O Kali
You hold the world
In the fleeing fleeces
Of your infinite
Black hair
You hold the the power
Of control
On this world
For your
Tongue
Protruding in glory
Points to the annihilated
Darkness of the world
You stand dramatically
One foot ahead
On your spouse
O he is no less
The mighty Shiva
As her and his eyes alike
Meet each other
Non contact forces
Working light years away
Hail you and him
O the Satan's head
Lies chopped
In your lotus palms
Yet they hold controlling it
With such a charm
Your glorious eyes
Glazing with the Kohl
The adsorbed sorrow
And dearth of your
Devotees' lives
You bless them
With your lotus palms
Which points but
Downwards
Oh this world but
Is bound by gravity
Oh that Satan's blood
Also falls
Under gravity
Signifying continuity
Of ones like him
Being born
And you
Annihilating them
Again and again
O Devi
Your rawness
Is so charismatic
You shelter your
Devotees'
Under the drapes
Of your clothes
The sword in your hand
Dispelling all evil
Let you guard and nourish as all
Forevermore
O Kali!

1
*Gongs and drums sound rambunctious,
a wild rhythm tears the silence of the night,
a slow number first, then in quick time
racing fast,everything ends in a blast.
his self control lost, he dances like one possessed,
in the moon lit places and shadows alike.
This angst is not his alone, he feels,
as if mad at the way the world these days is.
Freedom of a special kind, it was, catharsis,
drums sounding mysterious, made life different.
                               2
Once when he and his girl were making love
deep in his veins drums rumbled,
and he couldn't but stop and listen,
she was curious,"What is this, what do you listen?"
smiling, he resumed his dance
thorough the valley and plains, like wind,
to the tune of temple drums,
his hair flying and sweat pouring  like rain,
she could catch the change of rhythm
intense love was there, in the depth of fury.

Then, they ended up panting,then lying quiet.
holding each other tight,she said;
"you are like one possessed, fantastic,"
but he had felt the presence of a third,
he felt in his bones,
a benign female presence, who is she?
                      3
The oracle holding a sword with a shining blade,
wearing a red silk turban and a white **** cloth, told:
"It's the possession of a woman, a wild spirit,
her songs and dance were snuffed out
at a young age, when it slowly emerged,
it happened at a time we don't know when,
a kindred spirit, your tumult suits her soul."
the oracle was in a trance when he opened his eyes,
"Not a curse, a blessing, symbiotic it is"
the oracle  threw a bit of holy ash on him and said:
"Well son, in you Devi, the mother goddess
is pleased, this spirit will survive,
her speakings will come out from you,
all will be just fine, being kind you received her,
so pleased and contented she is, wouldn't disturb"

They walked together, the woman without a body
to fulfill her dreams or sing her songs,
at times of loneliness the drums sound,
she comes in to his tumultuous soul, he makes her alight,
in their entwined destiney, he sings her songs, they dance.

O Devi, awaken the good in all,
there's no demon, nor devil
but in our mind, our will.

Raise our spirit, O Devi,
to the mountain's height
so we can use our might
to leave narrowness and rise above,
learn to live in amity and love!

The goddess looks breathtaking
In her red saree, an emblem of marriage.
Her skin is soft to touch,
Yet she carries a heavy sword in her hands.
The goddess looks serene and calm,
Only that she is about to **** the darkness of demons who are awaiting their freedom.
The goddess wears Kohl in her eyes,
Only to smudge it with her tears.
As she wins the battles plunging the heart out of evil.
The goddess is a mother, she wears red bangles, a colour for both womanhood and rage,
Intertwined and interconnected since the beginning of time.
The Goddess has given birth to her children
with great pains and no agony can beat her strength.
As Devi would not hesitate to become a bloodthirsty Kali
To protect her children.
Divine femininity I bow to you.
Men can only know the power of violence,
But Devi knows the power of love,
How in times of war, it can be our biggest weapon.
Fueled by the energy to **** not out of hatred or Revenge,
But love that led a Mother to pick up arms
So she could protect us all
from the evil that harbours within.
Devi is divine feminine and I bow to her.
She has been created from the strength of all mothers and sisters and daughters.
She tells us the ancient tale of
how women always have had the hidden strength
To leave trails of destruction, only when forced.
Devi does not bleed every month only to be scared of the blood of
evil rakshasas on her hand.
The goddess will happily drink it
And decorate her hands with the demon's blood,
Spreading it on her fingers like red henna.
Devi looks focused, almost peaceful as she kills Mahishasur.
She doesn't want the glory of power.
Her only truth is love.
Even in the heat of battle, Devi's beauty shines through.
Divine Feminine, I bow to you.

