The Noble Man

Initially, I was amused. And then I was thinking.

Rama sent his wife to the forest, but Ravana, the so-called demon, never touched Sita. What a noble man!

His anger was aroused on seeing his sister in agony because of her face being mutilated. He immediately set out to avenge her humiliation.

World Play

There is no excitement in monotony

And so we are given our little plays

There is no thrill in peace, and off 

We go to the war with little delay

 

What's so special about beauty?

What matters is the power to destroy

We rake old wounds on the mend 

Refreshing pains, we seem to enjoy

To despair, we cling

So life may have some zing

What purpose does the scar serve? 

To bind us to our pains and pleasures

Is this all a game, you wonder?

This world, so full of blunders?

Different levels one must cross

Before finding the treasure across

Buttons like triggers

Moving us hither and thither

Rolling on, trying to find purpose

Each different, performing in a circus

Claiming, 'I am right'

For a few moments in the bright light

Only to slip into darkness

To merge with blankness

Our identity wiped out

Our existence as if not at all

All our angsts and outbursts

Just bubbles, in a moment, lost?

Is this the game He plays

Till we find we are one and the same!

One, too, with that Supreme

Flashing in and out like in movies 

The Silent Core

 

Foamy waves
Child-like and eager
Touching the sands
Chasing each other

Innocent and happy

Noisy and teasing
Reaching out joyously 

Quickly retreating

The Insignificant I

Wave after wave
of generations rise and fall
In that tumble of people
I am less than a little drop

To Be, To Be

To be the mother
Who carried you in her arms
To be the father
Who was disarmed by your charm

Finite and Infinite

Clouds float away
The space stays on.

Wind dies
The air lives on.

The Flame

The body burns
So does the heart

The world burns

Angry and hurt in parts