The Good life

Too much remains to be understood,

Too much remains to be realized.

Seldom you are so lucky,

seldom do you realize,

That you have it all, wherewithal 

To live ...that 'good life'.

It depends on what you have

not what you don't

Many say it is the luxury,

For most it is wealth,

For diseased it is health.

For ugly it is the beauty

For the crooked it is straight

For life is what not death

Everyone searches for that one good magical state

Some went around the world

Asking what is it which gives that 'good life'

Strange to me it was

Nobody had the answer

What does it take to have that ‘good life’?

Came of sudden an old gypsy man,

And declared I am time I wait for none.

I am with everyone but no one's for certain

I am gypsy, I travel with no boundaries and halts

It's me who determines the good life which everyone sought.

For on death bed realizes every one,

Time is required for gaining health,

For creating relationships and wealth.

Time is needed to admire the beauty,

 To love and give it back.

It takes time my friend

So take time to live...that one good life!©
                                                                

Because it is a Sunday

                                          Usually I am up at least by 6 in the morning but it being Sunday ,I was just lying in the bed wondering whether to sleep for some more time or get going.The unexpected good morning message from an employee some how trickled a motion of thoughts in my mind.Traversing back into time as to how every Sunday used to be a day  to eagerly wait for and cherish every moment of it.
                      It was much later in adulthood that I learned that the solution to all miseries lies in being present in the very moment and not to think too much i.e., worrying about future.The trick being to live the present perfectly as it is a present given by life to all of us.
                     I can look back and say now that my childhood Sundays have been my perfect present moments.I can remember moments of joy and sorrow and for that matter even mundane things as well,mainly because they were Sundays.'Sunday' sounds music to ears ,day of the 'Sun',day when as a child we used to sweat out in the Sun claiming our share of Sun dance.

                                     Usually the day would start by getting up a little late than usual because one needed to reiterate the fact that it was a Sunday and that there is no 7 am school . After having milk/tea and biscuits arose the million dollar question about what to have for breakfast whether bread sandwiches or bhel or noodles every food item  seemed luxury then as we were strictly on a diet of home cooked healthy food. A diversion was much welcome change and Sunday was the day for it to happen.Followed by television serials of Shaktimaan etc., and then whole day of play till evening or late night in summer holidays.Till 10 years of age, it was mostly in home ,in courtyard and television set,with teenage coming it became more of an exercise to venture outside. being out of home whole day.It was internet cafes ,the empowering bicycle and discussion over cricket matches as well as playing in the mohalla team.
                          The  18th year of life saw Sundays becoming the test days.There used to be practice tests for the upcoming board and engineering entrance examinations.Being busy beacame the norm,in college again the classes for MBA entrance were on Sundays but with a bike and in a different city away from family life became what I could make of it from my limited exposure,but then it was empowering and a feeling of being at the top top the world.Being occupied with teenage emotions and the constant upheaval of emotions.It is really difficult then to control oneself and some mistakes do happen.May be one should not call them mistakes ,may be one can think them of as the learning curves.I  laugh at it now,about being so innocent and completely drenched in a feeling for somebody.Nobody can describe it but everyone has experienced it.Sometimes running after someone sometimes running from!
                            Life,I feel has again put me in a position where I am living my experiences of the early Sundays of my conscious life.Now I look forward to the company of my family.I want them around me.I feel the need for emotional talks,sharing and showing affection for each other ,possible only with close friends and family.We all have our share of mistakes,we feel bad about things we have done to ourselves and others in turn to others.Now I try to use Sundays to reflect back on problems and solutions, quiet mornings for expressing gratitude and meditating my existence.Sunday is an opportunity to engage with oneself meaningfully.It will again change with time ,change is what is constant.I just would want myself to be mindful of how it is changing and that the change is for better.Still the philosophy remains same,Sunday has a special place in the week.One realizes it after spending three weekends on  work , because I had too recently.Enjoy the Sunday!

Evening musings.

                                           

Havelock Island

On an evening like this,

I feel the time should stop

That there should be a moment of silence,

That there should be no feeling of loss.

That the breeze touching my face,

The truest fragrance in this air,

The sounds of crickets, so noblest and clear.

The dark night and the moon

creating a silhouette out of the mount.

I gaze through the window

At this site so enchanting,

Tapping into one’s truest expressions

Losing the sense of time.

But there is a sense of loss,

The dryness in expressions,

And the mechanical talks.

A feeling being away from the truth,

The feeling of not being integral,

When the soul is agitated, and

Anxiety gripping the soul,

Slowly one gets trained,

To live like a machine in chains...

I felt like an instrument, being used,

 A means towards an end.

I search for the meaning of all this in time,

watching nature as it expresses the divine

Hoping it slows down,

to let me  have a look within myself and

 discover what I really seek.

The Ego fusion.