Sul, limitare, tra la casa e 1'orto
dove son brulli gli alberi, te voglio,
che vi verdeggi dopo ch'io sia morto,
sempre, agrifoglio.

Lauro spinoso t'ha chiamato il volgo,
che sempre verde t'ammirò sul monte:
oh! Cola il sangue se un tuo ramo avvolgo
alla mia fronte!

Tu devi, o lauro, cingere l'esangue
fronte dei morti! E nella nebbia pigra
alle tue bacche del color di sangue,
venga chi migra,

tordo, frosone, zigolo muciatto,
presso la casa ove né suona il tardo
passo del vecchio. E vengavi d'appiatto
l'uomo lombardo,

e del tuo duro legno, alla sua guisa
foggi cucchiari e mestole; il cucchiare
con cui la mamma imbocca il *****, assisa
sul limitare.

Pyar ke deep jalayenge hum,
Mil kar sath sabhi
Desh ki takat ko badhayenge hum,
Es desh ki mitti hamari hain,
Yahi par janam liya hain
yahi par mar jayenge hum,
Pyar ke deep jalayenge hum,

Mita ke nafrat logon me
phir se bhaichara layenge hum,
Auraton ka samman karenge
Use vishav me devi ka darja dilayenge hum,
Mil kar sath sabhi
pyar ke deep jalayenge hum,

Banenge hum besaharon ka sahara
Apne aap ko itna takatwar banayenge hum,
Na koi bada na koi chhota hoga es desh me,
Ese hi puri duniya ko batayenge hum,
mil kar sath sabhi
pyar ke deep jalayenge hum...

Jis phul ne koi galati hi nahi ki, Use kis baat ki saza diya ja rha hai,
Es duniya me aane se pahle hi kyu use maar diya ja rha hai,

Ai Khuda kyu aise janwar ko tune banaya,
Ek chhoti kali ko pet me hi maar khud ko insaan btaya,

Na maaro us phul ko jisme us bhagwan ka hai waas,
Ek din aisa aayega jab ** jayega puri shristi ka naas

Arey nasamjh insaan sirf bete ki hi aas lagaoge,
To phir maa, behan aur dulhan kahan se paoge,

Mata-Pita ki galati ki saza us chhoti kali ko diya jata hai,
Ek chhote se andhere ghar me hi use maar diya jata hai,

Wo kali bhi baar baar unlogo se karti pukar,
Hey Maa-Baba mujhe pet me hi mat maar,

Ye duniya ek baar mujhe bhi dikha de,
Apne amrit ki ek ghunt mujhe bhi pila de,


Nanhi si jaan tou hai bekasoor,
Maar kar hi aakhir kyu milta hai pathar dilon ko suroor,

Wo bhi dekhna chahti hai duniya,
Janam lene se pehle hi Jaan gawani padti hai oo gudiya,

Apne hi hathon ukhed dete hai apne hi aangan ka phool,
Kaisa hai ye bereham logon ka usool,

Kismat wale hote hai wo insaan,
Jinki kokh mein dete hain betiyan bhagwaan,

Beti hai ishwar ka hai en anmol uphaar,
Jeene ka us nanhi jaan ko bhi hai adhikaar,

Sharam aati hai logo ki is ghatiya soch par,
Taras aata hai unpar
Jo apne hi ansh ka dete hain maar
Devi ka karte hain jo tiraskaar,

Banao ek naya usool
Beti ko karo qubool

Jeevan ka hai ye adhaar
Banta hai inhi se sansaar,

Likh us phul ka dard hamari aankhen bhar aai,
Teri banai duniya me O mera khuda ye teri kaisi khudai..
Ye teri kaisi khudai...


Collaboration by Manish Shrivastava and Sonia Paruthi

The day my heart hijacked my brain,
I fell very deeply under your spell.
Since then, till the day you parted,
My heart was busy freezing the moments.

