Two bottles engrossed in a deep conversation....
Introspecting, contemplating & trying to know more about the potion contained in them.
The first one said to the other one “I think I know my purpose of life, I am born to tranquilize pain, paint unrealistic & superficial portraits for the less blessed souls, I also have the capability of turning blood into a colourless liquid which is often called water.”
The other one was still mustering some courage to voice his thoughts cause he was still to know his aim & reason of existence; all that he knew that he was contained with a potion not very different from his neighbour’s.
The first bottle added to his brag “They say I am a miraculous invention out of lot of decaying matter but have the supremacy on the class called man as I take them to a temporary realm of bliss, & hope you are partially as blessed as me so that you find your life fruitful, the more I am absorbed the more they seek for me, I am that drop that can drive man to his end, I think my tales of valour may make you in awe of me, but I cannot help friend if you are not as blessed as I am."
The other was still in loss of words.
Just then a man trying to steady on his feet came & grabbed the first bottle by his neck….
The other one’s fate was etched by the alchemist of the nearby town who engraved on his body “Elixir of life” & who was the most celebrated amongst the wizards.

Every morning I went in search of the sheep that I lost….
It was just beyond the dark mountain that I had took him grazing & I missed him somewhere…
Now that I call for him, I can find him nowhere.
The fellowmen say that they last saw him with a man who had the hands of a carpenter, & eyes of a philosopher.
Some say that they saw him going in a trance under the old banyan tree.
I had woven many dreams for him & counted the pennies in my mind. His mother is wailing for him & so are his friends.
How could he betray me for an unknown man, the man who was seen roaming in the mountains….
& I really feel like uprooting this banyan tree which stood here for hundreds of years but I never realized will be the cause of my miseries
The wise old man from the neighbouring Bedouin tribe says that an enlightened sheep visited their tribe who spoke about a world of bliss & a city of gold, who healed the sick & blessed the poor
I will be visiting him tomorrow….might be he will recognize me amongst the rest.

This post is dedicated to my sweetest bro Arnab

The luminious globe of light stood in front of me...
I proceeded towards him & he enfolded his pinions & the gleaming daggers stretched themselves out of the refuge , they appeared to me like thirsty serpents wanting to taste what was flowing through my veins
I knew what was destined, a part of me had to die.....a silent death
I had to lay down my arms & just be a spectator as I saw it breathing its last breath, it suddenly seemed like an alien to me.....the one who etched in me fear, ambition,desire, antagonism,rage...the one who never left me as I conquered & posessed in life. It laid there in peace in front of me, the turmoil had ended.
Now I could proceed. I stared at his face as he undressed me & bathed me in the fragrant oil & the music of the harp melted in my ears, as he draped me in his robe & gave me his crown, led me through the passage where the celestial bodies were in awe of my grace & we walked through the foyer which was taking us towards the Divine Feast .
We were entwined in an eternal embrace as he offered himself & i had to eat from his flesh & drink through his blood.... & we were no more divided....as i became a part...i attained my Salvation.

As I was walking in the woods...
Which took me by its stride, no pathway, no dead end but I travelled. The journey which had the left overs of the autmn & no signs of the spring, the journey which maybe destined to be the destination & i pondered why was there a mirage created about Spring. We feel that the birds sing, bcoz somebody told us they do, & the trees dance as new leaves spurt out & the whole process of Nature is turned into one rosy celebration & once again our inflated ego wants to personify Nature.
The most selfish invention of Grammar is Personification & it takes all the liberty. We want to personify the inanimate to leave our mark & also use it on God to claim, then we go a step ahead & term it as creative poetry & take the oppurtinity to personify anything & everything. I dont know about political states but human minds can be as democratic as possible. I have seen a Metaphor used with personification but it is not termed as bending the rules of written language.
It also shows our reach & the power of being all pervasive, trying to spread across each thought & each object & speck... animate or inanimate. This feeling of personifying makes the object YOU & there is no diference between the object & you which can take you the state of Samadhi.
Cool.... I remember myself writing an Autobiography of an old Umbrella in my school days, trying to think like a stupid umbrella of all the things... but it was the beginning of a Satori -a deep lasting enlightenment, an innate power that you posess to personify things which was taking you by its stride might be to a destination called Samadhi.

