A requiem

A draft originated, a tumultuous decade,
thoughts added piecemeal, the requiem grew,
a seed blossomed anew, surreal,
tides of time trimmed a neutron’s half-life.

When the wicked are confounded,
Doomed to flames of woe unbounded,
Call me, with Thy Saints surrounded.
Low I kneel, with heart submission!
See, like ashes my contrition!
Help me in my last condition!

Long awaited, aspiration to write a book fruitless
and lost ‘midst tasks in a whimsical life.
Yearning for knowledge gathered through experiences,
sensations, beyond words, intangible through language.
Here is a ramble on philosophy and thoughts never told.

Here, in another time, beyond material world,
Wisdom dawns bright and darkness scorched,
Ignorance and pride burnt to ashes.
A new day unfolds, mysteries pondered unsolved,
with knowledge of That inadequate,
my comeuppance delivered, without a warning.

Chance, the dice, a sly player,
brings a child blinding aspiration, introduced;
new meaning, average expectation devoid and existence exciting.
Fate presumed plans, molds a survivor,
a seed, science, a new beginning.
Anew started four years of fond memories thus far.

Innocent and ignorant the first fifteen,
knowledge filled the void but ignorance remained the next five;
here stands a Self, after ten more, on path to realization,
aspiring for ethics to unlearn, knowledge gained alike.

A fleeting feeling, life on the cusp,
evolution forced deliberately to destroy the suit;
unconscious the effort, unknowing the consequence before.
The ironic mind develops on its own, independent,
tackling tasks fathomed impervious, in precision
thoughts dared not touched, imperceptible at first.
The weak succumb to illusion and knowledge the true path.

Another effort to bring back the body from the brink
Marathons lay in front, mind endured.
Pain but the weakness leaving the body.
The blackhole still does not fade, like cancer hurts;
Control is but ignorance personified, now realized.
Conquered the distance, thrice, but the longing thrives.

Mutilation of Self, not the intention from the beginning,
Through obsessions fulfilled with transient pleasure.
The mind survives, desire without attachment.
‘Not the philosophy to sacrifice everything, to attain it all ?
This ecstasy of the obsession in the face of affliction
Has but led this life to new heights and body penalized.

Sleeping, thinking, eating, drinking, cooking, running, coding,
All but one more downfall in temporal realization.
Nevertheless, love for addictions transforms, aspiration
And new friends attained thereby. New bridges crossed hence.

Blessed is he, who has found his work;
Let him ask for no other blessedness.
The last eight years, a nuclear engineer dreamed
Realized and fulfilled, a father’s wish.
Long and hard the path traveled, at times cruel;
With friends for guidance and others inspired.

The final work, my karma,
Carried at the end of this and born with it, next.
If cause and effect did change,
Perspectives, opinions, ambition,
Let this work make the difference,
Between my life, death and beyond.

An undying feeling that money, a social trick
Need not bothered but finds its way, wished not,
forced not, desired not.
Difficult times mixed with pleasant, helped
Family and friends when necessary,
Grateful to Thee, never felt abandoned.

Words untold become words lost. For eons.
That shall be, till life becomes dust.
Belief in human nature, capable of the righteous,
And wretched alike, imagined.

Life filled with ironies, a harmony
Created in embrace, far more sublime than senses offer.
In the end, the Brahman stays eternal,
While ignorant half-knowledge bickers, human ethics.
None the better, a nuclear engineer or a carnal maid,
The self replicated, origin and deliverance from ego.
Seven billion possibilities, the vagaries of the mind
To decipher the chaotic fractal of the infinite dimensional Om.

This life, full, fruitful, past regrets,
Meditating on the now, for He sculpted the past and future.
This chaotic living has been beautiful.
The path treaded eventful, extraordinary,
grateful to the family loved, raised me,
to the friends laughed and moved, this soul.
Inadequate, a droplet in an ocean, these words
in gratitude for life enriched, ways rare.
My expectation, reflections in mirror,
spurred lives that changed mine, along right directions.

Final thoughts, quotes flood. A poem apt before told
by Henry Van Dyke, `the Parable of Immortality`.

I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze
and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength,
and I stand and watch until at last she hangs
like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says,
“There she goes!”

Gone where?
Gone from my sight . . . that is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spar
as she was when she left my side
and just as able to bear her load of living freight
to the place of destination.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment
when someone at my side says,
“There she goes! ”
there are other eyes watching her coming . . .
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout . . .

” Here she comes! “

If we have seen, talked, laughed, drank or loved,
Do not mourn this passing.
Burn away thoughts somber.
Remember me during your best of times, a last request,
For life eternal flows on,
And may the next one be longer,
fulfilling and as memorable as this one…

The dreadful mundane.

Amadeus

Finished?
Mozart:What?
The vaudeville, what do you think?
Mozart:Yes.
Can I see it?
Mozart:No.
Why not?
Mozart:Because there’s nothing to see.
I asked you if we could start rehearsals next week and you said yes.
Mozart:We can.
So let me see it. Where is it?
Mozart: Here. (Pointing to his head) It’s all right here in my noodle.
The rest is just scribbling. Scribbling and bibbling, bibbling and scribbling.

I say the same when I have a fantastic idea for a paper. Repetitively. It’s so beautiful in the mind, so perfect, un-obscured, and straight-forward, bright as an evening star. But the drudgeries of writing them down, the explanations and the unnecessary words to put it across seems mundane and annoying and hence I keep post-poning… Let someone come up with telepathy already and relieve me of the mundane. Let me just think and resolve while the superficial details unimportant, become unnecessary here forth…

Fruition

Peace, wished, yearned, null satisfied;
Aspired, immersed with actions,
Fulfill’, not a throbbing heart.