Paths crossing and the paths parting,
Strangers to each other before and after,
The only moments recorded with time stamps.
In between, they are just snapshots, or short videos.

They keep erupting incessantly,
Reminding me of the days when
My brain was yelling at my insanity, and
The heart kept on ignoring that loud noise.

Now, it is the heart that has been defeated;
It is still not ready to be ruled by the brain,
As every moment it is reminded by these snapshots.
Nonetheless, the brain is trying to help it heal.

©Bharathi Devi

Peace and tranquility would be, not to disturb the natural order, flow of things, energy.
To contemplate on what is the natural order of things and understanding it would be Shiva or Devi.

Where are you Devi ?

Up in the Kailasha
in the arms of Mahadeva
snowclad silent in meditation
while down below in their settlement
humans in the belief you've come down
adorn you with flowers with their hands
and with those same hands **** own blood
rob own kin debauch mothers and sisters
crowd your place of worship with no piety
but for selfies with your image on the background
for Devi unbeknownst to even you
you're no more the Shakti
the prowess against the Evil
but a commerce, a commodity
in the hands of men of 21st century
who know to worship only money.

I met a girl last night

Her hair a fluid lucid illusion
Her motion a brisk frisk crisp

I met a girl last night
A girl called Sri Devi
With her brush she danced
My skin, her stage

With her brush she swooned
As my heart, to her, crooned

She drew a sun, and a musical note
In black and red, with heart she wrote

I met a girl last night
A girl called Sri Devi

Shyly, she held my hand
As the music grew louder, O the band

She wet her brush, dipped in paint
Let go of boundaries, all restraints

I met a girl last night
A girl called Sri Devi

Her hair a fluid lucid illusion
Her motion a brisk frisk crisp

She drew a sun, and a musical note
In red and black, with heart she wrote

Once upon a time, not long ago,
A seed of an idea flying from the land afar,
Took deep root in my fertile imagination!

There was no reason and it was no season,
But the seed sprouted and thrived!
There was some sunshine and some rain,
Enough for it to grow wild and wide –
But, the climate was not meant to be.

It engulfed my existence,
disconnected my reasoning,
It was self-sustaining!
I was basking in its beauty;
With its branches spread all over me,
I couldn’t see the world outside.

Then it started withering and dying,
For reasons I cannot explain.
The sunshine vanished,
Raindrops evaporated.
It took a while for me to realize that
All I have left is, just
A ghost of my imagination!

©Bharathi Devi

Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha sabhi ka samman kiya jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha sabhi logo me ekta hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha atithi ko bhagwan ka darja diya jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha aurato ko devi kaha jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha hindu muslim sikh esai sabhi bhai bhai hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha mata pita ko dharti ke bhagwan mana jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha sabhi log desh ke liye marte hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha mahatma gandhi, Bhagat singh, Subash chandra bose jaise beero ne janam liya tha,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha par sanchai aur ekta mishal hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha ki nadiya sudha jal deti hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jise log bharat ya india kahte hain...
      JAY HIND
               JAY BHARAT

