Dreams, journey's, love and Death.... Life I love.

Welcome to the 7th edition of “Shadow Dancing with Mind” 

Dreams, journeys and love … and Death…. Some times all these together become a part of being just a Hope and some times it’s only an imposter. Time moves on and with it people change and I hope that this change that is happening all around is positive. Stars shine in the sky, flowers flower in the heart and it looks all is well in the world. But then most of the times I miss her voice and face. , life I love.

So the "Whispers" takes you to the dreams, imposter hope and love and longing. There is a beautiful poetry from Yevgeny Yevtushenko “ You are great in love” and a dream of Shiva and Unconditional love.

The untold story “Yogi Baba” goes into a flash back with Vashudha this time to her old village where she comes of age.

"Still life" captures the people some times on the road some times by the river side.

The Reader: I have been hearing lots of yoga practices from lot of my friends so thought of actually providing an insight to the real Yoga which was given to us by Patanjali in his Yoga Sutras. So if you are interested in knowing about Yoga and the thought behind the practices, please scroll down to read it.

The wander lust: A new section where I am thinking of sharing my travels across the country, mainly on spiritual journeys and there is nothing better than to start from Lord Buddha. So join me in my travel to Buddha’s final resting place and a beautiful poetry shared by Anne in the Face Book.

Hope you like this edition of Shadow Dancing with Mind; look forward to seeing your comment this week too. I really appreciate when you write to me or leave me comments here. It gets me going, week by week. Please feel free to join in and suggest if something that you don’t like.

Om Namah Shivaya

YOGI BABA: A Story Untold - Beginning of 7th Chapter

Chapter 7

The village was sleeping after a long exhausting day in the field. The evening enveloped, within a few moments of sun surrendering itself to the western horizon, the mud houses, the tall Bunyan tree and the silently flowing river near by. In the eastern India, specially in the winters, sun prefers to go to sleep, before the chilly winds unleash their biting cold on the shivering masses huddled around the small fires in front of their huts. Within hour or so, most of the village folks have had their dinner of few rotis along with chilly, onion and garlic paste sprinkled with salt and lemon. Lucky few houses in the village also have some vegetable stew to go around with it or the affluent ones in the pucca houses savor Daal (pulses) and mutton or chicken curry. After an early dinner, the villagers tend to the live stock, ensured that there is enough of smoldering fire around them to fend off the mosquitoes by its smoke and give some relative warmth. Some of them are served the tender leaves of Corn Stalk to eat over the night. And after all this is done and every livestock is comfortable and happily chewing away the nightfall, the people hurry inside the house to sleep off their own exhaustion of the day. But the sleep has not taken the house of Vashudha, in her loving arms. There was a general excitement in the house as Vashudha’s father, Vaibhav Dutt Tiwari, was coming to the village after many years. As per the last report of Hariya, (the handy man in the house), he has already reached the train station - a whistle stop, 7 KMs away. Only few minutes back Hariya had come running with the news, who met the Bullock Cart to pick him up on the way back from the market. In most the villages in eastern India, Bullock cart is the most suitable transport system that can move through ditches, paddy fields and knee deep water left from the last flood, few months back.

In the house there was general sense of urgency and excitement in the house; the Grandma was personally supervising the dinner that is getting ready by one of the favorite friend of Vashudha’s, Lalita, among all the household workers. While she was lazing around the house with one of the few books she has brought from her house in Delhi and listening to the radio with a soft song in lilting voice of Lata Mangeshkar, voice of India, she could hear the buzz around the house. Many of the villagers have gathered around her Grandfather, sitting on a rocking chair in the verandah at the enterance of the house, as he was recounting how many houses, cars and factories his son Vaibhav has in Delhi. Vashudha’s house was the only brick and concrete house in the village with the privilege of having the electricity. At one point of time, this was the only house having electricity, besides the houses in the town, Mallaraj, 32 KM’s away. Her grandfather was a prominent Land lord of the area and was considered to be the political heir of his cousin brother, Brahma Dutt Maharaj, a member of parliament, who lived in the town.