The scent has still not left my nostrils… and the maggots still piercing my flesh…
I met my degenerated body the other day. People covered their nose, & swiftly passed including me & there he slept, unmoved, peaceful. His peace is not letting me rest in peace. He lay under the bridge & was in his dream state not at all bothered about the stench that he spread across, not even bothered by the maggots thriving on his flesh. I still don’t know whether to term him as morbid or it was a state where your material body matters no more. Is this the state that we are craving about? I can’t believe myself that I was in awe of his peace. When I say, is this the state? I mean, where you can be in peace all the time.
My body mocks me…
As I am in awe of the most morbid thing that I have ever seen
My beauty mocks me…
As what I saw had an ugly exterior
My wisdom mocks me…
As it speculates the turmoil between me & him
My self mocks me…
As I find him more elevated than me

Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?

That which cannot get affected by fire, water, air is what we all have in us… So let us be One with it & participate in the Divine Celebration.

Sati...

She sat there like an unblemished effigy. Her thick mane darker then the colour of the smog created around her. The unveiled glances still trying to capture her voluptuous beauty. She looked like a Devi unperturbed by the chaos & din around her as she sat on the funeral pyre with her master’s head on her lap. Soon she was going to be set ablaze & her existence will be brought down to mere ashes which will be blown by the breeze, soon she will be proclaimed as a Devi a Sati devi, even the chowk named at her honor was decided, it was the same one which Hira the maid servant was mentioning the other day about a hippie girl being molested by a panda.
Suddenly a smile emerged on Roma’s lips as she remembered how she & Hira had tried to hide her father-in-law’s specs & got caught & everyone suddenly hailed at Sati Mata’s name seeing the smile on her face. Roma was now feeling dizzy looking at the man on her lap somehow she could not relate to the unresponsive, lifeless body neither she could recollect about the relation that she shared with the deceased. But somehow she could relate being a Sati. She remembered Rohini they used to call each other twin souls, inseparable….Roma & Rohini under the amla tree trying to savor the beauty of the month of Kathik…..Rohini was send to Belur as she married the man with hundred maidservants at his badi (villa). Soon Rohini was sent back as the man with hundred servants (that’s how Roma recalls him), died. But Rohini came with different tags attached to her, the women at the ghat used to call her a witch devouring her husband & refusing to walk up the pyre, some also called her a loose woman as she refused to shave her head. Roma remembered Rohini’s tear filled eyes when Roma refused to meet a blasphemed woman like her. Rohini was burning everyday not with the scorn of people around her but the discomfort of her dear ones. She remembered Sudhansu whose writings could cause upheaval in the society & who was one of the active members of the Brahmo. His thoughts made Rohini free from the grief that pricked her bosom & with lots of courage she confessed her feelings to him & Rohini became a Sati that very moment as she was burnt breathing by Sudhansu’s poison tipped words for her & the whole Brahmo Samaj was set ablaze in front of her. No one heard of Rohini thereafter.
Roma knew the taste that lingered on her lips it was pure ghee, thamma used to give a lot of it when young, another pot of ghee was splashed on her. Roma realized what was happening, she screamed for help but her voice subdued in the din & she was hit by something hard on her head might be with the holy fruit- coconut. Roma could see Sudhansu smiling at her & even Rohini had accompanied her on the pyre & then she saw all the hundred maid servants of Rohini’s badi jumping one by one in the pyre. Soon the sound faded & Roma knew she will be unlike Rohini & she smiled & became unconscious.
The author’s note: Roma & Rohini are close to me & so are the maid servants, I feel that the pratha of Sati still exists. A Joan of Arc was declared as a witch as she used to dress like a man, Speak to God, get revelations & hence burnt alive, she was proclaimed a saint after 500 hundred years of her death. Sati is an immediate title of Godhood given by a man. This blog is for us to think how many times are we made a Sati & burnt alive!!!!