Void

To the Mermaid who swam away..

Another day gone by,
night creeps into my world again.
This space you left behind,
What emptiness, the nature of this void!
So much left unsaid, incomplete,
torn apart, twisted away, pulled out.

Could you be reflecting,
on those distant shores
at other side of the world,
under the very same gaze ,
of the setting sun?

Or are you warm in the arms of another,
forgetful of the bond we created,
the ties you left behind.
This wound is painless to escape
in the arms of another.
But here and now,
fate forces me to exorcise
the shadows of your memories
with courage I must find within.

Why does your laugh echo within the hollow hallways of my ears?
And why does your smile haunt my sight whichever direction I turn?
Is this what they call obsession?
Am I mad, or am I embedded in attachment,
lost in an illusion which never was?
Maybe you never were,
maybe you do not exist
Except in the imaginary worlds
I wander into from time to time.

This void, such emptiness,
like thick syrup flowing over me
encompassing, suffocating.
How do I escape
from this prison reeking of loss
within my heart, my soul?
Are the Gods so cruel
to turn the real into the unreal?
Are they merely at play with us,
toy puppets with fragile hearts?

This puppet has let you go
but its heartstrings are yet tied to you.
Uncut, holding strong.
Why and to what I do not know.
For true you never were..

This void, how may it be full again?
The oceans have taken all the waters,
their shores have all thats sand.
the skies possess the air, the ethers
and the sun keeps all light within its palm.
What then fills a heart with love
but another heart itself.

Is love real or imaginary?
Yours appeared real for a moment,
like the reality of a fading dream,
like a cloud merging into the sky.

Am I holding onto a lost dream
snatched away as day is stolen
by the closeted darkness of night?
or do I simple yearn for you,
a reflection of myself,
as a tree misses a fallen branch?

Intoxicating Madness

The intellectual is always showing off,
the lover is always getting lost.
The intellectual runs away, afraid ofdrowning;
the whole business of love is to drown in the sea.
Intellectuals plan their repose;
lovers are ashamed to rest.
The lover is always alone,
even surrounded by people;
like waterand oil, he remains apart.
The man who goes to the trouble of giving advice
to a lover get nothing. He's mocked by passion.
Love is like musk. It attracts attention.
Love is a tree and the lovers are its shade.
-Rumi

Ah to drown in the waters of that sea, to lose yourself walking on ever-winding roads into unknown places, to surrender to the impulses generated by your own throbbing heart brimming over with the deepest oflove...
then the world becomes a cascade of colour, all music seems tomatch the rhythm of your soul,neither do your feet touch the ground nor do you feel apart from the oneyou love. Should you rejoice in the love you give, you receive, you share..the state of rapture is priceless.Even the heart-wrenching pain of unrequited love is beyond compare.What other pain can intoxicate so? Yes Rumi, beloved friend, teacher from another realm,another time, no advice and no medicine can heal what ails one who exists in this state. No fear however powerful, can prevent a lover from reaching this place. A true lover only wants is to give of himself,more and more and still more. Take of me what you will, for I am endless, the source of love within myself is limitless -that is what real love makes you realise. If this is madness, let it never end. May this mad, intoxication envelope the entire universe. Let not a single heart remain dry. May Human love however limited, become Divine and endless in expression. May the whole creation pulsate with this love.

All that you have is your soul

Oh my mama told me'
Cause she say she learned the hard way
Say she wanna spare the children
She say don't give or sell your soul away
'Cause all that you have is your soul

Don't be tempted by the shiny apple
Don't you eat of a bitter fruit
Hunger only for a taste of justice
Hunger only for a world of truth

Thought I'd made something that could be mine forever
Found out the hard way one can't possess another
And all that you have is your soul

I thought thought that I could find a way
To beat the system
To make a deal and have no debts to pay
I'd take it all take it all I'd run awayMe for myself first class and first rate
But all that you have is your soul

Here I am waiting for a better day
A second chance
A little luck to come my way
A hope to dream a hope that I can sleep again
And wake in the world with a clear conscience and clean hands
'Cause all that you have is your soul
-Tracy Chapman (excerpts from All that you have is your soul)

This is so true isn’t it? All that you really have is your soul. How often we try to take short cuts in our lives, a quicker way through no matter what the cost or how often do we walk over someone else's dreams, or break a heart or two along the way just so that we can get what we want.

We may blank these things from our minds, justify our actions and believe that we really are holier-than-thou, but in the end, all we have to face is our own conscience. I liken the conscience to a mirror, which we have to constantly face, day in and day out. I'm sure you know what I mean when I say that Conscience can a bitter mirror to face.

So it's best we try as best we can to keep it clean. You may not win any popularity contests or any fans along the way, but better that, than a sleepless night or a dive into a bottle just to forget.

All that you have is your soul..we do come into this world with our own soul, our very own imprint of our mannerisms, thoughts, relationship patterns, life dramas, it is like our own script and we keep re-inventing that script day-in, day-out. Eventually we leave with the same soul with an altered imprint only to go to the next place be it here or elsewhere. It is said that ultimately we are all moving to a clearer slate no matter what we may be doing. Surely that is promising!

So yeah, I believe a little self-enquiry and discrimination on the constructive or destructive thing to do in any given situation will help a long way.

The Leprechaun

Do you remember that evening?

The endless monsoon shower just died down to a occasional sprinkling of miscellaneous droplets..heavenly tears onto and around us. Do you remember the quiet? That freshness, the earth beneath our bare feet, fields of emerald for miles all around. The hills surrounding us stood majestically, triumphant in their eternal poise.

You just sat there, silent gazing into the distance, breeze ruffling your hair. Me by your side, lost in the green, lost in the moment. .

Up ahead in the horizon, the skies cleared to reveal a sliver of golden light setting in the west. The sliver shone a rainbow nearby, those colours, you smiled and held my hand in childish delight. Are you thinking what I am thinking? but those are mere fairytales..aren't they?
We ran hand in hand, wild abandon to that elusive spot where rainbows end and rainbows commence..or do they never end..maybe they just go on into the ground to light up the world below?..After all everybody deserves a rainbow..some colour in a world of too much black and white.

Remember that mysterious tree we stopped at? It had a few branches, leaves, fruits, birds-nests all bathed in colour. Every colour imaginable on its branches various hues, shades emphasised in the twilight. I pulled you to me, your arms around my neck, my lips on yours, raindrops through the rustling leaves onto us as we kissed an eternity, are we still there?

Footsteps mild, soft almost nonchalant but we hear them...I turn around mesmerized, your eyes follow mine...the smallest creature imaginable, almost invisible yet perceptible. Holding a small magenta pot with a sweet knowing smile under his whiskers..walking towards the rainbow..we followed him so softly.. remember...as he ambled those last few paces to the field of colour..he sang to the colour in a tongue ancient and a song in itself.The colours trembled at his tiny voice as if it was thunder itself.He turned to face us, knowing all along where we were,who we were..impishly he put his finger on his lips implying a shush...shh..and a smile as he disappeared into the fading rainbow...

Was that a choir in the distance? Fluttering of wings perhaps? Then a mild bugle call...

We walked back to our cottage as the dark shadows of dusk finally took root all around us. That night, as the full moon fought it's moonbeams through thick clouds to us, lovers together, entwined within each others arms..you felt a gold coin appear in the palm of your hand..

Do you remember how beautiful that coin was? It sparkled in the dark and in the soft moonlight, all the colours of the rainbow reflected at us, it was a gift..I could have sworn I heard that familar pitter-patter of small feet in the distance and that sweet voice singing like a nightingale.

He is still here, watching over us.. his secret is safe with us..always.