Vashudha was not surprised that her mother is not coming along with her father, to take her back to home, as she knew that she never really had time for her. She was busy making a prominent life in the social circle of Delhi and had too many friends, lavish parties and travelling to exotic locales to actually spare time thinking of her. She had provided a battery of servants to take care of her, a good governace for her to be socially fit for rich life that she had planned in her mind and a good boarding school that used to take care of her most of the growing year. But still Vashudha always had to fend for herself, since the time she started going to the school and could tie her shoe laces. Slowly she was gotten more comfortable among the servants, Drivers and house maids than standing in front of her mother, trying to catch her one smile or one word or her one look. But her mother never had those moments for her as she was hoarding all that for her friends, her parties and her journeys. Vashudha always felt alone in the house, whenever she used to come on her holidays from the school. So in the last few years, the longer summer holidays she had fought with her parents and ensured that she visits her grandma’s house in the village. Slowly these visits to her grandma and the huge house in the village became the most interesting periods and parts of her growing up. She was sad this time to leave this house and not really very happy that her father is on the way to take her back to Delhi tomorrow.

As she started thinking about her days, she felt herself smiling. She has had the most amazing time in this visit. She was the life of the fun, she and few of her friends in the village had over the years on her regular two months vacations spend along with her grandpa and grandma. Her daily routine was a mix of fun, troubles, fights or making a mess in the groves etc. After waking up, she spent most of her morning time working out the details of her days exploits. By the middle of the morning her friends will start coming in, many of them, after delivering the lunch for their parents or brothers working in the field around the village. She loved roaming in the nearby mango grove and as usually she was there for the mango season, the trees will be loaded with mangos. So from one tree to another, the whole gang of her friends will scamper up and down. Leaning on the branches and shaking it to get the ripe mangos fall on the ground for a breakfast or plucking the raw mango for making a sweet and sour salad mixed with salt and red chilly, which was her favorite eat. Some of the times after generally compete with the monkeys, that were around the grove, in making a general mess, she would lead the party of her friends to the nearby river for a bath. This tributary to Gandak river was not deep so they have a natural swimming pool with few wooden boats tied on the bank. So, jumping from the bank into the river, in one long line of boys and girls, taking the boat out in the middle and shaking it by putting feets on the either sides edges of the boat, to almost capsizing it, or racing to reach other side of the river among themselves were the most enjoyable part of the bath. After the bath, she would usually join in one of the boy or girl to the house and have whatever is available to eat along with them, sitting on the floor. After the lunch, a trip to barn, where the whole gang will laze around the cows and animals. Some of the times, she would pick up the new born calf in her arms, and run around the field trying to catch the mother to feed them. By the end of the day, the whole village will be reeling under the gangs mischiefs and destruction. 

Amid all this, she had her 13^th birthday, few weeks back, when her Grandfather allowed her to get all her friends from the village and generally made the mess of the whole house, by running all over and playing the whole day within the house as there were guests from town too. As confined to the house, she engaged herself and her gang in one of her favorite game – the Dark room. Her room in the house was a huge one and once you close all the doors and windows, it becomes quite dark, that you can not see anything. So in the game of dark room, one has to find all the persons hidden in the darkness, who usually move about, changing place to avoid getting caught. When one of her friend from the town, a boy few months older than her, took the turn to catch the people hidden, his fingers touched her. The touch felt like a sweet sensation, rising in her body. It opened her feelings in a different way, which she has not experienced ever before. After thinking and reliving that experience for few days and trying to realise that again with her friends around the village, she confided in her favorite friend in the house Lalita. She was a older than her by few years so she knew what it was and she explained Vashudha about this touch and why a touch from some one can bring one close to such a feeling of ecstasy, and how to sustain that feeling over long periods. Most of it Vashudha did not understand but from that day onwards she actively tried to find that happiness with her friends, unknown to them…

To be Continued…

THE READER: The basis of all yoga practices in the world...

I have been going through lot of intersting stuff claiming to be Yoga, including hot yoga, power yoga, chilly yoga, cat yoga, 10+1 yoga, one on one yoga etc. You think of words what you can and there will be an yoga by that name in the west and now its happening in India too. My wife is currently doing "Power Yoga", my brother advised me to start with some stylish dance yoga as I enjoy dancing but I am sure there is some one doing that, if not in India, atleast in west.
After thoroughly getting distraught with this kind of things I dusted off my book of Patanjali's Yoga Sutra and read it again with a view to share some important points with you, so that you, my friends, are atleast aware of what actually yoga is all about. So here I am producing some of the very important sutra's of Patanjali's "Yoga Sutra's" translated from Sanskrit with commentary by SHYAM RANGANATHAN. I have chosen this one book and translation becuase it touched me more. 

