fragments of a dream
or realities stringed together from many different planes?
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
Saw women
Waiting at the bus stop
Heard the new cinema song
From the advertising vehicle
Asked the stranger sitting near me
Whether he was not going to Potta ashram
In conductor’s seat
Slumbers a traveler without a ticket (stowaway)
Under the label of defence forces,
Two school children
On the Ladies’ seat,
Padre from the local church
“The lady who brings this card is an orphan
Her family was lost in floods
She is the only one for herself and her child
A blue card fell in my lap.
How did I become blind?
Beating time on the stomach,
A Tamil song stretched its arm
Became deaf
A girl became mute
“do you remember this face?”
Sat on the seat for handicapped
With a sense of belonging and righteousness.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:48 AM UTC
Saw women
Waiting at the bus stop
Heard the new cinema song
From the advertising vehicle
Asked the stranger sitting near me
Whether he was not going to Pota ashram
In conductor’s seat
Slumbers a traveler without a ticket
Under the label of defense forces,
Two school children
On the Ladies’ seat,
Padre from the local church
“The lady who brings this card is an orphan
Her family was lost in floods
She is the only one for herself and her child
A blue card fell in my lap.
How did I become blind?
Beating time on the stomach,
A Tamil song stretched its arm
Became deaf
A girl became mute
“do you remember this face?”
Sat on the seat for handicapped
With a sense of belonging and righteousness.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:05 AM UTC
David flew into my bedroom
light blue eyes flashing excitement
"Sonya ki," he gushed
"We are now the proud parents
of a newborn baby pineapple!"
For two years David fathered
and diligently nurtured the
pineapple cutting from
the Yoga ashram
Cooing, lullabying,
coaxing, fertilizing
I threw on my sandals
and dashed into the
bucolic nursery
There peeking up at us
it's amber pink body
swaddled in spiky
leaves
was our own little
darling pineapple
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
We hurl coconuts to the ground
circumambulate the Shiva Lingam shrine
at the Yoga Shakti Ma Ashram
my grandsons little Sean and Alex
tug the temple bell after each round
ringing in the New Year
above, the moon full, white candle
glows
in Shiva’s dreadful locks
and cobras looped around
His sapphire neck dare not hiss
Auspicious One!
drink the halahala poison of hatred, anger,
lust, jealousy and pride lodged
like an arrow deep in our hearts
churn the ocean of nectar
and awaken the
sleeping Self
cradled softly in a manger
swaddled, peacefully
within
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
Like those green hills
in an undaunted meditative silence
in front of the house
i was brought up
my secrets are pretty open,
i am still a gun with full of bullets
if i spill the beans
i'll be compromised, some one pointed out
so what?
yes, i did fornicate a bit
most unforgettable one
was with an intellectual type
under the 'wisdom tree'
highlighted as a tourist attraction
in the municipal park,
on a full moon day,
that was a condition she put,
i found no problem to agree.
this was the time when we were wild
smoked joints, did theater,
and went about aimlessly
but read a lot, as if our lives
would come to a grinding
halt the very next day;
so we had to finish all that.
it was as if we are mad.
Oh! not to forget the Ashram
over looking a lake
where one learned few things
on life and other matters of interest,
how can i forget the fiery poet,
who got there to get
enlightened if possible in a week
we slept and created a lovely scandal
(you should forgive me for all that,
quite coincidental, not at all intentional)
noted in my diary thus--
'poets are no less hot than other mortals'
Once in drunken stupor
i went to swim in the lake across the Ashram
with full of crocodiles that relished
eating people's limbs
not all, but one at a time,
the girl who found me floating
inviting attention of crocs
dragged me out, took me to her room
in the Ashram, and at that night
she said:"how romantic!
let's go to bed together
your punch drunk meat
would have been eaten
by crocs by now..so celebrate"
she was so much better than crocodiles
in heat, left me in a state of dazzle
Yes now it can be told; one of my secrets is this
I believe in eclectic wisdom,
as ephemeral life has
wisdom alone offers salvation.
i have no great secrets,
no Swiss bank accounts,
affairs with enchanting courtesans
in any Maharaja's court.
The last and only Maharaja i met face to face
had retired long back
and during my interview with him
addressed me "Sir"
how could one tell a Maharaja
though he is a paper tiger that
one is averse to colonial manners!
About certain secrets to be unearthed:
I will recount this in a later date.
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 6:45 AM UTC
SILENCE
(Bijoylakshmi Das)
Silence is the Best
Silence is sublime
Silence is Vast;
Silence is all-transcending -
Beyond mortal acts.
It too is profound,
Makes us spell-bound,
Even though unexpressed
Reveals the Supreme Blessed!
It is the One unique existence
In its inane solitude -
Sends message of greater depth,
From Soul even when Being is asleep
Beyond Space and Time,
Cause and Effect ;
Wins the heart of Godhead
In her sweet soft golden glance! !
