Kaivalya

For You I shall Live, For You I shall die, All those tough things For You I will try. For You I shall breath, For You I will stop, And all my desires For You I will drop. For You I shall eat, For You I will not, To the new qualities of life For You I will sought. For You I shall sleep, For You I will dream, When I'm all alone For You I will scream. For You I shall sing, For You I will talk, Till the ends of the world For You I will walk. For You I will love, For You I will fight, The Divine candle of hope For You I shall light. For You I shall shrink, For You I shall grow, The Essence of my life For You I shall know. P. Siddartha (look for this at: http://steppingstones.to/light/enlightening/fountain/0107.html)

Rains were pouring and the streets were drowning Birds were singing while the wind was dancing , Stars in the sky began shining in the day, This was all when I first saw an angel all the way. Her skin snow-white, she had a jasmine chin, She looked like a prize that I needed to win; Her rose-like lips and her tempting look, Made me wonder if she was a Keats' book. I was in ecstacy when I first heard her, As she moved her tongue her tone was sharp; Her teeth were shining diamonds all white, Her voice was the melody of a musical harp. The pits in which I fell were her cheeks' dimples, The river in which I sank was her silky-dark hair; Her eyes in the dark glowed like blue sapphires, If poetry was my breath then she would be the air. P.Siddartha 10 August, 2000.

The Love that I made was a juvenile crime; For it was not some mad Romeo's child, Which planted in me this desire so wild To evil my mind and kill benign time; As under the influence of a spell Cast by a wild-eyed fairy's sweet romance, I see a recurring dream, lost in trance: Only to be later thrown into Hell. My limbs no more walk to the Temple post; My lips no more sing the prayer Holy; Struck by some ill-conspired melancholy, My heart no more aches for Apollo's ghost Of whom a young bard from past sang aloud, Seeing himself afloat over that cloud.

A Passage to Kodai Kanal (September 11-13, 2004) Part-I Reaching There Nostalgia. How often do we get that feeling? I feel it every now and then. Amidst my deep contemplations, there is always a feeling of nostalgia to get back to my real home: the womb of Mother Nature where rest the graceful woods, mighty peaks and deep valleys. So as to gather the reminiscence of some beautiful past, I along with four of my friends went to observe, learn and enjoy the secrets of Nature personified in the form of the wondrous hill station Kodai Kanal. Kodai Kanal is about 12 hours of journey from Chennai. Murali was the one who proposed to go for a tour of Kodai on the afternoon of September 09, 2004, Thursday. Suddenly, we planned for the tour, and found out that only five of us are interested in the trip. Rest of them were busy with their incessant businesses of doing assignments, project work etc. Now, it was Murali, Raj, Vivek, Sreekumar and I who planned to go ahead for the weekend and s...

If only she were mine I shall not need to pine! Her touch would make me feel so fine Her beauty such a treat to dine Her eyes pouring most strangest wine Her smile more warmer than sunshine Her hairs knit like a cotton-twine Her tempting looks when dressed to nine Her curves some curly creeping vine Her fingers, each ending into a tine And gather in becoming one straight line Her modest speech so sweet and benign And yet her lips in taste saline And from her thoughts when I resign I find solace in her dreams divine And more of her could I define If only she were mine If only she were mine

O stranger- staying at my heart Listen to this new parable, Which I produce with all my art To cause you interest ample. A dream did happen in my life; (A dream that seemed real and true) The nymph with wings holding a knife Approached a man, ailing was who. This man since so long did await The Golden Opportunity Now fell a trap for this dame’s bait That had nor mercy nor pity. She showed him love and wild desire- He lingered in the languid thought; She taught him how to start the fire His purposes all came to nought. Deep rooted evil inside her Gave him a strange satiation; When each body met the other Sin overrode all compassion. Stars were cursing young lover’s fate; The Truth began to show its face. Love rechristened itself as Hate; The knife tore flesh in decent pace. His body trembled; a feared- For, pain was insurmountable. His final time in deed neared- He felt death was but more humble. Something cried inside him aloud (That so...

  A Passage to Uttaranchal (June20-21 & June 27-29, 2004) Although I stayed in Haryana for about 6 weeks for official purposes, I really spent my most valuable and unforgettable time in the divine state of Uttaranchal.This state, endowed with richness of the nature’s true wealth, was without doubt once the land of the demi-gods. The mighty peaks and holy waters of this land have taught my mind to think high and pure. I had spent about five days here, in two separate trips. During my first visit, I had been to meet Aamma who along with other relatives was on a trip to these holy lands. I met her at the Haridwar, perhaps the most ideal place to begin the uncommon quest for the other side of the universe. Mother Ganga (River Ganges), dancing in her many streams, flows with kind of strange wilderness. They say, once you take a dip in the holy Ganga, all your past karma will be neutralized enabling you to be free from the endless cycle. I wondered if the aggressive behavior of the...

  A gentleman, never been called so, Who, in his own style, tried to show The world the way it has to know That individualism must stay and grow. A philosopher of unusual tempo Whose ideas he himself drove To endless heights without slow From existing standards disdainfully low. A saunterer from the holy-lands of snow                   Without pointing his finger or raising his brow        At the downward speed of mankind’s flow Remained aloof, having attained divine glow. A gentleman, never been called so, A philosopher of unusual tempo A saunterer from the holy-lands of snow My hero, Henry David Thoreau .

  Holy water so cold and pure Rending our hearts infinite cure Flow ever in the land of Gods Make rich us, prosper our abodes; With you bring us the Divine Light With you take us to highest height Where white-caps of snow lay pristine Where great winds pious and benign Touch us with ardor of Fathers Sitting in couches of lathers Device the plans for human life Of bliss, sorrow; Of wealth and strife; Gift us with minds of intellect Bless us to become more perfect