[08:54, 09/08/2021] Chinmaya Rajachandran Prakash: An earnest attempt.
Every poem is beautiful in the original version it manifests.
It’s all given by the all
Knowing
We are mere instruments…

My Spiritual Journey

I became a bit spiritual this morning. So closed my eyes and sat still and started thinking: 🤔
1. Who am I?
2. Where did I come from?
3. Why have I come?
4. Where to go?
Everything was fine until then.
Then I started asking these questions louder. Now others could hear.
They got me checked for ‘Amnesia’ little realising that I was on my journey to taste the ‘ambrosia’
They thought I had ‘schizophrenia’, little realising that every one else appear as that to the one madly involved in this journey.
Stones were thrown at me, but It was flowers that hit me.
Names were called out ; all I heard is music
People swore, turning the air blue;
that I was blissfully deaf, they didn’t have a clue.
I was discredited, disowned, forlorn;
Little realising that this was the freedom to launder and wander that I wanted to own.
This the Maya of what appears and not;
Of what’s real and relative.
When I begin to seek its Bhiksha
When you offer to please it is Shiksha.
No seeker dies of thirst
Nor can any food satiate his hunger
as long as the thirst and hunger are not of the senses…
It might all sound senseless
Until you feel the stillness after the ripple…