PATANJALI'S "YOGA SUTRA"

In the Yoga Sutra, the word primarily stands for meditation or austerities of the mind and secondarily for physical austerities. In Katha Upanishad, the oldest Upanishad to deal with yoga (5BCE), the definition is given as a restraint of the mind and the holding back of the senses. (II.vi.10-11)

Patanjali’ notion that self knowledge is meditated has many implications. If self can only know itself through nature, the self can also misunderstood itself through nature.. Yoga for Patanjali is our effort to make Nature into our shape so that we can know ourselves. This basically means that if we wish to undo our false understanding, we must work with Nature. And since our false understanding is mediated through a turbulent and confused mind, we need to look to the rules of the mind – that is psychology. Patanjali is perhaps first proponent of psychoanalysis. For Patanjali, our pathologies are a result of Samskara-s or tendency – impressions that we acquire from past actions and reactions in light of experiences. If we wish to overcome present pathologies, we need to trace back our Samskara-s to their historical root and abandon events of the type that caused our trauma from our personal narrative, (Yoga Sutra II.7 – 14). Realizing this that its easier said than done, Patanjali provides a broad system and several practical strategies to aid the practitioner overcome their Samskara, including the eight limbs of Yoga.

One can down load the Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra’s at the following place, but here I have listed some of the thoughts and sutra’s that caught my imagination. I am listing them out as the Sutra Nos in the brackets and then the english pronunciations and then the basic meaning. After that some of the Sutra's I have elaborated taking commentaries from Shyam Ranganathan.

Book 1 – Samadhi Pada

(2)  Yogas-citti-vritti-nirodhah

Yoga is the control of the (moral) character of thought.

(5) vrttayah pancatayyah klistaklistah

There are five characters of thought -  some afflicted some not afflicted

(6) Pramanam-viprayaya-vikalpa-nidra-smrtayah

The five epistemic states are; Knowledge, Illusion, verbal delusion, sleep and memory.

(11) Anubhuta-visayasampramosah smrtih

Memory is the prevention of loss of experienced content

For Patanjali, memory is not a passive affair but a result of active effort of the person to hold on to or retain past experiences as part of self understanding. Patanjali later in the Yoga Sutra’s explains that our karmic dispositions (Dispositions to act and manifest life experiences), are barely distinguishable from memories and thus form one category of phenomenon. THIS IS IMPORTANT. It implies that we put effort into defining ourselves through past events that we hold on to, and thus we can also thereby renounce our connection to fixations, attachments and traumas, and REDEFINE ourselves.

(12)Abhyasa-vairagyabhyam tan nirodhah

Continuous endeavor and non-attachment are both required to constrain that (i.e  mentality or memory)

IN order to sever the cord with past events that we carry around with us as an emotional and karmic baggage, we must continuously strive to check it and also attempt to detach ourselves from all that is related to it. This is important; for if memory is a result of our effort, it would seem that we could easily disown memory by ceasing to hold on to it. Patanjali reminds us that it is not so easy to do away with memory. According to Patanjali, we form memories and Samskara as a result of our reactions to the past experiences. This formation sets up psychological disposition that mature in time, to which we react again, often reinforcing the original memory and Samskara. To practice yoga is to constrain the turbulence of mind and to bring it into line with our transcendent nature. When we practice yoga, we dictate terms under which our mind shall operate. Failing this, we play our part in pathological patterns that we reaffirm by setting up and not resisting the feedback mechanism that aid in the retention of past experiences. Failure to take full control of our mind, we are nonetheless complicit in the pathologies of our mind, for we facilitate our pathologies through our reactions to feedback mechanism and stimuli. For this reason, memory is something we do, as previous sutra noted, but its not something that we always do in our best interest. Our long term interest is in setting up resistance to the forces of the mind and the practical means of doing this is the substance of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra.

