Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Wipe Your Slate Clean

Wipe your slate clean off all
the world has written on it.

Wipe off every single prejudice
that history and culture have
conspired to blinker you with.

Wipe off all you've been made
to like and dislike.

Wipe off
the good and the bad,
right and wrong,
happiness and sadness,
joy and grief.

Wipe yourself off yourself.

You'll see the world
like you've never seen it before.

Sunday, April 6, 2014


Think, write, scratch
go on go on go on go
scratch, write, think.

Thursday, March 13, 2014

The Pianist and the Ballerina

He tunes his piano
She ties her point├ęs.

He sits on his stool
She takes center-stage.

He plays the opening note
The spotlight flashes on her.

He can only hear the crowd's loud cheers
She can only see eyes upon her regal body.

He glues his eyes to his sheets
She fixes her mind upon her movements.

His fingers move mechanically along the keys
Her limbs sway to the tune of precise timing.

He has played this score hundreds of times
She has rehearsed her steps to faultless perfection.

He lets his memory guide his fingers
She lets her limbs free to do their own work.

He steals a glance at her
She opens her ears to lilting melody.

Those sheets of notes cease to exist;
He's busy composing his heart's birdsong.

She is no longer a puppet in the audience's hands
Her soul leaps joyfully towards new-found release.

She is his music
and he's her dance.

Friday, February 21, 2014

Addressed to No One Anyone Knows Of

You can
piss on my feelings
all you want;
and get away with it.

You're a giant
and i'm a peashooter.

You're friendly popular
tried tested and trusted.
(Or so it seems.)

I'm the caustic irreverent
'rebel without a cause'
(Or so the world thinks.)
My existence itself is profane.

You can easily dismiss me
with a languid wave of your hand.
I'll be swatted away like a fly.

But each blow of yours
hammers steel into shape.

One day you wouldn't be able
to wish me away,
not when there are many of me.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

I'm scared of falling in love.

I'm scared of surrendering
my whole soul to the most powerful
illusion that ever fools man.

For me falling in love would be
seeing a mirage of an oasis upon
the desert of my lonely heart.

I'll trudge several painful miles
to go the distance towards this
beautiful projection of all my dreams.

I'll grow weary with each step i take,
till i find it's never been there.

Sunday, February 9, 2014


I've tried to describe the Jain ritual of Sallekhana, which is fasting to death. The vow of sallekhana is taken when one feels that one's life has served its purpose; when one has no wishes/ambition/desires left, and no responsibilities remaining in life. It is also allowed in cases of terminal disease or great disability. The purpose is to purge old karmas and prevent the creation of new ones. If you want to know more about it, you may read 'The Nun's Tale' in a book called 'Nine Lives' by William Dalrymple. You may also see the wikipedia page on Sallekhana. Here's the link- 

Sallekhana is not suicide. 

Sallekhana can never be 
a violent reckless freefalling 
plunge into that self-destructive 
hellward spiral born of despair. 

Yes, Sallekhana is a fast 
unto death, but is death the End? 

Isn't the human body a mere 
vehicle that takes the soul on 
its journey towards the greatest Truth? 

Can one life ever be enough 
to know all there is to know? 
For the body is an object 
that will slowly come to ruin. 
One day it will fail to serve you. 

Death by Sallekhana is just 
like phasing out an old car as
lovingly and gently as one 
weans a babe off the Mother's breast. 

Monday, January 27, 2014


It is a starving animal.

It's mean angry and scary
when lean with hunger.

Purity of purpose
has sharpened its senses.

No smell or sight or sound
can hijack its attention
away from prey.

Even when hunger
burns out its insides
it's never too weak
for the thrill of a chase.

It needs to strike with ferocious deftness and
inflict pain by ripping tender flesh with dagger claws.

It needs to watch its prey's futile struggle
till it goes slack in its jaws.

More than blood it needs to taste power.