@Sikkim

In mornings I come across the thoughts like bruises and balms.

The mistakes I made, the wrongs I said

They dawn upon me, in musings of mornings.

Just to confirm that they have me.

And I struggle with them, argue with them

But seldom are they ready to admit that I had been sane.

That it was not my fault, not my thought to be a bigot.

Just like them are these balming moments of joy

They come from within and leaves a smile on my face

 just like the butter spreads on bread.

I love both of them, for it is what I have been

 cunning, careless and demanding sometimes,

But also honest, helpful, and supporting.

I think now not to resist 
because they exist out of my indulgence,

My faults and compulsions, from the generosity and at times altruisms.

In the mornings I make peace with them,

not to resist but to co-exist with them.

Because it's the light of the Sun,

that Pierces through oneself.

To distinguish the selfish & selfless,

And understand the underlining unrest.

It’s when most of us are lost in denial,

To settle down within is what matters.

                                                         
                                              

An allegory of love.

@Haflong,Assam

Mountains and clouds

Layers one beyond another.

Seem to me in conversations

Of deep joy, serenity and friendship.

The cloud moves, with the windy airs, laughing in the sun's glare.

The mountain admires her for snowy feathers and the occasional wistful stares.

Mountain wait to hear the cloud's impatient outbursts and

sometimes cringes when she's moody and treats him impaired.

The trees, flowers, shrubs request the mountain to make up,

That the cloud is pretty, make her stay for us,

They say,

when you two meet, and she stays over that's the time

We remember the rains poured the night over and

the rainbow announced what had happened in the night's gown.

Mountain longing for the cloud's company

Waits to hear her voice, and requests the wind to slow down.

But for cloud, he is just one among many on the ground.

Onetime, he had helped, consoled her and she had cried in his arms to free herself of worries and doubts.

That was the day the rainbow described and the affair, the trees, and shrubs ascribed.

The mountain admires the cloud,

But is aware of his groundedness.

He waits for the cloud that will come to stay on its own, with him.

Not on a windy day or a dark night with nobody to go,

But for the one who chooses to stay for days and nights.

For he knew a cloud exists,

who will help him let loose his inhibitions,

where conversations will last generations.

Who will assure him when in doubt?

Mountain unassuming, caring for his family of the green shroud,

waits for his companion cloud.

And I stand admiring him from the corner of this window.

How he lets go, with stillness and no desire to hold...
 A lesson I learned looking through my window.

@Haflong,Assam

                                        

An ode to Shimla

@Shimla Academy

On this lazy and hazy Sunday morning,

I see you wrapped in colors so beautiful and enchanting.

I take your breath inside of me, for your deep sighs and

the ever-changing expressive eyes are melting the ice inside of me.

I want to hold you closer, for I know you are too deep to be understood in just an encounter.

I want to experience your mornings, you appear so fresh then,

but never to miss your evenings for you are equally playful then.

So let me confess, I have fallen for you,

for seldom one may come across someone, so beautiful and true like you.

Thee know we all make mistakes, some just happen, but some are there to be endeared.

So please understand even if it doesn't appear, for I being me it's always hard to convey the deepest inhibitions.

But on this lazy and hazy Sunday morning, I have to confess you got me talking.

The touch of your slender fingers caressing my hair, the deep gaze of your eyes has touched something unknown inside me,

My mistakes my imperfections now seem a reflection of the very soul so human

To know thy beauty is in thou imperfections,

and the graceful ways of your expression.

To witness a mural so natural and enchanting. 

For I thank thee my dear to make me understand

how simple it is to keep it simple,

that beauty is so individual, each having her own form and expression.

Imperfections are now what I look to adore, a view into the heart and the untouched soul.

I thank thee for pushing my hand into writing these vows in this lazy and hazy Sunday morning.
               
                                                                      

@Shimla

                                                                                  

Reflections by the river side.

@ Spiti District, Himachal Pradesh

Strong and tough, rough yet beautiful,

Sounds unclear, indistinct yet soulful.

A design in the chaos, A pattern in the fusion,

A just demonstration about, the nothingness of forms and perfection.

It’s just the water that flows, the wind that blows,

the playfulness of the mountain and the clouds.

Just that it is changing throughout,

This change in every moment, speaks aloud

That No moment here is ordinary….

That every moment here is divine and extraordinary.

That there is nothing as a refuge, or recluse.

But that I and you are a part of this moment,

which is changing as I speak to you.

It is 'now' that I write these lines,

It will be 'now' when I will utter these lines.

I know now sitting by this flowing water, inhaling this fresh wind

That one needs to be in the moment for no moment is ordinary.

And you say embrace ... everything, everyone.

your flow, your glow

In the twilight now, I hear you.

Weren’t you whispering all this time to me!
With the onset of darkness, I leave now with sparkle inside me.