Blasting of the Buddha at Bamiyan

Blasting of the Buddha at Bamiyan

The Talibans blasted the Buddha at Bamiyan
Because the apostle of love and peace,
Almost intact for two millenniums,
Suddenly appeared to them a dreadful ‘kafir’ rock!
Why are people so afraid of their own roots and relics?
Aren’t all religious structures mere brick and stone?
Then why are they preserved, pampered and even fought for?

Are the devout pilgrims drawn to mere stone?
Each religion has its holy places, its rituals, symbols and scriptures —
Parameters of faith, as conceived by its saints and seers.
Is bowing before an idol different from bowing before a book?
Each layer in the foundation, each rung of the ladder deserves care.
Each present, howsoever vivacious, is destined to get senile.
And yet wrinkles may belie what vibrates beneath them.

Can you pinpoint which wave is holier than the other in the ocean?
Was mankind born to be herded and tethered to a stump?
If only one was to speak and decide for all,
Why were others gifted with speech and divine thought?
Knowledge is infinite and deep like the cosmos
And man is being beckoned by distant planets and stars.
God manifests Himself not only in galaxies but also in the quarks.

Neither a book is mere paper nor an idol is mere stone.
Can anyone be perfect and claim universal acceptance?
Beware ! Even Evil seems to be a permanent feature of existence,
As devilry itself was inherently involved in the Big Bang,
If to me it’s Om or Anhad vibrating within each quark,
To you, it may appear your own image of God.
Does it matter? Let us learn to love and tolerate for the good of All.

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Outer Shell and the Nucleus Within

Outer Shell and the Nucleus Within

Was the Big Bang a moment of conflict within the Cosmic Self?
Is the Intelligence a by-product of the initial chaos?
Is the expansive outburst of energy mere illusion?
Will matter and antimatter annihilate each other at zero hour?
How long this unsavoury dream is destined to linger?
Is matter outbalanced by antimatter or vice versa?
Is the invisible dark matter craving for pure light?
Will the frontiers of time and space roll back?
Cosmos is what the Cosmic Self is and
Man too, in his real Self, is the Supreme Creator.
Stars are born, they grow, get senile and die away;
They suck, sulk, steal and kill too.
Good and evil, cause and effect have cosmic dimensions.
Black holes bait and gulp the tiny tots.
Is it ethical to suck and swallow the matter gone astray?
From the First Dot to the expanding and contracting galaxies,
The splendid spectacle of illusion and disillusion goes on;
All is divine — energy, matter and consciousness.
Science and spirituality don’t clash; quite the contrary.
The outer shell and the nucleus within are essentially One.

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Genetic Puppets

Genetic Puppets

The nucleus of my primal cell is perfectly coded;
My past karmas arrayed my genes as I was conceived.
It’s neither Saturn nor the Mars that is combust;
It’s our DNA debilitated by our past misdeeds.
The inner Self, the knower of all our thoughts and actions,
Causes the wheels of Time to synchronize with each destiny.

The position of the planets, at the conception of a being,
Gives a specific shape to the karmically conditioned genes
Which keeps one’s life on a particular track.
Since the planets are incessantly in motion,
Not even twins, separated even by a moment,
Can have exactly same palms and same fate.

The Cosmic Law regulates each dot and each cell;
Neither a quark nor a star can wobble at will.
If stars above stir or deflect some system below,
That must have some cosmic purpose.
To square the stacks of the past sins,
The Self within makes the ‘jiva’ atone and suffer.

Myself is witness to the beginninglessness of the universe;
My destiny blossomed out of my own eternity.
As non-existent couldn’t originate from nowhere,
My own Self opted for a series of manifestations.
My present conception was a deluge of dreams;
What had already been carved, Time was to prompt and reveal.

With fate etched on my palms and the zodiac above,
I announced my arrival almost in the wilderness.
Time hammered my cravings with grave privations
And chiselled my frame from head to heel.
Lashes of miseries —  balance from the previous account —-
Cleansed my flesh of many many impurities.