(13) tatra sthitau yatnobhyasah

Abiding (in the true nature of the self) is the result of wills determination to stay in that stillness.

(14) Sa tu dirgha-kala-nairantarya-satkarasevito drdha-bhumih

(The abiding is) verily procured when it is cultivated assiduously for a long time without interruption, and with reverence for it is then resolute and grounded.

(17) Vitarka-vicaranandasmita-rupanugamat samprajnatah

The cognitive stat4e focusing on the single object (for example, the person) can be brought about by logical analysis, introsp3ctive inquiry, bliss or the keen awareness of individuality.

According to this Sutra, it is possible for some one to be in a state of engrossment with one’s true self as a result of philosophical debate, introspections, a good feeling or attention to one’s individuality. Some call it Samadhi but according to Patanjali its not.

(21) tivra-samveganam-asannah

(Success in yoga is ) near for those who are intense.

(27) Tasya vacakah pranavah

The syllable “OM” is its significator.

This tells us that Sacred Mantra OM refers to Isvara

(28) taj-japas-tad-artha- bhavanam

through repetition, the meaning of OM comes to life

The meaning of OM comes to live in our lives, thus allowing Isvara to be our teacher.

(29) Tatah pratyak-cetanadhigamo’pyantarayabhavas-ca

Hence (one is lead) inward to the knowledge of consciousness, intelligence and volition (the characteristics of Purusa), and also the nullification of the impediments to that knowledge.

Submitting to Isvara has a particular effect, according to Patanjali, it redirects our attention from external matters to knowledge of the three characteristics of the purusas – captured in the Sanskrit term Cetna – which are consciousness, intelligence and volition. It also has the effect of getting rid of impediments to knowledge.

The person have free will is significant, for it means that they are not only responsible for their present state of bondage, but they have the power to become free under the right conditions too.

(32) Tat-pratisedhartham eka-tattvabhyasah

One can avoid the significance of these obstacles (to the practice of Yoga) by the implementation of just one of the following truths.

With this sutra, Patanjali gives seven sutra, for the remedy to the obstacles to the practice of yoga, which is as given below.

(33) Maitri-karuna-muditopeksanam sukha-dukha-punyapunya-visayanam bhavanatas-citta-prasadanam

Mentality brightens,and gets to be of a serene disposition and good humor, when one takes on an attitude of friendliness towards the pleasantm of compassion for those who suffer, of joy for the meritorious, and of equanimity towards the unmeritorious.

First consists of four practices: friendliness, compassion, joy and equanimity

(34) Pracchardana-vidharanabhyam va pranasya

Or by the expulsion and retention of breath – Pranayam

(35) visyavati va pravrttir-utpanna manasah sthiti-nibandhani

By binding the mind into stillness to observe the contents of the mind as they arise.

(36) Visoka va jyotismati

By setting the heart on being luminescent and free from sorrow. (Be positive)

(37) Vitragavisayam na cittam

By thoughts free from objects of desire

(38) Svapana-nidra-jnanalambanam va

By insights gained from sleep and dream states

(39) yathabhimata-dhyanad-va

Or in the manner of deep spiritual meditation upon a spiritual symbol or object that one find agreeable.

Book II

(1) Tapas svadhyayesvara-pranidhanani kriya-yogah

Action in yoga consists of penance, study (of the Vedas or self) and surrendering to the Lord

Yoga consists of three general practices: Tapas, Svadhyaya and Isvara Pranidhana

(7) Sukhanusayi ragah

Attachment is a residue of pleasant experience

(11) Dhyana-heyas-tad-vrttayah

Thoughts of these (attachments and aversions) can be abandoned through meditation or a spiritual character (Dhyana)

Patanjali has a very realistic view of the promise of psychoanalysis. He believes that to deal with lingering effects of past trauma, one should resort to meditation of a spiritual character like Isvara or any native spiritual practice

(12) Klesa-mulah kramasayo drstadrsta-janma-vedaniyah

Root of affliction is past action. It’s latent, seen or unseen, and stays with us through births in the form of experiences that produce further karma.

If we wish to be rid of our present afflictions, we must find a way to sever the root that nourishes such afflictions, and yoga is the means.

