Awaken: From a sister to another

Today I will resist Temptation.
The Temptation to quote.
The Temptation to reproduce.
The Temptation to borrow.

Because today I will give you the stark naked truth of our lives that I have been meaning to let you into for a little lazy time now. . .

It is an epiphany... that struck me... Not as a bold lightning , not as an electric current passing through the existence of the helpless , not as the iron of a blacksmith will strike , not as a sword will at the hour of surrender....
This has struck me as an accumulation of droplets turned into an ocean over the years and finally washing my ignorance away with waves of truth. . .
My life - in retrospect has been a prolonged cold spell where warmth was a much coaxed visitor. I have come to realize that I was being  unaware to what was behind the curtain, on the outside of the tall glass windows.
The awry room of my lifehouse seems more real and coming to life as I write this. I can hear voices. Voices that amplify and turn into sounds which neither feel good nor bad. This neutral state was a veil. A veil concealing Chaos. When I was present in the room , I was comfortable with it's arrangement. As I stepped out and got back, things seemed different .Chaos. As if it were a room of a doll house and the hand of the child had slowly inserted itself thru the ceiling and knocked everything down either in sheer ill temper or by the impulse of her mother's repeated shouting of her name signalling to retire to bed and call it a night.

I continued . Continued to let this chaos remain , to such an extent that I no longer thought it odd.
Comfortably numb.

As seasons came and went by and revisted , occasionally I would hear knocks on the window. Oh! Before you wonder why not the door.... there was no door.
I never felt the need for one....so , the window...soon the attempts from the other side to reach me , faded away as a voice of chaos in the background. . .
There I was .

What seemed like just another day turned out to be different.
A strong feeling came upon me . Without any effort I was drawn toward the window. I was led and was being taken, was finally shown. . .

The memory of this journey is what has dawned on me today.
The journey from my bed to the wondow . The window that opened into . . .
I was changing .

 The restlessness, thirst and hunger that had been with me all my life, that had unmistably danced through my being........My rage of protest (against what and who?)  was crumbling.....
What happened next , was You .

Written in the book named " Memoirs " by Lakshmi Raman
A dedication to her , for being my Angel in Silence

Love you Laku.

Storms

Churning
Winds of change
Raging
Sweep through life's range.

Touching
Waves of her existence
Gently
But with a firm persistence.

Brewing
with a  fervor
Violent yet Alive
reincarnating Her.

Desire,
Its Glory
unsatisfied
writing her story.

Lucent,
her Spirit
flickering in the storm
with might and grit.

Sentience,
Waging
A war with the Mind
that is Losing.

Clambering
she does resurface
in a state of Being and not Being
floating in a steady pace.

Musing
with Eyes,
Fixated on the Light
hidden in grey skies.

Realizing
the Timelessness
of Storms
Sinking in. . . Awareness

Mr.Tambourine Man

This is inspired by a soul two of my friends and myself met at a beach in Pondicherry on a night that was spent having inspiring conversations. I believe, us meeting this soul who we call Mr.Tambourine Man with much love, triggered the intense dialogue that continued through the night into the day. This is a tribute to him. Meeting him has reinforced my faith in the belief that the Divine, manifests in the littlest of things and even at most unexpected times to remind us that we are all united and woven together in this creation by the subtle yet powerful thread of love...

As we sat on rocks by an Ocean which carried with it memories of many a type: pleasant, not so pleasant, of sunny rains and fiery storms which swept our kind away, of old men sailing away to fill their stomachs, of lovers united, of pain thrown away into pieces of letters remembered to be forgotten, of hope that the new dawn may bring with it, of intoxication and its dirty remains and of unspoken dreams that many of us quietly whisper into the air which then touch the waves and take them to the horizon- with the hope that someday some force in the Universe will hear and make them come true...So we sat, and we spoke. Spoke of things I vaguely remember. What is still vivid as a colorful painting in my memory is the songs we started to sing. "Today is gonna be the day...I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now...and afterall, you're my Wonderwaaal" , " See the stone set in your eyes See the thorn twist in your side..I cant live...With or Without you..." Perfectly out of tune we still managed to smile much with a certain air of confidence. Was it the fervor that we carried in us? I don't know. Singing chants that lovers of Kṛṣṇa sing to woo him into their lives came out from us effortlessly. Bliss crept in unannounced. The only thing missing was an instrument we could play to give our songs a beat. It wasn't too long before he came along. With his messy hair and crooked teeth, he knocked at our souls floating like cannonballs on the shores. Our eyes met and with no words exchanged the tambourine came into my hands. Winds of glee swept upon us and we started to sway. Every time one of us sang, the rest would sing along to. Finally, it was his turn. In tamil I asked the tambourine man to sing a song I had loved since a kid. A tamil song which sounded like a lullaby- Kanne Kalaimaane. Playing the tambourine and with his eyes shut tight, he started to sing. The passion he sang the song with, still does something to me. He was part of us without effort, without reason and most of all without expectation. We were getting into a unified blanket of trance which kept as safe and warm together. Finally, when it was time for his to take leave, he put his tambourine out. Hesitant to give money because of being afraid of him spending it on alcohol like most people do, I asked him what he would do with it. He said he would eat his meal for the night and remember us while doing so. A friend with me said, he should think of the divine who made it possible not us. The Tambourine Man, then said" I have not seen god with my naked eyes. But I see him now through the three of you." 
With this, he took his tambourine and started to walk away. The three of us, just looked at each other. Not knowing what hit us, but feeling a divine presence amidst us, we could only smile with moist eyes. And then to celebrate this divine intervention we sang...




Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand
Vanished from my hand
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming. . .

My silent reverie...

Sitting in the dead of the night
I stumble
I fumble
I realize
The source of the light.

The light that has been a guide
in the dark
to find me
amidst the rubble
when in pain, I did hide.

Those arms
that have always been
that have always seen
that have hugged me unseen
Overlooked , have been his charms.

Pure unconditional solace
in the sun
in the rain
in the dead of solitary nights
Giving me strength to walk straight all those days.

The kiss.
Oh it took me knocking
on heavens door
and back with his soul tangled up in mine
Time after Time,we did kiss.

Miles apart
I sit
Tears flowing down
the eyes only he loves to kiss
He has taken over in some magical way, my heart.

You have been
You are
You will be
My guardian angel
My only truth, unseen...

She found me

Dedicated to the time Nay found me - Christmas eve, 2009
 
I saw her arrive
uncalled for
unexpected
as the rush comes
making me alive.

Cracked through my wall
behind which there hid
parched lips,
wings resting,
from a fall.

In silence
she came.
Her being
painting
a divine, presence.

I was
caught
in her radiation.
Basking
under a sun now brighter,
I was.

Wrapped
tight
her words
pervade
my senses
Time Stopped.

Undressing me
from piles of
sweaters
I felt chokingly
insulated in,
making me f r e e

Setting Fire
on my dreams
of a love
effortless,
getting us higher.

Nay,
would be it
if perfection
had a name.
She is the flame,making me her Ray...

Innocence

Innocence.
She was born in
a golden cradle, with love
that saw no circumference.

Unassuming,she did live
in a life with no fear
or pain,not even the foresight
that sins of her blood she would forgive.

Innocence.
Visuals of lies woven
into a piece of dark art
she saw with a microscopic lens.

Her name,she did not ask for it, she was no loon
true to her name she was, as natural as breathing
remained untouched even when the naked truth
stared her in the eye. Was it a bane or a boon?

Innocence.
She survived many long years
of treason and battles...armourless
with an invisible shield of faith, a divine presence.

At times of turmoil
a force unseen
but not unfelt,would be there to guide
to sift sands from soil.

Innocence.
Slowly started to lose touch
not only with the divine,but herself
She was an unknown,in her own presence.

Innocence.
Shattered one day like a window pane
during the turbulence of it all...
they called out her name in vain..Oh! Innocence!

Innocence.
No she has not succumbed, she is immortal
Faith who is long gone, will show up someday
Untouched but in pieces she waits, to be woven into her essence

An Angel's flight. . .

Walking down the road
less traveled
I found a trail.
Feathers from wings
of a being divine,
who hailed from a heavenly abode.

Those feathers spoke.
of souls it had given shelter
on stormy nights
and burning days
its strands began to crumble
and into my hands, a halo broke.

Stripped into nothingness
by the material world
she fought against natures forces.
And she gave herself away
to a dark alley, she was light
and to her the sinners eyes did confess.

To fly, was the cause for her creation
not solitary like birds do
but taking with her , souls in need
to heights unreachable
fighting her way through the skies
she gave them, liberation.

She shed her wings in this forest of fear
unable to escape the creatures of the night
Why do you cry now at the sight of these wings?
when you were blinded by its existence during your flight?
Your demons have not killed her will
it rained when she shed a tear.

Sans wings this angel took flight
Oh world, you have done some good alright
Her body here has turned to dust
But her soul is gold, itl never rust
To heights that are close to the Eternal's clasp
She flew away, tonight...