When I correlate my fate with my thoughts and deeds,
I realize, not a single injury to life and nature
Goes unregistered at the cosmic web.
The cycle of reward and punishment does operate
And there is no escape from one’s nemesis.
Sinful inheritance begets retribution of the corresponding shade.

Even warnings of impending disaster,
Fail to wean us away from our sinful behaviour.
Is it some crazy gene that makes the body dance and shriek?
Or, is it some malefic planet that makes us bubble and burst?
How are our faculties roped in by the tiny genes?
And is the free will of any use to the genetic puppets?

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The Inexpressible

The Inexpressible

Death is no disintegration; it is to be quits.
It’s repaying nature what we already owe it.
All the elements go back to their origin
Whence they flourished in the airy-fairy fabric.

There is no sorrow in breaking a journey;
Bemoan the first step and the waft of luck.
The nectar of consciousness pervades the universe,
But we trail our bloated ego in a trough.

It’s not the same flame that burns the whole night,
Nor is it the same spectacle spinning above in the sky.
Energy is constant, why grieve about the change?
Soul does return in the garb of a different name.

But is it the soul that hitches a ride with matter?
Why does it discard a body in favour of the other?
What guides a soul’s journey, ‘karmas’ or destiny?
Is soul on a mission or, just on a dramatic spree?

It’s not merely eternity that eternity forms,
Time, a moment in flux also enthrals.
Spirit and matter both fuse and present a mirage,
There is no end to the ethereal, nor to the gross.

Micro and macro are relative terms;
Finite and infinite too cover each other well.
Is it possible for any one to perceive
Where do they part and where do they meet?

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Robots Moulded in Flesh

Robots Moulded in Flesh

We are robots moulded in flesh;
Capable of winking at others
While duping our own selves.
We proliferate to the seams and gasp for breath.

Coded viruses manipulate us;
We’re real but appearances dictate us;
We’re caged in quarks and shrouded in genes;
Constellations affect our thoughts and deeds.

Our range of knowledge is very finite;
Our ideals, though mercurial are very high.
We act, react, and walk well on stilts;
What if we growl and tilt at windmills?

We fight more for identity than survival;
Forgetting that all the seeds have gone mongrel!
In the crucible of Time all melt into One,
We cherish our past to adjust with the present.

Who is our Programmer? We know not a bit;
We seem to have been conceived in a fit;
When fears haunt us, we rush to dreams;
When courage fails, we sink in requiems.

We can peep back into billions of years;
But can’t solve the mystery that surrounds us;
Nor can we cancel our termination, nor delay;
Such is our life and such is our fate!

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The Indecipherable Chip

The Indecipherable Chip

Trillion trillion years ago, it was all compact One;
Stars and space, mind and matter, spectacle of galaxies,
Miracles and mirages, light and dark,
Resonance, dissonance, quietude and storms,
All the energy fissioned by the flux of the Unitary Moment,
Compulsions that expand, compress and round the cosmos,
Power that integrates and disintegrates a quark,
And that which conceives the void with all the dimensions,
All was harmoniously compressed into One !
After a Brahmical lull, the Power Supreme, with a silent Bang,
Gave the elements a spin round Infinity.
Atoms jubilantly jumbled and juggled to create Life —
As if it were not already there!
However, Life gave itself out via spatial evolution.
It downloaded consciously and intelligently bits of all sorts
And revealed spectacularly complex patterns.
The Divine Chip took its time to arrange and rearrange the elements
To manifest Itself to perfection, close to Self.
Being all-embracing and all-pervasive,
It compounded all that was bright and all that was dark,
Along with the intermediate and intricate shades;
Revelled in paradoxes, in rhythm and chaos,
Processing through the centre — and centre followed it everywhere –
It mirrored the perfect whole in each quark.
Thus the universe got a fillip the echo of which
Ever reverberates through Time and Space.
What a wonderful world created by the Indecipherable Chip!

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