Completing 49 years

Is aging chronological Or spiral?Aging is random,In moments few,Our mental age grew.Is aging greyingOr growing?It is both for some,Making use of this privilege is true understanding.Is aging resting Your case,Or resisting?Aging is building a caseSingular, exceptional and then resting:For posterity, be inspiring.Is aging sweetening Or embittering?Aging is a little of all,Like so many shades Of

I believe, I trust

Success is the result of our genuine talent, sincere effort and strong decision to not give up before we achieve our goal. Yes. But then how is it that only few succeed while many do not, despite of the talent, effort and determination? We do reflect- oh the timing was not right, or some stroke

When for no reason

Sometimes for no obvious Or explicable reason, You may just feel Your heart is heavier, Your mood is low, Your reflexes are slow.Usually around this time,Same day, same time,In the past, You have faced,A devastating setback.The heart has not forgotten,The mind has not overcome,But you have moved on.At such moments,It helps to do Pranayam.Meditate.Be gentle

Closure

At some point of time,Its just time,To leave a job,To leave a relation,To leave a nation.Some by choice,So we may rejoice,While some endings Just are meant,Pre written, predestined.Perhaps a reluctant exit,A heart-heavy bye bye,At crossroads, we arrive.Eyes we may half close,Refusing to face The uncertainty upfront,Though questions chase,No answers to hunt.Then tears escape,And sighs releaseLips

Control

‘You can never expect life to be as you would like life to be. But you can always expect the most carefully thought of ways to deal with what is thrown at you. So how you respond is the key to your own well being.Do not rush into a reaction immediately. Take your time.You choose

The Art of Leaving

Leaving is an art.Smilingly depart.Not all you meet qualifyFor a heart-to-heart.You can’t verify Any person or relation’Beforehand’ Only afterwards, You realiseHow genuine they are.Time reveals,Always, and alsoTime heals.Leave, don’t grieve,Don’t pine For what is not,Don’t in Moha-mayaGet so caught,Shallow human selfishnessHas no limit,Nor measure,Gather yourself,Choose a closure.The ‘art of leaving’,Means moving on,Into new worlds.In new

Topsy

The world is at timesA bit topsy, a lot turvy,For you or me Or her or him,The morning may seem,A bit like Coffee gone cold,A bit like A slightly burnt cookie,That too without cream.Your mood may seem low,The sun may glare And pale your glow,Life may bring you,Blow after blow.If this be such a day,I

As April approaches

This April:Hold your positive thoughts longer,It makes your words Sweeter and stronger.Hold your peace longer,It makes your words calmer.Hold onto truth forever,It gives your wordsPower.What thoughts you keep,That far you’ll reach,Your intent, your thoughtsInto your words will seep,And find a placeIn your speech.Be word-conscious today onwards!Be April ‘Wise’Not April fool,Be ‘Word-wise’,Relaxed and cool.

For some of us

For some of usFrom this day, today,This world will never be The same again.A few words unsaid,A few tears unshed,Will forever remain.For some of us now on,A hollow feeling,An emptiness,A sense of loss,A long, quiet silence,Will forever remain.This world will never be The same again.To those ‘some of us’Whose hearts have broken,I say, let us

Grief

Grief is never brief.From it,There’s no relief.Let it shedFrom your heart,Autumn after autumn,Leaf after leaf,Tear after tear,Drop by drop.Bare eyes,Bare branch,Bare heart,Just continue to live,Dhak-dhak, dhak-dhak,Beat after beat…As you walk on,Mile after mile,Remember:Life is brief,Accept grief,With it reconcile,Try once more to smile.

Hold peace today

Today ensureWords are not flung,No heart is with Harsh words stung.A thousand splendid Truths we realiseWhen we observe silence,And choose to be wise.Affirm to yourself once, twice, thrice,Words are over-priced,If at all I speak,Only goodwill And blessings,My words ought to Either spread or seek.Words are meant to beIn prayers sung,Silence is My mother tongue,Quiet is

This too shall heal

The fact of impermanence We ought to hold Onto closely, Especially awarefully,Consciously, every day.Impermanence in lifeDoes remind usThat injuries of the heart,body and mind Do not hurt forever.This new injuryFeels heavy right now,Unbearable somehow,But its not permanent,Soon it will heal.Always rememberWe are all temporary, What happens to usDoes end, does pass,And so shall we.

Not all mornings are good.

Some mornings A noisy silenceIn your mindBut your lips smile.Some morningsA quiet noiseIn your heartBut your lips pray.Alternate cycles bringA smile, as tears stingOr tears, with a smile.Accept.Learn.Detach.Move on.Stronger, surer.

The final destination

Reaching to our origin.Shunya, the eternal,Shunya, the infinite.Reaching to our origin.Shunya and Silence,Silence, the endless deep,Death: pre-destined,Eternal sleep.Reaching to our origin,Shunya, the infiniteSilence, the ultimateEternal Peace.Om Shanti.Om Shanti.Om Shanti.

Morning of Memories

Memories are like mountainsThe fog hides them allAnd the sunReveals as we recall.Some days memoriesPlay hide and seek,A clouded mindStruggles for detail;Other days, memoriesRefuse to leave,All visuals you retrieve.Memories.Mountains far and nearSometimes a smile,Sometimes a tear. Fog-hidden Al Hajar mountains

Re-think and relax about health

Walk down any hospital ward.You will find patients of all shapes, sizes, ages with different maladies. A sportsperson has a spine surgery, so does an accident victim and so does a housewife bending to pick up toys – spine surgery when she has had a slip disc. A person who religiously did Yoga, went to

What if…

If we’ve lostA near and dear one, May we find withinPatience and solace,That they’re restingIn a better placeWhat if Death was for themRest and relief?They could not bearThe suffering, Take not the pain,So left this lifeAnd the soul reached A beautiful realm Much greater, higher.Let us perhapsHold this belief,To lessen the sorrow,A comforting thoughtMaybe we

A day comes

A day comesWhen what mattered,You must let go.You just know,You give up.It is the day You are justa little less aliveBut you survive.Like the cat’s last lonely walkaround the street,In extreme heat.Losing hope,To find a biteTo chew, to eat.Both you and the catSo much alike,Until next dawn,Both just survive.Will the catWithout the hat,Not named Tom,Nor