Captain, a ship floats yonder, steadfast
Meditated, on now, even with a trace,
Beloved, shattered fallacies, intrinsic.

Dexterous dreamer, evolving, surviving
manholes and pitfalls, still walking tall.
Mutually seduced and stripped, iron to cotton.

A delicate lotus, blooms, ‘midst raging sea,
A split soul, earned, past deeds, karma;
A yoke formed, sublime fruition inevitable.

Ye celestial suns, witness, bless an union.
Thank thee elements, fire and water, pure.
Dawned today, afresh; A new day, bright.

Particles do converge …

Fluid is life, flowing incessant, unyielding,
Punished by vagaries will, let the soft pass,
Supple yet dense, for forces hard.
Surreal the thought, pure the accomplishment.

A persona shines supreme, a soaring phoenix;
Thoughts beyond, change resisted, failed short,
Resplendent the mind image, intuition fought,
Fruitless an union, once.

A splinter in the mind’ eye,
Yearning, buried ‘midst work and play;
A heart torn asunder, resonant,
senses enriched, a beacon visible aloft.

Regret, pangs mounted, emotions billow,
flux, a future, a sublime moment past;
Experiences gained once, crumbled mountains to sands,
With time and resolve. A mail arose hence. So long.

A serene voice, outcome unexpected, connected link,
Inaccurate once perceived, the mind,
Blundered the sublime message, man blind,
A hallowed angel, salvaged one from the brink.

Discovered anew, aspiration and adoration,
To the quintessential essence, meditation, a consciousness,
To an oscillation, duality, a swan,
To my liberation, music, a magic flute,
To a reflection, beloved, a unique spirit.

We adore not a person perfect, only
realize an imperfect person perfectly.
Ye be the perfectly imperfect hemispheres,
Conjoined to form, a luminous, peerless yoke.
This shall be all our stories,
For always divine, the bond with any name.

A mugged mind

Scarred and bruised, body and soul,
Serenity lost, forgotten in woe;
Efforts to cheer up the mind, spiral down a hole
Only to quench the ache, meaning of eternal bliss.

A lost wallet, body in pain, questions remain.

Inception

Quiet the times, wafting on a river,
Torrid the waves, unrelenting;
Yet intangible the entropy, seemingly normal
till I found a shade fond.

Fresh the perspective, vibrant
Engaging verbosely, respected.
A reminiscent feeling dug deep
Revives a bond, once beloved.

Transient the touch, still affected
Involuntary a kid chimed and dreamed;
Unlikely snow flake discovered anew,
matured, unique, intricate, my precious cherished.

Somehow short yet impact sustained,
A radiant consciousness shall linger everlasting.
Another time, different setting, alternate universe,
Particles perhaps do converge cardinally.

Another year passes.

A year past, sour memories taint
Another fresh life starts.
A decade past, immature, arrogant,
Time mellows and heals, lessons learnt.

Three decades, a half lifetime ?
Or close to full, pysche pushed ?
Extremes attracted, a mind unrest,
Oscillated, annihilated, wishes contracted.

Shall the new cycle bring anew,
Experiences, joy and sorrow alike ?
I pray so, for life feeble and short,
Nothing satisfies than extending limits.

Passions never die.

It is funny how my recent posts always seem to revolve around either music or food or running or my work. And I think this is because when you are mature and when you feel the life’s pinch, it is only those qualities that sustain you on your everyday journey that excite you enough to go on.

And this is one of those days. Its been a very long week. I am tired with work (I just keep taxing myself with things to do; its not a bad thing in the long run though !) and ache for a vacation. I half-heartedly partied all weekend to only become really tired afterwards. But here I stand, above my expectations, nourished by a wonderful curry chicken with the most adorable flavors of red peppers, mustard, asfoetida, cilantro, carrots, onions, tomatoes, garlic, ginger and chicken. She is unique. I’ve never, ever tasted such magnificence in a restaurant and I doubt that even I could reproduce this. Driven by smell, and beauty, I derive and drive these creations. And never has she deceived me.

This post is a dedication to her. My taste buds, my food sense, bow to what my brain can conjure to enslaven the five senses. And before that, I stand, humble, obliged and small.

Its all for the good.

Yes. I was hurt recently. Not mentally. Its been a while since I’ve taken that punishment. But physically. And that still hurts. On top of that, being told that you need another surgery, something you went through already (although not the same one) does not bring one up. Given the depressing weather, it doesn’t help either.

But cooking. The divine smell, the transcendent taste of food, the 6 inches of space that controlled man’s fate so far, eventhough unrealized, still changes my fate. I’ve been told that I’m a good cook but its unrealized until it brings you back up with making a grand dinner on a depressing day. In my opinion, very few people share the same passion towards two different aspirations but for some reason, I contradict this in some way. If I was not good at what I do right now (along the lines of applied physics/mathematics), I would be a chef, or an adrenaline junkie. And all of them elate me equally. Unfortunate ?

The beauty about life is that it seems so complicated, with unimaginable results but given enough simple assumptions, it is completely predictable. But of course, this is hindsight. I have run so far, still long to run another million miles but limited by the endurance. Unfortunate, yes. But the reality outweighs the thought. I will run again. Another surgery or not. I shall run another 10 marathons until I hit 3:10. And I shall run that Boston marathon with pride, with a screw in each of my leg. Take that Life !

Its cliched, yes. “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”. Time will tell. Until then, I will rest and enjoy the unpredictable, beautiful chaotic events that elate me…