It was but was not god nor  goddess.
It was but was not deva nor devi.
It was but was not angel nor demon.
It was but was not metaphysical being of any kind.
It was but had not any name nor could it be named.
It was but had not any  face nor likeness.
It was but had not any body or corporeal state.
It was but had not any form nor lack of form.
It was but not incarnate nor disincarnate.
It was but was not existent nor non-existent.
It was but could be described in words in any way.
It was but had not depth nor height nor breadth nor volume.
It was  but could not be measured in any way.
It was but had not materiality of any kind.
It was but had not immateriality of any kind.
It was but had not space nor lack  of space.
It was but had not direction nor lack  of direction.
It was but had not nothingness.
It was  but had not somethingness.
It was but had not anythingness.
It was but had not beingness.
It was but not Isness or non-Isness.
It was but had not light nor dark.
It was but had not wetness nor dryness.
It was but was not nowhere.
It was but was not nowhere.
It was but was not somewhere.
It was but was not anywhere.
It was and then It manifested the nature of Its essence
and became the universe and all that was in the universe.
All that was incarnate and disincarnate.
All that was physical and metaphysical.
All that was existent and non-existent.
And still It was.
It manifested Itself in ignorance of Its own nature as the Isness of the Universe,
in order to participate in the existence It had created from Its own essence,on an equal and fair level with humanity.
It gave of its own essence by putting a small piece of its own essence--the individual Isness-which is equal and autonomous and individual and independent--into all human bodies,both female and male,at conception.
And It made humans ignorant of their nature--the  individual Isness--
as It  made itself ignorant of Its own nature.
And then It set humans and Itself the Riddle of the Existence
that had come from Its manifestation of its nature as the universe and all that was in it.
It posed these three questions to humanity and to Itself.
1--Who am I?.
2--Why am I here?.
3--When I knowhow I am then what is my purpose?.
Who am I?.
Like all humans,and for the sake of fairness,
It manifested Itself  into ignorance of its own nature also.
The Isness of the Universe set humans the task of realising their own nature--which is the individual Isness--as an equal individual autonomous and independent part of the essence of the Isness of the Universe,so that they could then show the Isness of the Universe Its own essence and then share existence together.
The principle governing Its action in creating the universe and all it contains, especially humanity,was that before you can reach the heights of existence you must go through the depths of existence.
Why am I here?.
Obviously I am here to answer the first question.
After answering the first question --which can only be done existentially and not intellectually--
there would then be the third question to be answered.
The answer to the first question lies in regaining your existential nature--the individual Isness--as a small but equal,independent, individual,nameless,formless,genderless and non-physical Isness formed from the Isness of the Universe which is free from Mind and Conditioned Identity.
The answer  does  NOT lie in amassing the false knowledge of all "religions" and "political systems  that the Mind and Conditioned Identity have created in order to mislead the individual Isness from realising ,existentially,its true nature.
The Isness of the Universe  did not want a world of maniputed puppets,as the Mind/Conditioned Identity,does but in order to achieve fairness in solving the Riddle of Existence,it gave humanity these attributes and the ability to live out their opposites.
Freedom of Will.
Freedom of Choice.
Freedom of speech.
Freedom of Truthfulness.
Freedom of Association.
Freedom of  Debate.
Freedom from Violence.
Agreement to Disagree.


www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk

Once I fell in love, deeply, madly, and crazily!
My head told my heart, I had lost my senses!
And, I agreed, for once, with my head!
I thought the other party also had the same feelings!


But, then every time I approached,
I was bounced out of the court, like volleyball!
My head kept on sending alarms,
But my heart would not listen!

May be I was wrong! Perhaps I was a fool
to believe that others also feel as intensely as I do;
For I noticed that I was being ignored and
Avoided, mostly during all this!

Slowly, my heart realized that after all
there was some truth in what my head was saying!
It recognized that it was not a ball,
Rather, a temple of love that needs cherishing!

Perhaps I was wrong! Perhaps it was just my imagination!
For if there was love, we would have come very closer!
Whatever it was, while it may still be crazy,
My heart refuses to be a ball anymore!