(29) Yama-niyamsana-pranayama-pratyahara- dharana-dhyana-samadhayo’stav-angani

The eight limbs of yoga are:

            1) Moral conduct

            2) Observance

            3) Posture

            4) Control of breath

            5) Withdrawal of the sense from their objects

            6) Fixed Concentration

            7) Abstract spiritual meditation, and

            8) Trance states of absolute absorption

WANDERLUST: Kushinagar - The final resting place of Buddha

I have been going over to the Kushinagar since my childhood, which is the final resting place for Lord Buddha. My ancestral village is located just around 23 KM from Kushinagar. But the last time in 2009, Nov, it was a trip to relive the special places that have taken roots in my psyche since childhood. So please join with me for a day of meditation and internalizing the most benign presence of Lord Buddha at this Parinirvana Temple of Buddha at Kushinagar. Before we start the journey let me give you a small back ground on the place and its historical importance.

In ancient times, Kushinagar was known as Kushavati. It finds mention in epic Ramayana as the city of Kusha the son of Rama, the famous king of Ayodhya. Kushinagar was a celebrated center of the Malla kingdom of ancient India. Later, it would be known as Kushinara, one of the most important four holy sites for Buddhists. At this location, near the Hiranyavati River, Gautama Buddha attained Parinirvana (or 'Final Nirvana') after falling ill from eating a meal of a species of mushroom. Many of the ruined stupas and viharas here date back to 3rd century BCE - 5th century CE when prosperity was at its peak. The Mauryan emperor Ashoka is known to have contributed to significant construction at this site. Prior to its rediscovery in the 19th century, there was a silence of more than half a millennium at Kushinagar. Due to violent invasions, Kushinagar lost its vitality and eventually was neglected.

Every year, in my school college days, we used to spend our summer vacations in our ancestral village and one of the highlights of those summer vacation used to be, a visit to this temple of Lord Buddha. My grandfather had an Ayurvedic Medicine practice in a town known as Padrauna near by, and atleast once during our summer vacations, he used to take us to the Kushinagar which was known to us as plain Kasia. One of our cousin sisters used to stay in Kushinagar and on our way to the temple we used to have breakfast at her house and then later, on return trip, lunch. But this last visit to Kushinagar was about my spiritual journey hence I had decided to spend one full day among those tall sal trees, taking in all the energy I could get from the place.

As a day earlier there was a ritual Puja performed at our ancestral Durga Temple in my village and then later in the night, we have had the local singers performing Kirtan, hence me and my relative Vicky (who had graciously agreed to join me for the trip) had trouble waking up early next day.. but anyhow we were on our way to Kushinagar at around 7AM in the chilly winter morning on Vicky’s bike. In the plains of north, the winter can be quite biting especially if you are travelling on a two wheeler. Though we were all bundled up in layers of clothes still I could find Vicky shivering once in while as the chilly wind kept on hitting him in full force from the unprotected front, as he was driving. Slowly we got accustomed to the cold wind hitting the face and I could open my eyes despite cold salty liquid (Well I could not call them tears) running down from my eyes, vertically towards my ears. Once I was out of these distractions, I realise that travelling on the country side is much more interesting if you are on a bike. The country side gives a very different perspective when not enclosed in the relative comfort of a car as well as watching the fields unfolding through the limitation of the car’s windows. The fields around us were more alive, more green, which brought the beauty of the fields in the sharp contrast of the chilly winds that tore through our warm clothes.

As it was bound to happen, crossing various ditches, travelling on the margins of the fields and jumping in and out of pot holes, our bike broke down by the time we crossed our first stop around 6 KMs from our village. From there it was one KM of bike pushing, walking to reach some place which has some kind of tools to mend the bike. When finally we reached a make shift garage, sun was smiling in its place and I went around finding some tea and breakfast for us while Vicky attended to the bike.

By the time, we reached Kushinagar, the town was coming to life, people were on the roads, going from their homes to school, colleges or to work. Many of the pilgrims were on their way to Lord Buddha’s place too. Since this is a major pilgrim center of Buddhism, it has found patrons from many south East Asian countries like Japan, Thailand, Myanmar, china etc. Most of the pilgrims come from the far off places and to take care of this growing population of tourist, the city boasts of many good places to stay. There was a proposal to connect this city with Air Corridor but still nothing much has happened on that, though Govt has made this as a District Headquarters instead of much more populated town nearby – Padrauna.

