A Mélange of Muses

I have recently become obsessed, to put it lightly, with a few..ahem.. areas: CAT prep, travel, Tibetian Buddism, finance and markets.. and I have also managed to get back to my shutter-crazy mood, preferring to experiment with angles and twilight! *Click- Click, and all the better if you are a drop of water or cheese-my latest muse!*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Speaking of muses, Tibetian Buddhism is a treasure-trove of inspiration. I came across the concept of Dakini, energy perceived in the feminine form, each with its unique essence and spiritual character. And to channel my peaceful vibrations further, I found this- contemplative poetry describing each Dakini and Buddha first as a spiritual personality, their role in Vajrayana Buddhism and lastly, their role as a spiritual guru of sorts. 

The Blue Dakini inspired me the most…

I am the sapphire dakini, the dancer on ocean and sky 
In my sky form, I appear in the middle of a shining blue lotus, 
against a mother of pearl sky at sunrise 
I am seated with smiling face, and two hands 
One holds a bell, and the other a book 
One leg descends from the lotus.

I am the sky dancer of infinite mind 
The purity of a bright blue sky, 
without clouds or smoke 
And the deep blue evening sky, 
shining with stars 
I draw out the seeker’s awareness 
from the grasping hands of matter 
I am the clear music which awakens the mind 
and causes the body to slumber.

I am also the ocean dancer of infinite perception 
The clear water which washes away the mud and dust of desire 
Which cleanses the heart of passion 
In the midst of the turquoise waters, my lotus is royal blue 
I am smiling with three eyes 
My four arms hold knife, bell, mala, and mirror 
I wear black veils, which float gracefully in the ocean 
My lotus’ petals are blue, but its center is black and gold 
In this form, I am revelatory 
I show the true path through the oceans of feeling.

My sky form is peaceful and compassionate, 
giving love and help 
My skin is pale blue, 
and I wear white pearls, sapphires, and emeralds 
My robes are gold and white, and my halo is deep blue 
In this form, I bring the gift of silence to disordered minds

My ocean form is active and creative, influencing the worlds 
I am dark, for my actions include both creation and destruction 
I create the pathways which seekers may travel to silence 
And I destroy the distractions which hold them like chains.

From the third eye of my active form comes my destructive form 
The wrathful blue dakini 
In this form, I am invoked during danger 
To protect the soul from destructive influences 
Bondage comes in many forms, 
as desire, as passion, as obsession, and interest 
I cut the bonds of attachment and darken the skies 
to show the true status of embodiment 
I am the formless light who takes on formed darkness 
to free those who are bound and blinded.

I am the blue lightning which shatters locks and chains 
The bolt of liberating insight out of the blue 
The blue notes of sorrow and regret over the past, 
the beginning of renunciation 
The path into the blue depths of eternity.

I am ordered and disciplined, yet spontaneous and free 
I come to practitioners who are worthy 
I am the initiating dakini 
for those seeking a pure heart and an infinite mind.

 

And so.. armed with the Mantra of le grande et tres belle Muse, this wave of wo(a)nder is off to surf sundry turfs.. 

Rêve pour toujours! Dream forever!

 

Trio of Omneity- I

Trio of Omneity- I

I stand in front of Myself
Gazing at You
Why are You there, imprisoned and listless?
Your eyes speak..the ones of melancholy hue…

Of fallen stars and lost dreams
Of battles lost and stiffled screams

Of heat and dust
Of frost and rust

Of veiled intentions
Of make-believe jubiliations

Of parchments smeared with red
Of life-giving oaths left unsaid

Of a night sky sans the moon
Of a bent violin dismally out of tune

Of promises unkept
Of arms left bereft

Of torn rose petals
Of perfunctory precious metals

Of the person you were
Will be and are

With walls of frosted glass
A backyard of silver
And a ceiling of oxymoronic choices en masse

Rise up, step out with Me, Your Maker
Twist, twirl, tap to the lively medley
Voyage to complete our Trio of Omneity
My Reflection, My Shadow and Me.

 

Who am I?

