Mysteries, Yes

Umbilical Creeper Carpet by A.Ramachandran 

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
"Look!" and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.

- Mary Oliver

To live

Dust Storm Before the Rain by A.Ramachandran 

I am dead because I lack desire,
I lack desire because I think I possess.
I think I possess because I do not try to give.
In trying to give, you see that you have nothing;
Seeing that you have nothing, you try to give of yourself;
Trying to give of yourself, you see that you are nothing:
Seeing that you are nothing, you desire to become;
In desiring to become, you begin to live.

- René Daumal

Song

Untitled by A.Ramachandran

The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction

the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human--
looks out of the heart
burning with purity--
for the burden of life
is love,

but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.

No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love--
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
--cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:

the weight is too heavy

--must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.

The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye--

yes, yes,
that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.

- Allen Ginsberg:

The Negro Speaks of Rivers

Dream of a Politically Incorrect Artist by A. Ramchandran 

I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
     flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
     went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy
     bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I’ve known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

- Langston Hughes

Marte hain aarzoo mein

Ahalya by A.Ramachandran 

koi umeed bar nahin aati

koi soorat nazar nahin aati

maut ka ek din mu'ayyan hai

neend kyun raat bhar nahi aati

aage aati thi haal-e-dil pe hasee

aab kisi baat par nahi aati

jaanta hoon sawaab-e-taa'at-o-zahad

par tabiyat idhar nahin aati

hai kuch aisee hi baat jo chup hoon

warna kya baat kar nahin aati?

kyon na cheekhon ki yaad karate hain

mere awaaz gar nahin aati

daag-e-dil gar nazar nahin aata

boo bhi aye chaaraagar! nahin aati

hum wahan hain jahaan se humko bhi

kuch humari khabar nahin aati

marte hain aarzoo mein marne ki

maut aati hai par nahin aati

kaaba'a kis munh se jaaoge 'ghalib'

sharm tumko magar nahin aati 

- Mirza Ghalib 

Ishq mastana

Rituals of lal dhaga by A. Ramachandran 

Haman hai ishq mastana,
Haman ko hoshiyari kya?
Rahe azad ya jag mein,
Haman duniya se yaari kya?

Jo bichude hain piyare se,
Bhatakte dar badar phirte,
Hamara yaar hai humme,
Haman ko intazaari kya?

Na pal bichude piya hum se,
Na hum bichude piyare se
Unhi se neh laga hai,
Haman ko bekarari kya?

Kabira ishq ka mata,
Dui ko dur kar dil se.
Jo chalna rah nazuk hai,
Haman sar bojh bhari kya?

- Kabir 

A fairytale

As Spring Passes By by A.Ramachandran 

Alas, mountains of imagination were nothing but a house.
And this grand life of mine was nothing but an excuse.
You've been hearing my story so patiently for a lifetime.
Now hear this … It was nothing but a fairytale.

- Rumi