Saturday, July 23, 2016

Touch

Touch

Touch
For centuries he waited He Prayed in the cyclical horizon just ....for a touch, No dream no words , no song Just for a fragrant touch. Her finger quivered pensive , sleepy shivering approached his sleepy eyes. The butterfly waiting to touch the virgin magnolia , The dewdrop glistening at the edge of a grass waiting to touch the slumbering earth, the sun smiles . his body was wounded, she came and she changed into a deep wound as she touched, it was dusk it was raag jaunpuri. there was a song of infinity.

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Empty handed I trudge....

Empty handed I trudge....

Empty handed I trudge from door to door
Oh my lord
I am the eternal beggar
dont know who I want
dont know what I want,
My Chitta knows not where the peace is
My thirst quenches not,
Whatever I get I lose
I float in my tears.
All those travelers leave
The day comes to an end,
night approaches , the fair comes to an ednd,
How long oh my lord
Where do I leave my alms,
Where does the lamp light
Over which ocean bank ?

Friday, April 29, 2016

A song

A song

" Go if you have to with the Tune of my last song
Speak to me your last word //
It is getting dark
Not much time left,
The maverick loses his way
in the magic of Dusk of light and darkness,
In the western sky
we see the last sun rays,
In the deep forest bird sings the last song,
My beloved now seems
in search of the unknown
Opens her door for the last time."
Rabindranath.
" Sesh ganeri resh niye jao cholay............."

Monday, February 29, 2016

Infinite

Infinite

Infinite.
Such is your love,
You made me endless and
In my emptiness
You filled my life again.
So many mountains
So many rivers , you crossed,
That little flute in your hand,
So many songs you played
Oh, who do I explain.
With your blissful touch
Upon my heart
I lost all the barriers,
In ecstasy my words spilled over.
Night and day, day and night,
With your handful gift
For centuries,
I can't see any end of my begging,
Such is your love.
Rabindranath.

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Healing

Healing

I long to sleep a little while on the sands of
an unforgettable ocean, I was desiring a blindness. She rose from the ocean singing the song of a humming bird, an ancient stone goddess smelt of regeneration. she and I laid on the sand looking at the blue, the brutal nights of oil lamps faded as I drank honey from her intermittent moan The distant mountain sang the song of Healing Sarod strings dispatched the fog from a lone coast. I fell asleep. She left didnt know when. On a Healing touch of Payal Agarwal. @amiya

Monday, December 21, 2015

Mother Teressa

The late, great Christopher Hitchens was one of the first to raise questions about the authenticity and wisdom of claims made by the Roman Catholic Church promoting Mother Teresa. The following is an excerpt from Hitchens’ critique:
Mother Teresa was not a friend of the poor. She was a friend of poverty. She said that suffering was a gift from God. She spent her life opposing the only known cure for poverty, which is the empowerment of women and the emancipation of them from a livestock version of compulsory reproduction.
And she was a friend to the worst of the rich, taking misappropriated money from the atrocious Duvalier family in Haiti (whose rule she praised in return) and from Charles Keating of the Lincoln Savings and Loan. Where did that money, and all the other donations, go?
Many more people are poor and sick because of the life of Mother Teresa: Even more will be poor and sick if her example is followed. She was a fanatic, a fundamentalist, and a fraud, and a church that officially protects those who violate the innocent has given us another clear sign of where it truly stands on moral and ethical questions.
- See more at: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/progressivesecularhumanist/2015/12/mother-teresa-sadistic-religious-fanatic/#sthash.rWjt6qgu.dpuf

Monday, November 16, 2015

Touch

Touch

For centuries he waited
He Prayed in the cyclical horizon
just ....for a touch,
No dream
no words ,
no song

Just for a fragrant touch.
Her finger quivered
pensive , sleepy shivering
approached  his sleepy eyes.
The butterfly waiting  to touch
the virgin magnolia ,
The dewdrop  glistening 

at the edge of a grass waiting
to touch the slumbering earth,
the sun smiles .
his body was wounded,
she came
and she changed into a deep wound
as she touched,
it was dusk 
it was raag jaunpuri.
there was a song of infinity.