©Bharathi Devi

Nella Torre il silenzio era già alto.
Sussurravano i pioppi del Rio Salto.
I cavalli normanni alle lor poste
frangean la biada con rumor di croste.
Là in fondo la cavalla era, selvaggia,
nata tra i pini su la salsa spiaggia;
che nelle froge avea del mar gli spruzzi
ancora, e gli urli negli orecchi aguzzi.
Con su la greppia un gomito, da essa
era mia madre; e le dicea sommessa:
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
che portavi colui che non ritorna;
tu capivi il suo cenno ed il suo detto!
Egli ha lasciato un figlio giovinetto;
il primo d'otto tra miei figli e figlie;
e la sua mano non toccò mai briglie.
Tu che ti senti ai fianchi l'uragano,
tu dai retta alla sua piccola mano.
Tu ch'hai nel cuore la marina brulla,
tu dai retta alla sua voce fanciulla".
La cavalla volgea la scarna testa
verso mia madre, che dicea più mesta:
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
che portavi colui che non ritorna;
lo so, lo so, che tu l'amavi forte!
Con lui c'eri tu sola e la sua morte.
O nata in selve tra l'ondate e il vento,
tu tenesti nel cuore il tuo spavento;
sentendo lasso nella bocca il morso,
nel cuor veloce tu premesti il corso:
adagio seguitasti la tua via,
perché facesse in pace l'agonia... "
La scarna lunga testa era daccanto
al dolce viso di mia madre in pianto.
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
che portavi colui che non ritorna;
oh! Due parole egli dové pur dire!
E tu capisci, ma non sai ridire.
Tu con le briglie sciolte tra le zampe,
con dentro gli occhi il fuoco delle vampe,
con negli orecchi l'eco degli scoppi,
seguitasti la via tra gli alti pioppi:
lo riportavi tra il morir del sole,
perché udissimo noi le sue parole".
Stava attenta la lunga testa fiera.
Mia madre l'abbracciò su la criniera
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
portavi a casa sua chi non ritorna!
A me, chi non ritornerà più mai!
Tu fosti buona... Ma parlar non sai!
Tu non sai, poverina; altri non osa.
Oh! ma tu devi dirmi una cosa!
Tu l'hai veduto l'uomo che l'uccise:
esso t'è qui nelle pupille fise.
Chi fu? Chi è? Ti voglio dire un nome.
E tu fa cenno. Dio t'insegni, come".
Ora, i cavalli non frangean la biada:
dormian sognando il bianco della strada.
La paglia non battean con l'unghie vuote:
dormian sognando il rullo delle ruote.
Mia madre alzò nel gran silenzio un dito:
disse un nome... Sonò alto un nitrito.

Devi is an ocean.

standing on the beach,
ocean does not affect me,
is completely indifferent ,
howsoever deeply I love being there,
the wetness has not touched me!

To truly know the ocean
enjoy it I need to immerse myself,
and go deep diving so see its true beauty.
Ocean will still not care who I am,
but know I will be a changed person.

Per chi conosce solo il tuo colore,
bandiera rossa,
tu devi realmente esistere, perché lui
esista:
chi era coperto di croste è coperto di
piaghe,
il bracciante diventa mendicante,
il napoletano calabrese, il calabrese
africano,
l'analfabeta una bufala o un cane.
Chi conosceva appena il tuo colore,
bandiera rossa,
sta per non conoscerti più, neanche coi
sensi:
tu che già vanti tante glorie borghesi e
operaie,
ridiventa straccio, e il più povero ti
sventoli.

The lute of my heart
Sways to sweet tunes
Come,o come
Glorious conscience
The song filled
Lotus garden
Of my heart awaits you
O one who stays
In realms unknown
Holding the lute(veena)
Of my conscience
In her hand
Under her control
Not only is she the
Manifestation of
Ambrosia filled
Goodness
But the sacred
Goddess of the word
By whose divine touch
What surrounds her
Is blessed with such goodness!
Her very image
Is like the glory
Of light
Of a diamond
The beauty
Of the dreaming
Eyes of a deer
O somewhere
That radiance
Does reside
In my heart's place
By the presence of whom
This day and this night
Are sweet to enchant
To their heart's glory
O the fragrant enchanting
Directions
Touched by the honey
Of the cuckoo's song
O show yourself
O goddess
In this radiant glory
Let my eyes
Be blessed
Once by
Your divine grace
O do not
Reside anymore
In the realm
Unknown
Of my mind
Under the veil of
Shadowy illusion
Manifest yourself,o Devi
Let your grace enlighten me!!

Hand write
                   ( Hands right
                                  Sinistral kid)
Me a love poem.
                   (A sonnet?
                             Whatever)
Make me feel like a queen,
                   (Like Joanna of Castile?
                              I know who she is, you ****)
Like I am worshipped and adored.
                   (Like Imelda Marcos then?
                              I have more shoes)
Make my heart flutter
                   (Arrhythmia
                              Whatever)
And swell until it bursts.
                   (Be careful what you wish for
                               ......................)
Treat me like a princess
                   (Shanti Rajya Lakshmi Devi
                               I've Googled her as well)
And make all my dreams come true.
                   (I dream of a loaded gun.
                              So you can **** me?)

"No, just myself.

All I want is for you to ******* feel something".

