I seek

WHo is he that your soul is searching for, throughout its life?

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He who is
The source and the goal
Knotted up in infinity,
He who has chosen to
Live inside the null,
Him, I seek.
He who is the
Undivided one
Living inside a million
Fragmented souls,
Him, I seek.
He who is not seduced by success,
Nor defeated by failure,
He who stays the same
Drenched in honey waves of joy,
Or the acid rain of pain,
Him, I seek.
He who, knowing all,
Has chosen to shroud himself in ignorance,
He who, owning all, needing none,
Has chosen to be lured by the trivial,
Him, I seek.
He who is the master of all,
But is ruled by love,
He who is vaster than the universe,
But lives veiled in my being,
Him, I seek.
He who, hiding inside me,
Makes me look for him,
Like a forlorn child
Crying for its mother,
Him, I seek.

 

Happy New Year!

Here is wishing all a Happy New Year!

Glad to share with you that three of my poems have been published today by The Society Of Classical Poets.

Here is the link:

http://classicalpoets.org/bemused-and-other-poetry-by-n-ram/

Once again, Happy New Year to All!

Just another day

Is it just another day when you are caught on the roads in heavy rains?

Mumbairains.jpg

 

Just another day, that is what we  say,
Cars are packed on roads, traffic jams whole day,
Everywhere you go, signals on the blink,
During rainy days, how the roads do shrink,
This is Bombay life, welcome to our way

People are fighting for the right of way,
There is so much noise, can’t hear what they say,
Roll the windows up, God! how garbage stinks,
Just another day

Sky is full of clouds painted in dark gray,
If you are stuck on roads, you can only pray,
Umbrellas in bloom -black, blue, red and pink,
Into potholes now, people’s cars will sink,
On the passersby water cars do spray,
Just another day


PS: This is a rondeau written about the Bombay monsoon. As some of you would have guessed, the rondeau  consists of 15 lines in three stanzas split into 5 lines/4lines and 6 lines.

The first half of the first line becomes the refrain that repeats  at the end of second and third stanzas.

 

Rhyming Riddle

The Society of Classical Poets held a Rhyming Riddle Contest recently.My poem  titled “One or two” was featured under  the ‘honourable mentions’ column.

If you want to check the original page it is here

I am giving below the poem itself

 

One or two

 

My name means two things that you get to see

You consume one, the other consumes you,

As far apart as the sky from the sea,

A part of your daily life are these two

 

One causes addiction, another cures,

Their forms and functions are different too,

One gives you protection from illness sure,

Other-knowledge and entertainment too.

 

From the attacks of illness one screens you

One a screen that takes you to another world

One is given by doctors to help you,

One is bought in vanity truth be told.

 

You can’t live without one is what you think

And the other keeps your health in the pink

 

Kurukshetra

His legs caught

In the quicksand

Of desire,

His mind lost

In the splendors

Of the spirit,

He is the field

Of eternal struggle;

The Light and the darkness

Waging an everlasting battle

For his soul.

Desire, weakened,

Does not let him go yet,

Spirit, not fully awakened,

Cannot set him free.

He speaks like a saint,

Yet is snared by desire;

Aims for the heavens,

Can’t get out of the mud.

He is the modern Kurukshetra,

The animal man

With a nascent Divinity.

 

(published in medium under the same name)

Sound effects

The collective mind

Is now conditioned by complexity.

Simplicity went out

Centuries ago.

The sound of horse steps

Have been replaced

By the screeching of tires

Or the whistle of the locomotive.

The pounding of the pestle

Has given way to the

Screeching of the mixer blender.

Sound world now

Is a structured chaos,

Speed clashing with

Many toned harshness.

Harmony has been demonetized.

Poetry now speaks-

Through broken edges-

It burrs cutting through

Your mind’s skin

And drawing blood.

Words now have to

Spew acid fumes

That burn your senses.

Edgy rules;

The rest – is edged out

 

(originally published in medium under the title times)