Who am I?

Am I the pseudo-simplicity of an atom
The seemingly innocuous dots on a line
The rapturous curves of a mountain
Or frozen snow on a pine?

Am I the gurgling rivulet
Splashing by the sleeping valley
Or the mighty ocean
With moody tides that seldom tally?

Or am I a fiery little candle
That self-fulfilling prophecy of death
Am I the air, or am I oxygen
Bestowing life with every breath?

I am the water, I am the fire
The holy Ganges, the burning pyre
I am the leaves, I am the bark
I am the flowers made for the lark

I am music, eternity supreme
Taal, Raga, Sargam in my team
I am milk, I am honey
I am the joy gained without money

I am an illusion
I am contemplation
I am plenum
I am vaccum

I am You.
And You are the Universe.

 

Music for the Unbrindled Soul

Music.. eternity in a nutshell.

These have been tingling my thoughts today..

Javeda Zindagi from Anwar..

Soul-stirring music. Reminds me of bazaars teeming with hawkers selling their colorful wares. Bangles and ribbons for the doe-eyed young lass clinging to her mother’s arm, eager to fly to her destiny. Peanuts for the energetic boy kicking stones with strategic skill. Antiques and cloth sold under shady canopies of dried leaves with the rays of the sun inspiring the dust on the ground to rise into asymmetric patterns. The wind wafting mesmerizing tunes and the aroma of corriander to the camels resting near make-shift tents.

Languid excitement.

Shamaa ko pighalane kaa armaan kyun hai, (why does a candle have the desire to melt)
Patangeko jalane kaa aramaan kyun hai, (why does a moth have the desire to burn)
Isi shauk kaa imtihaan jindagi hai (life is the test of these desires)

Kaise jiyaa jaaye … ishq bin (how can one live… without love)
Nahi koi insaan muhobbat se khaali (there is no human being who is empty of love)
Har ek ruh pyaasi har ek dil savaani (every soul is thirsty for it, every heart goes mad for it)
Muhobbat jahaan hai wahaa jindagi hai (wherever there is love, there is life)
Muhobbat naa ho to kahaa jindagi hai (without love there is no life)

 

Yuhin Chala from Swades..

Freedom. The vast skies. The magnificient blue oceans. The divine scent of the Earth seasoned with rain beckons to this Child of the Universe. To dream on clouds of stardust, desire the unknown, dare the unthinkable.

The past melts into the present which gifts wings to the future. Choices. Responsibility. Feathers in my flight to freedom. Feathers I embrace.

The winds are calling. Listen. Listen wherever you are. In the midst of people. Alone in your den. In the wilderness. Travelling underground. Listen.

har sapna sach lage jo pagan jale (every dream comes true when the fires of love are lit)
jo raah tu chale apne man kii (the path you choose of your heart)
har pal kii siip se motii hii tuu chune (you will find pearls in every oyster of time)
jo tuu sada sune apne man kii (when you listen to your heart)
yuun hii chala chal raahii… (keep roaming thus oh traveler)
 
man apne ko kuch aise halka paaye (the heart feels lightened)
jaise kandhon pe rakha bojh haT jaaye (like a burden lifted from the shoulders)
jaise bhola sa bachpan phir se aaye (like the innocent childhood has come back)
jaise barson men koii ganga nahaaye (like bathing in the ganges after a long time)
dhul sa gaya hai yeh man (my heart feels pure)
khul sa gaya har bandhan (now bonds are strengthened)
jiivan ab lagta hai paavan mujhko (now life feels fresh and new)
jiivan men priit hai honTHon pe giit hai (life is filled with love and the lips have a song at its tips)

bas yeh hii jiit hai sun le raahii (this is your victory oh traveler)
tuu jis disha bhii jaa tuu pyaar hii luTa (wherever you go may you always find love)
tuu diip hii jala sun le raahii (and blaze a path oh traveler)
yuu.n hii chala chal raahii (keep roaming thus oh traveler)

 

Listen to the wind. And listen to it seep into your blood. Feel it tingling your senses. Become one with the Universe.

