The Invisible Strings

The Invisible Strings

The Power that keeps the earth in its orbit
And makes it tick as per programme
Belongs to the spheres spiritual.
The Milky Way cradles and cuddles the earth
Which in turn, mirrors the same affection to its own offspring.
Each soul is shadowed by a star
All through its earthly journey.
Man though blessed with higher intelligence
Has yet to shape his own destiny.
Each cell that pulsates with life,
Each atom that holds its clan together,
In fact, has its strings somewhere else.
Rain, fire, diseases and droughts,
Man faces volcanoes, tornadoes and earthquakes
And thousand other things that happen to him.
Even his own thoughts, actions and feelings,
His tears overlapping his pseudo-smiles,
His birth and his death just happen to him.

Movements, massacres and maladies,
Kings, rulers, events & accidents,
Things material, ephemeral and circumstances of all hues
Happen to man and he mechanically suffers all.
Neither can he create nor annihilate anything;
Handling available data is no creation, no wisdom.
Can a machine know about itself?
And can it have any free will?
If none, then where lies its responsibility?
Thoughts and things are intertwined throughout the space
And things can’t happen in any other way.
Whatever passes through man’s brain gets refracted,
Myriad are the mind-muddling mysteries.
Man is still in the initial stages of evolution,
On the road of spatial and spiritual exploration.
If permitted, this doubly removed reality
May, one day, be able to peep into
His own origin and his own destiny.

The Divine Urge

The Divine Urge

If the inky vastness of the Cosmos
Has evolved innumerable lustrous forms,
It may produce its own clone in good time.
If inanimate chemicals can be transformed
Into complex life-building blocks,
Just by the pulsation of Time,
Who can prevent the Universe
From getting into the family way?
There is space enough to surrogate
And sustain a Baby Cosmos.
A perfect Whole will come out of the perfect Whole
Leaving behind the balance intact!
What a divine machine is the Universe!
In the zero hour the earth was a hot bed
For the Soul to lie with Matter and manifest Itself.
But now a single atom can reverberate its ancestral bang;
A single gene, a single thought can shake
And shape the whole globe.
Matter pregnant with Divinity is wedded to Eternity.
Evolution onward is the divine urge.
All Matter is loaded with Energy enough
To be eternally in a state of flux.

Journey without Knapsack

Journey without Knapsack

Life and death are complementary to each other.
Death is a sure cure for the incurables of life,
And the mortal extinction
May prove a perpetual vacation.

Freaking around relaxedly and
Enjoying physicality in retrospect is bliss.
Sinking into oblivion of a safari
Without the knapsack is a joy.

To black out and have nothing to figure out
May prove real peace.
It’s better to be in the space
Whistling to no tune than to crush into life.

The heat of fame cools down in the evening,
Leaving behind unpleasant hangover.
Why stop to watch flowers growing in the vicinity?
They will go on blooming as usual.

Silence is the best part of eloquence;
All gifts and garlands wither in time,
And no crown fits the head that lies in the grave.
It’s detachment that unfetters the soul.

Time is Sizzling

Time is Sizzling

When genocide is committed and law is hijacked,
It’s time for Nature to frown and operate.
Under the pretext of patriotism or religion,
Rulers have been feeding their cannon.

Saints and scriptures have been dwarfed
By the lure of sex and materialistic onslaught.
Primitive instincts are quick to react
But refined ones take time to assert.

Mother Tincture diluted to a higher potency
Cures well the chronic maladies;
But the Homo sapiens after myriad generations
Have yet to cure their primitive tendencies.

‘Similia simililbus curantur’
But can terror cure terror?
Can fire extinguish fire?
Agreed, diamond cut diamond.

Theories and beliefs have a life-span;
Every era needs a new Prophet
To drive the wheel out of the rut.
Is Time sizzling for a megaburst?

The Retreat Inwards

The Retreat Inwards

Heaven radiates luminuous flux
And each soul glows with perfect light;
It’s just a cloud of ignorance
That veils the Sun from our sight.

The phenomenal is not without the realm
That God illuminates and vivifies;
He is aqualung in the ocean of existence
And within the inert, He fructifies.

The present is the pivot of eternity,
The alchemy that can purge, within lies;
He awaits you in your inner self,
Lift the veil and ‘He’ becomes ‘I’.

The quest for truth is no journey,
It’s retreat inwards for a cosmic flight;
It’s just waking from a dream,
The Coin is replica of the Die.

Cybernetics of the Soul

Cybernetics of the Soul

Freshness does decay and out of decay freshness sprouts;
The same Law operates through death that operates through life.
Light pre-supposes presence of the dark.
Wrapped up in the ephemeral,
Can one realize the transcendent?
A seed has to perish for a seedling to come out.
Until the reflection merges into the reality,
Supreme beatitude can’t be attained.
Do pain and pleasure lie within the periphery of senses alone,
Or do they persist in the consciousness even after death?
Can consciousness be zeroed,or go beyond, for eternal peace, for ‘Nirvana’?
And isn’t zero just an arbitrary point to measure others?
What appears to be real is in flux. Goal? Blind alley? Who knows?
How could Supreme Intelligance be so indifferent to the final goal?
A painter must have an idea before he starts painting a picture.
Aren’t freaks and regressions part of the universal drama?
And then, how things can evolve without resistance on the road?
We are shuffling with the shadows and vice versa.
Living matter may be designed and destroyed at will,
Evolution may move on an open road or may sprint to smash
And nature may turn against its own offspring,
Yet life will go on blossoming in myriad ways.
Can we decode the memory of a molecule?
Each atom has its past and a mirrored will, the elan vital, to go on.

As long as the Soul has the will,
Cosmos will have room enough for life to sprout and flourish.
But does a cell know the origin of its nucleus?
Can it tell who goads it on or empowers it to replace itself?
There is a mirror against mirror reflecting and replicating One to no end.
Can a centipede explain how it moves on with its hundred legs?
Each entity is dipolar and yet in itself mirrors the whole universe;
Even the inorganic realm reacts subjectively;
Then, does the same Subject permeate All?
Where everything is the Self,
Silence is the only mode of expression.
Only Soul knows the cybernetics of the Soul.

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