You realise that you are entering Buddha’s place with a serene but not very well kept Buddha Statue, as you leave the high road and take a right turn under a large “Welcome” Arch. But within few 100 feets, the environment changes and you can feel that there is little bit more calmness in the air and peace hanging around you as you search for the gate to the Nirvana Sthal. The moment you enter the garden that surrounds the Buddha’s final resting place, you are welcomed by a magnificent site of old brick ruins and in the middle of it, the Parinirvana temple and Parinirvana Stupa. In the morning sun, it looks so beautiful that as the sun rays gets reflected on the dome, leaving a golden hue mixed with the beautiful cream color of the paint. The sight simply refreshed me and I sat down to take in the view before entering the temple. The sound of birds, the gentle breeze weaving in and out of the tree leaves, the sunrays filtering through the trees and some children, playing around created a very interesting mix of peace and beauty. How beautiful it would have been 2500 years ago, here when Buddha used to stay with his Bhikshu’s among the dense forest of Sal Trees… and the river Hiranyavati nearby, that has now almost become a trickle, adding its own flow to the life around this place. Prior to his death, Buddha has visited many times to Kushinagar. The Mallas of Kusinárá were always great admirers of the Buddha, even though not all of them were his followers, and on the occasion of one visit they decided that any inhabitant of Kusinárá who failed to go and meet the Buddha and escort him to the city, would be fined five hundred. During some of these visits the Buddha stayed in a wood called Baliharana, and there he preached two of the Kusinárá Suttas and the "Kinti" Sutta. A third Kusinárá Sutta he preached while staying at Upavattana. All this happenings of the ages back played on in my mind, like a flash back, while sitting there and catching my breath and my thoughts.

Slowly I got up to enter the temple. The bricks that lined the place has its own aura or charm I should say. It’s a special feeling, when you tread the same path that you know that many of great souls have tread before you and if your heart is open, you can feel the energy that surrounds you while you walk among the ruins of the Bhikshu settlements as you reach the temple. One can actually hear the soothing hum of the chanting, the clank of the brass cymbals and some times the echoes of the bell.

The inside of the temple takes your breath away as you are welcomed by the serene face of sleeping Buddha, who look at you with his close eyes, trying to reach out to you. That large sleeping statue is all that you see first, draped in yellow silk and then slowly your eyes get accustomed to the surrounding which is very simple. There were few pilgrims in the temple, by the time I reached there and one of the Japanese monks was carrying video camera to record his well deserved visit. The next thing that hits you is the exposed feets of Buddha and invariably I have sat near his feets in almost all my visits. It’s more soothing there I think and I get out my chanting beads to chant the Mantra. After some time in the temple, I did my round around the sleeping Buddha at His final rest and then slowly walk out with a little bit of heavy heart, as it has never been easy for me to be at the place, where a break has been made. I could feel what those Bhikshu’s would have been going through at the time of Buddha’s Parinirvana, whatever one has conditioned him /her self to accept the loss.

Out side on the garden, there are many other places to visit but I restrict myself to going over to a large bell donated by Sri Lanka and on that platform I sat down in meditation. As I had planned to spend the whole day there, I made myself comfortable and asked Vicky to go and find for himself lunch as it was getting to be afternoon… later on, I wandered around the place and settled myself under a large tree and lost myself in my meditation, chanting and thoughts.

Now, here’s a Mary Oliver’s poem: which is so lovely that I wanted to share it here with all of you. This was posted on a poetry group at Face Book. Thanks Anne Smile for allowing me to post this here.

Spring
______

This morning

two birds

fell down the side of the maple tree

like a tuft of fire

a wheel of fire

a love knot

out of control as they plunged through the air

pressed against each other

and I thought

how I meant to live a quite life

how I meant to live a life of mildness and meditation

tapping the careful words against each other

and I thought

—as though I were suddenly spinning like a bar of silver

as though I had shaken my arms and lo! they were wings—

of the Buddha

when he rose from the green garden

when he rose in his powerful ivory body

when it turned to the long dusty road without end

when he covered his hairs with ribbons and the petals of flowers

when he opened his hands to the world

______________

Mary Oliver

Shared by Anne Smile from the Poetry group "Whispers" in the Face Book.