I surrender. See there, my white flag,
Flying high? Yes, enough! You win!
I cannot interpret the mute language anymore.
When you shift your glance every time I see you,
Are you telling me you have moved on, or
Is it that I have done something wrong?

So, tell me, what is that you want to say,
Or what is that I need to know?
I am realizing more and more that
The signal processor in my brain is faulty.
It is introducing a lot of noise, so much so that
Fourier Transform gives jumbled frequencies!

Communication either in English or
my mother tongue Kannada, or even
the math symbols or Venn diagrams,
-bits and bytes also would do if not hexadecimal-
may perhaps tune my dud brain
to the right frequency to receive the right signal!

For, I may be causing more damage to us both,
And I certainly do not wish to hurt anybody,
Least of all, you, who I like very much;
I will do anything to set the things right!
So, tell me, what is that you want to say,
Or what is that I need to know?

©Bharathi Devi

Hey, when you sent that LinkedIn invite
I was impressed by your profile and
couldn’t resist but respond.

Then we became Facebook friends and
Took our friendship to the next level.
Texting and Tweeting brought our hearts closer,
Romance became inevitable.

Now that you are so close,
I cannot but envy your smartphone.
I wish I am that screen that
You still stare at, even when
we are with each other.

I wish we could go back to the olden days,
When the lovers lost themselves
In each other’s eyes, in each other’s arms,
Sitting on the beach facing the sky
Merging with the colors of the
Setting sun, with no mode of modern
Communication, but our five senses.

© Bharathi Devi

The cool breeze tickles my face,
The sun plays hide and seek.
There is peace in the air,
A quietness that precedes the sunset.

Most of the young baseball teams
Have already left or, are winding up.
The young basket ball players are still busy
Running around the hoop and throwing the ball.

Walkers and runners, people with strollers
Are all there going around that mile long track,
Surrounded by the tall Eucalyptus trees and
Curious squirrels and the dogs that chase them.

The usual Latino picnickers are less in number.
Some are still barbecuing and eating on the benches.
But there is one group under some tents,
Singing with an all female mariachi band.

The same dog walkers that I see every weekend,
With dogs on strollers, in their backpacks, and walking on their sides,
Are having an impromptu meeting with a bunch of their tribe,
With their dogs eagerly expressing their opinions.

There is a Dance 1 show from Redondo,
With the young kids showing off their just acquired talent,
Dancing asynchronously, but trying their best though,
Sometimes, stopping and watching others.

Batting cage is still active, the clunk clunk sound
Adding background music to the park.
People are still sitting around the pond,
Ducks walking eagerly around them asking for food.

There is a group of people busy eating,
Perhaps members of the "Bigger than the Big” club.
I watched curiously about their transition
From standing to the sitting position.

Shadows get longer, sun is bidding farewell,
Dance team dismantles its stage,
Young dancers with wild hopes,
All start walking towards their cars.

©Bharathi Devi

Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor.
Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower.
Little bit sweet, and little bit sour,
Sometimes it’s hot but not too more….

Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric.
Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy
And any one you ask he always say “M busy”
Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy

There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska
Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska

From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns,
From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels
From telephone rings and doorbell brings.
There are people connecting through Blackberry pings

Where there’s little time to spare for kids
People here spend their lives on bids
Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter
But milkman mixing water is not a cheater!

Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat
Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art
From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart
Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart

Where local trains usually run on time
And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime
Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine
People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine”

From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town
And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown
Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea
But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee.

Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali
Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali
Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful
Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful

Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city
Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty.
Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty
Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.

Half awake, half asleep,
I was into my second cup of tea,
immersed in my newspaper in front.

Suddenly I sense something on my side
Panicking, I pulled myself out of sleep,
only to witness a small spider bungee jumping.

My brain was still booting from the sleep,
The operating system hadn't loaded yet.
So, grabbed a paper and sent it flying elsewhere!

** ** **...it laughed as it vanished,
No clue when I will see it again, Hopefully,
Next time I meet, I will be fully awake!

©Bharathi Devi

Sleep light like sleet sheets fall
Dream bright like lithe beings fall
woe shines sometimes like worry all
Play pain like paint lays on planed planks all
Lift love to live life like light links fall
Daze right like dreamed draughts in droll days all
Gaze great sight like grand flights might gather all

"We work with the substantial,
but the emptiness is what we use."