Silence is the celestial bridge
Joins the amazing heights
To Earth's forsaken soil,
And her attempted flights,
To reach the Unknown height
Of the underlying Godhead.
All vain desires and toil of the Brown
Meet Decadence -
Along with Ego's sky-touching crown
Man's arrogance and ambitions
And his derision of self-asserted pride,
To make Nature serve to his indomitable will,
And insatiable greed!
It never succeeds!
Inner silence is lost
As it served as the Golden Bridge
To meet the Supreme Will!
Which in each moment sees,
Our every act even if we hide;
His eternal Gaze -
Writes on Silence's page.
We humans create chaos -
Everywhere around us
To devastate the inner harmony.
Blind and deaf to mankind!
We have lost silence of our inmost mind!!!
Silence communicates the best,
Transfigures the language of the Lord,
In Nature's heiroglyphics
And Her innumerable ways.
Like when Dawn descends upon Earth
Heralding the joyful birth -
Of a vernal Creation
Awaiting to meet Humanity in the higher illumination!
The Soul's awakening -
Where only Silence reigns.
Dialect fails,
Speech loses semblance
Silence deciphers Creation:s unending rhyme.
Repeats in ceaseless Harmony!
We are born in Silence,
And to that Sole-existent Silence -
All have to go
By our Ego's transcendence!
Life's journey brief,
Ends in silence deep.
In Silence we must live,
And to it we must give -
Our listening ears in Knowledge's
Revelatory ascent!
We must make our life the greatest success -
In Supreme's Blissful Art!
(Bijoylakshmi Das, Anand Utsav Ashram,
Haridwar. 31.05.2019)
Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 2:35 AM UTC
I do believe my days withing these
Concrete ashram walls are
Coming to an end.
It might be a slow ending, but
It'll be a good one.
It began the day I saw the
Beautiful truth behind the ugly
Mask of everyday insignificance.
Beauty and meaning;
Soft hand in a mild one.
Water strength.
Cement frailty.
Thoughts are like air; find their
Way from A to another
A.
Looking at my friend fitting
A door, cursing at the promise of
Adjustments,
Or enjoying the way the Project Manager
Leaves us never knowing whether
He's joking or not with a face
As cold as his project's foundations.
I fall in love with Life every day.
Even when I hate it.
I've learned that I never stop learning.
I'll be a slightly different man tomorrow,
Yet still myself.
Always still myself.
There is wisdom in flexibility; the
Holding on to nothing,
Even ones definition of oneself.
I was a construction worker.
Now, I'm a
Construction worker.
I take comfort in the fact
That the only comfort I'll
Ever really need, is the
One I give
Myself.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 3:38 PM UTC
I would see words forged into action
by these hands of broken memory,
memory that still haunts the darkest nights.
The barren tongue of sparse reaction
concealed in cocoons of silenced delight
decorated in jeopardy and lethargy.
The ramblings of an assumed madman
spent wandering these unforgotten years
comforted only by the monastic echoes of ashram
left to deliver his final illuminated message
unto the radiance of waiting ears.
The days have been long,
hastened by the majesty of moonlight
perishing in cirrus cloud formation.
Like the nightmares of crippled machination
and sheathed divinity more man than hallow.
Caressed by warmth of the morning sun
and in it a song for every fleeting shadow.
And this was the message:
Like all beautiful things:
We.
Must.
Fade.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
It's a beautiful day
I've been wasting away.
Sitting in silence,
All thoughts are astray.
I think to myself of the time I have lost.
I think of great things and how much they will cost.
And how can it be the body can't afford?
The things that my soul will try to adore.
It's all time and money. These things I don't have.
When I'm dead and rotting I'm sure I'll be glad.
When space-time is time-space and nothing exists.
Even though it's all there and my thoughts will persist.
Then I won't worry of the waste I've become.
There won't be emotion inside the ashram.
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 5:58 PM UTC
Il arrive que parfois le feu comme la glace
Fonde et qu'en nous des icebergs
Brûlent.
Il arrive que parfois des volcans sous-marins
Emergent un beau dimanche
Et que de leurs chapelets soudain incandescents
Jaillisse entre feux d'artifice de lave et de canne métissées
Du fin fond du cratère
La grand-messe liquide et démentielle
De la Vierge diablesse Mina
Prima inter pares
Toute forêt de corail noir et gorgones
Ni déesse ni maîtresse
Juste muse granivore aux mille tresses gourmandes
Perchée dans son ashram de coco sans graine tridimensionnel
Qui ne jure que par Jung, Bakounine, Anaïs Nin et autres yogi plongeurs
Dans la posture du demi lotus
En équilibre sur les orteils de l'âme.