(click here to join in the group "Whispers" if you like)

Om Padme Namah

Now I leave you with some images from a beautiful temple of Buddha, made by Myanmar next to the Parinirvana Temple.

The lions guarding the entrance to the Myanmar Temple

The Monday Buddha on the periphery of the Myanmar temple wall

The Myanmar Temple near Parinirvana Temple at Kushinagar

WHISPERS: Love, Dreams and Imposter Hope

Hope is just an imposter

_______________

I dream of her

She dreams of togetherness

I hope its me

_______

Om Namah Shivaya

Unconditional Love
_______________
I love you
Not because of you
But because of me
Not because of your beauty
But because I am beautiful

I love you
Not because you need my love
but because I need my loving you

I love you
Not because yesterday or day before yesterday
But from ages
From many life times
Your soul and mine
Loved not you or me
But each other's togetherness in the heart

We have

Lived and died
On the banks of eternal river of various lives
On the clouds of moon lights
Among stars and its sunshine
Among the sea and its high tides
In each other's heart.
_______________

Om Namah Shivaya

Shiva in My Dreams

_________________

I have seen serpents
Running over your skin

Playing in your hair locks

Bathing from the rivulets of holy river ganges

That run down from your head

And then some one told me

That its me

Now I find them leaving you

and running across my blood

Slithering in and out of my blood vessels

Touching my senses

In cold touch

I have them making me feel

Gripped in coils

While my mind writhes

In shudders

Of coiled tightness

Of my life

Day in and day out 

Love

I find you

Probing my senses

with your flickering tongue

______________________

Om Namah Shivaya

Die another Death

________________

Inside you

I die thousand deaths

Every time I don’t find you in my thoughts.

My love,

I spread myself in whole of the sky

Stake me with tall deodar trees

And I die thousand deaths

Inside me, there is a person

Willing to lie

To let you know that I am what I am

But not what I can be

And cry.

And you know my love

That person is not me

But I suspect its you

In my heart who is willing to die

To let me live

A thousand lives

Alone and hurt

Bleeding and blunt

No emotions and no feelings

Just a stone statue,

Where we loved

That we loved

That first day

And that we hugged

  

Why?

Why it has to be spread so thin

Thick in our love

That it has become so transparent

It hides nothing

It holds nothing

It does not even promise an eternity

But just our hurt feeling

And missed chances to be one

Why my love

You are so far away

To be loved

Even when you are just sleeping next to me

Why….?

_____________________

Om Namah Shivaya

Today is the birthday of Yevgeny Yevtushenko (July 18,1931- ), who was Russia's most popular poet in 1960's, often attracting thousands to his readings and has written more than forty books of poetry. His poetry was some of the first to overtly criticize Stalin. He has been politically active through his life, even serving in the first freely elected parliament of the USSR from 1988 to 1991. I was touched by this poetry from him so thought of reproducing it here.

You are great in love

____________________

You are great in love

                                        You are bold

My every step is timid.

I will do nothing bad to you,

but can hardly do you any good.

It seems you are

                                     leading me

Off the beaten path through a forest

Now we're up to our waist in wildflowers

I don't even know

                                                       what flowers they are

Past experience is of no help here.

I dont know

                                                  what to do or how.

You are tired.

                                                                    You ask to be carried in my arms

Already you are in my arms.

"Do you see

                                                how blue the sky is?

Do you hear

                                                     what birds in the forest?

Well, what are you waiting for? 

                                                     well?

                                                                                     Carry me then!"

And where shall I carry you?...

_____________________

Yevgeny Yevtushenko (July 18,1931- )

Translated by Albert C Todd

Submitted to One Shot Wednesday Week 14

Click here to read other great poets or add your own.

STILL LIFE : On the road, by the river

By the river Ganges, at Dakshineshwar temple in Kolkata

By the river Ganges at Rishikesh

Waiting for the transport, on the way to village

Deep in thought, at Dakshineshwar temple by Ganges.

By the side of the road on the way to Haridwar

By road side on the way to Haridwar