Poetry – On writing

Always I have waited, for words to be wise
before they are permitted on paper,
evaluated, judged and criticized for accuracy
lest they be decried as mere crap.

A mask of intelligence seemed necessary,
vulnerability was deemed un-necessary,
always it felt more important to hide,
all that actually needed to be shown.

Moments rare are embellished and decorated
with the fanciest, choicest of words,
but we judge most about ourselves,
are hidden, deleted and cleaned up from verse.

Now I feel a freedom, an irrelevance,
about all the things that I once wanted to hide,
parts of me are just that – thoughts, beliefs and stored,
bits and pieces of a complex “personality.”

I now want to write the truth
choose honesty, ease, peace and simplicity,
the words I pen are mere words, after-all,
why make it something that defines me.

This is just a simple exploration,
an playful adventure with words and verse.
how can it mean more than what it is,
for hidden meanings it has no more.

It matters not now what others may think,
each interprets them with their own stories in mind,
if you want to seek, look for the joy of freedom
that seems to be lurking behind these words.

I set myself free to write as I may,
I urge you to now do the same,
remembering what someone once told me –
write to write  and not to read.



The Pathless Path

The rule of existence
is that anything you really-really want,
you will get.

But most of us are not very honest,
about what we are really-really wanting.

If you are truly on the path,
then want nothing except THAT.

Let all other desires, fears, needs and wants
fade into the background.
And let this seeking be the only thing,
the number one priority.

The mind interferes and distracts and justifies.
Slowly, slowly, go beyond all desires
till you want nothing, except to find and BE yourself.

So in the beginning, one has to think, ponder, meditate,
go for satsang, discuss everything, seek guidance.

One day, it is seen that the search
has itself become an obstacle.

The crazy mind makes huge efforts,
like a dog chasing its own tail,
tired, exhausted, but unable to surrender.

Once the basic work is done,
release all effort.
Once the inner ‘running’ ceases,
the luminous reality is revealed.

So just keep remembering again and again.
Where are you going to find yourself, except in yourself?
Because you are already You.

The world can give you nothing,
except a push to go back to your Self.

– GD

(The words above are from one of GD’s talks in 2010.)



I sit in this chair
Surrounded by a few plants
Breathing in the discussions of the motley birds
watching the overgrown bamboo bend under its own weight

I have been cowed down by my own inaction
with simple inabilities to persevere
looking back at all I didn’t do
I feel no remorse no guilt

I shed my own skin
and then scrape off some more layers
to watch this redness emerge
a hypersensitivity that feels old though new

I bow to the divine inside me and around
cowed down by no words or wisdom
to live with this constant simplicity
to live conscious of choice

I emerge unscathed and stronger
from a vortex of constant doubt
fed by stories from birth till now
of how things are to be and not

This rebirth is from the womb of a teacher
from the mind of a student ardent to learn
irrepressible and yet willing to surrender it all
I type simply as a conscious life form.


Leaving myself

I fall
a flower on its way to god’s feet
empty of desires
devoid of defenses
willing to be adorned
or trodden over

The mind is shedding its person
leaving behind a being
at once nothing and all-encompassing

Where there was once fear
now lives joy waiting to play in light
bask in the glow of the present moment,
in this lifetime that is a blink of the universe’s eye

My random morning poem

I have decided,
to write for half an hour.
Let the unwashed clothes wait in a pile.
I’ll allow the rice to soak a little longer,
ignore the un-ironed clothes in the basket,
watch my mother-in-law mask her irritation.
Dust settles every second on every idle thing.
My mind, untouched for a year,
now has grime an inch thick.
Today, I will not look at the unwashed dishes in the sink
nor pause to put the newspapers in order
or clean up the little ones messy room
or put the unpaid bills in the folder.
I will escape into a room with no internet connection
and stare long at the white screen,
write nonsense into it,
use backspace as eraser, unashamedly.
Till I feel lighter in my head,
free of dusty inhibiting doubts,
use the half hour to free myself of guilt
and once it is done, go online, to facebook.

First Draft

Has already been edited. Here is the second.


The moon emerged from her mouth.

She swallowed the universe whole,
chewed on little planets,
pushed aside galaxies with her tongue
till comets came rushing out

Laughing, tumbling over each other
zooming away before they clash
into smoky nothingness.
Little asteroids falling out
burnt the moon’s ground.

Then she felt a black little hole
pulling on her insides
and she fell inwards
melting, dissipating.

Leaving behind a moon, proud.

Being a woman

is learning to be ok with what you dislike
to be happy, sad or neutral, learning to live your emotions
making an uninfluenced choice

is finding freedom in little things – a meal, book or dance,
to float even when you think life is tied down,
to sink so you rise above

is knowing to stop, tormenting yourself with thoughts
doubts, depressions, worthlessness- when your mind whimpers
close the door, leave negativity out

is not letting yourself down,
break self-imposed barriers
ignore gossip and envious ones around

is knowing you have all you ever need
till you choose to bring in more, being a woman after all
is life’s toughest role.