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 9:10 AM UTC
There is always beauty in loneliness coz you start traveling
inside. People go to ashram to listen discourse to learn the
meaning of life. The final message delivered was to travel
inside. There are different type of loneliness. One is feeling
lonely, when you are waiting for your partner; second was
a soldier waiting at the border expecting an enemy; third a
sage waiting for an enlightenment; fourth a patient with
incurable diseases; fifth was when you attain old age,
even when you surrounded by children and grandchildren;
Six was poet waiting for an idea to describe an event or the
pain of separation of his girlfriend; Seven was the celebrity
where he was surrounded by people, not to be by himself;
eight an accused, waiting for a death sentence. and finally
when you travel to take up a new job or new place.
Loneliness was a beautiful feeling to think about yourself
with the factor. The more lonely you are, the more you learn
about the factor affecting you and help to understand the
factor. I have seen in history, lonely people always moved to
prove something, the whole development of this world in term
of invention and discovery born out of loneliness coz the search
of escape from loneliness has proved great to this world.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
THE PLENITUDE OF SPLENDOUR
(Re-edited)
The breath in the air,
The whisper in the breeze,
The whistle of the nightingale;
All pleasant surprise!
The sky bares the *****
For the mirth of the seas;
Raptures rapt around
in Morn’s miraculous release.
The rustles in the leaves,
The murmur in the brook,
The Love in the zephyr –
At the new Blossoms’ bashful look,
Make waves kiss the shore;
The Ocean dances with joy;
The message of the Beloved rings in the woodland far away.
The spirit of the Soul listens to the invisible call.
The song of the Silence
Is writ in the clay,
Im desolate and forlorn left on Night’s eerie solitude far away..
The twinkle of the stars
Speaks of the immensity vast;
The silvery white Moon unveils an amazing forecast.
The clouds over the hills
Heralds hours of Bliss infinite:
The flutter of the wings
Of the birds at the sight
Bring tidings from the Realm Recondite.
Creation is vast, beautiful for the Godhead to alight.
Time’s torrential outcome
Human mind fails to count;
The one sole-existent Entity
Keeps track of all account.
The twilight splendour
That our eyes encounter
To vibrate in its Harmony
Without the least fear;
Make it your Goal.
You are the exalted Ecstasy –
Rapture’s well-chosen envoy,
All the rest goes to the revolving wheel to be crushed
You are the exalted Ecstasy :
Rapture's well-chosen envoy,
All the rest goes to the revolving wheel to be crushed asunder at His One behest.
Go deep within from the turmoil of the shore,
Keep your door open for the Heaven's elixir to knock at your door.
(Bijoylakshmi Das, Anand Utsav Ashram, Haridwar. 4th October 2019)
Dec 2, 2021
Dec 2, 2021 at 3:53 AM UTC
An employee of
mine took Voluntary
retirement to became
a 'Sage'.
After 5 years
he turn up to his ashram
So, I went and met him.
I advised, why he have to
suffer like this… what
different it made
becoming a sage.
He replied, " Before I
came to see you.
Now, you come to
to see me."
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC
THE WONDERLUST(48)
(Bijoylakshmi Das)
The world is far away from me with azure touch of the sky,
No earthly turmoil, but amazing splendour far and nigh,
The beauty of the timeless Vast, the Green humming with Delight,
To that remote realm I want to soar in my amorous flight.
The plash of the fountains, the soothing murmur in the brook,
The close-clinging touch of Love's sweet lips and the bashful look,
Are ever vibrant in air around robed in aureate hue,.
The glad smile of the cherished eyes to begin the life anew.
The Heaven's surprise in the spilth of an ecstatic beatitude,
Makes me more mirthful in life's wonderlust solitude,
Longings turn insentient in an eternal Elysian clasp,
The Soul seeks release from the mundane transient grasp.
The heartbeats cease overjoyed with Bliss infinite,
The seventh heaven opens doors of rapture recondite,
The gladdening glamour of the glistening stars of the moonlit mirth,
The vain loiterer finds his aimless errand's Goal at last.
The fragrant opulence brought by the babbling breeze,
All rivers' routes of the ravenous journey in the Ocean cease,
The truant spirit seeks sojourn in an ascetic heart,
Desires die the death in the deathless Vast.
The lisping lips of love speak soft whisper sublime
The sylvan woodlands are sun-clad in an argent rhyme,
The radiant blossoms are bathed in the brightening mirth,
To welcome the newly-weds in the ****** vernal birth.
The Absolute sits alone, immobile in the Immortal firmament above,
To greet the new-borns in the greatness of His immaculate Love.
(Bijoylakshmi Das, Anand Utsav Ashram Haridwar. 13th October 2019)
Dec 24, 2019
Dec 24, 2019 at 9:25 PM UTC
Those days in Prashanti
devotees cue up at
Brahmamuhurtam
that time
when dew and God's sacred
presence saturate the dusty
red colored earth
soft chirp of birds just awakening
and the Islamic call to prayer clings
to mogul clouds gliding serenely
over the ashram
our anxious minds pray for the
precious chance to enter the Mandir
cloistered in that sublime sweetness
faces glisten with bliss and the
holy sound of Om orbits the earth
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 11:08 AM UTC