If all things were equal it plays out like this:

A rainy day and we're at the Rose Garden
Your father bought the seats. He enjoys that I like sports so much,
Takes him back to a simpler time when he played in a gym similar to this
Where he met your mother
You're in black and it has nothing
to do with the team colors
You say it's a phase and I believe it

We scale Nanda Devi and you look the part of the mountain's name
You look the way you did on the afternoon I met you.
I wonder where the levee is this time
Above the clouds we are naked to the sun and the sky,
naked and raw to each other
and it feels whole and honest

Feverish night in a dive bar in La Paz
there are skulls on the wall
I think to what end
Men and women crowd the floor
The band is hitting its stride after a marathon set  
We dance until we are both in many different places
Some of which involve the person we are dancing with
Sometimes we are alone in front of a mirror
I've never had to help you stand at the end of the night
You never have to ask me to go outside

Intertwined tightly on a twin bed, maybe for the night
A train eats up track in the distance.
We remember now when we shared a room.
(Tops of two bunk-beds, as if lying on two different shores)
Arms around you and I forget the concept of possession

It is good to get lost at Edapally junction
in that sea of people in the bus bay in front of emmanaul silks
to be exact, I could get lost in any part of kerala
it is the same to me ,kozhikode, thrissur or cochin
I am a foreigner
And i have adapted.
why ?
Why ,you may ask
why this indifference to one's own mother
simply because you cannot abandon your mother though you grew up in an orphanage
So goes for these places
I did not choose my mother
nor did I choose my native land
and I cannot orphan them
can I ?
I am familiar with some places now
As new memories are made
I remember places now
I remember fort kochi for the lanes sloshed in whisky and dreams
i remember vypin for small truths
I remember vytilla for heartbreak and pain
I remember wellington for incessant talk and friends
I remember calicut for numerous crossroads and junctions and restrooms
I remember thrissur for art and molestation
i do remember places now for each memory made
it was not like this for the place I grew
I know the temple and the paddy field
and the people in each house
like the woman on Google maps announcing each turn and curve
I would say this where I smashed the neatly piled red bricks with my lady bird bicycle
or take a turn in that alley and say this where I buy coloured glass bangles
Or take a left here ,this is where I light lamps filled with ghee fasting and in obeisance to devi
It is all vivid ,perfect with no doubts
and everything is doubtful in my own land
And then ,I decided to get lost at Edapally
sorry if I am geographically wrong

I stopped my car at the highway
Amongst the water logged fields
Overgrown with white lilies
my driver looked displeased
how could one waste travel and money
until then I had counted minutes and seconds
Of anticipated moments of security boarding and baggage
and now I stopped here at angamali  a nowhere
and watched my flight overhead
What now he looked anxiously
let's take a detour
I said
and yelled at the plane
"I don't care "
I want to get lost
And switched off all accountability

He dropped me at Edapally junction
And i stood still in that movement
a flood of people
fear engulfed me
the airconditioned air filled my mind
a fake cherry tree with cotton and red  glitter paper stood staring
People moved in with money and came out with loads
sweat, dreams, monotony, laughter expectations ,new hopes and hopes  dangling in the bus bay
some comfort now ,I stood hugging my Adidas coat
I did not know where to look and was whirling around in small circles
when I felt being pulled
Your lanky arm
I was here trying to get lost
And here you were pulling me back
I walked with big steps trying to dodge you and hoping to disapper
And then it started to pour
I did not know which was louder
the rain or your anger
your knuckles white
is this why they call white with fury
even the rain seemed white
the cotton hung wet and the cherry Tree seemed drained
but language seemed fine
you drove
I walked
and it rained
it was perfect to get lost

She sits atop a hill,
the brown stone Goddess
Bleeding.

She squats and part her legs,
the yoni splattered with red,
Bleeding.

No cloth, no pad, no shame
a wild wild woman untamed,
Bleeding.

Her vermilion melts, and drops and paints,
her forehead to her yoni,
Bleeding.

The blood feeds earth
melting the hearth,
Bleeding.

The red of life,
preserved in a menstrual cup
Bleeding.

From the kumkum to bindi to choori to saree,
she a woman deliquescing in red,
Bleeding.