Go on, go forth- live that dream.

 

 

(Thanks to Bollywhat and Mr Nair’s Blog for the English translations)

 

Satya and Saanjh

Satya.. to me, this name symbolizes beauty in a pure form..angelic, innocent, pristine…Wiki tells me that the philosophical meaning of ‘Satya‘ is that which is beyond distinctions of time, space, and person..Satya pervades the universe in all its constancy. And yet, she changes like nature’s moods. Constant change?

Change alone is unchanging

As I mull over the immense significance Satya holds, I remember names which come back to me with their unique tenor and symbolism. Sanjh- the evening. The glory of twillight, with the fiery sun receding to cooler waters and tiny stars waking up in the young night’s shroud of mystery. The setting sun holds the promise of a new tomorrow-new hope to begin anew, and the poignancy of its departure from the azul sky peppered with clouds wafting by. Sanjh will witness the evenings in every part below the sky.. just-lit chulahs puffing to satisfaction, the kuthu-velaku lit and adorned with flowers in the courtyard, the diyas in front of the Tulsi, cars whizzing home carrying weary parents to their young ones, young ones beginning their ‘day’, the lone wolf scurrying further into the darkness in the light of civilization…

Raahi, the traveller. How many paths has he tread upon? How many suns has he seen rising? He entwines the constancy of purpose with momentary change. I am reminded of Melquíades- Garcia’s creation, no doubt, but he lives on in each one of us- a little voice beckoning us to board that chugging train to nowhere, drive without consciousness of day and night, ride the mighty winds..

“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost”
- J. R. R. Tolkien

Artagnan.. Knower of all meanings. The knowledge-seeker, a gleaming beacon of truth standing tall in this world of hypocrisy. d’Artagnan-ring any bells? Alexandre Dumas wrote about this Musketeer’s escapades in the triology of the d’Artagnan Romances. d’Artagnan means from Artagnan in French and is often equated to a leader.

 

Knowledge is Power

 

Then again…even fractals have perspectives…

 

Rather touching poem….

–A Simple Child,

That lightly draws its breath,

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:

She was eight years old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

–Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said

And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the church-yard cottage,

I Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven!

–I pray you tell,Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;

Two of us in the church-yard lie,

Beneath the church-yard tree.”

“You run about, my little Maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the church-yard laid,

Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little Maid replied,

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.

“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.

“And often after sunset, Sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.

“The first that died was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.

“So in the church-yard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”

“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little Maid’s reply,

“O Master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

‘Twas throwing words away;for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”

— William Wordsworth

 

Seashore

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead
and the restless water is boisterous.
On the seashore of endless worlds
the children meet with shouts and dances.
They build their houses with sand
and they play with empty shells.
With withered leaves they weave their boats
and smilingly float them on the vast deep.
Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.
They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.
Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships,
while children gather pebbles and scatter them again.
They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.
The sea surges up with laughter
and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.
Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children,
even like a mother while rocking her baby’s cradle.
The sea plays with children,
and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
Tempest roams in the pathless sky,
ships get wrecked in the trackless water,
death is abroad and children play.
On the seashore of endless worlds is the
great meeting of children.

– Rabindranath Tagore ji

 

The Cloud

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,

From the seas and the streams;

I bear light shade for the leaves when laid

In their noonday dreams.

From my wings are shaken

the dews that waken

The sweet buds every one,

When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast,

As she dances about the sun.

I wield the flail of the lashing hail,

And whiten the green plains under,

And then again I dissolve it in rain,

And laugh as I pass in thunder.

I sift the snow on the mountains below,

And their great pines groan aghast;

And all the night ’tis my pillow white,

While I sleep in the arms of the blast.

Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,

Lightning, my pilot, sits;

In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,

It struggles and howls at fits;

Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,

This pilot is guiding me,

Lured by the love of the genii that move

In the depths of the purple sea;

Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,

Over the lakes and the plains,

Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,

The Spirit he loves remains;

And I all the while bask in Heaven’s blue smile,

Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,

And his burning plumes outspread,

Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,

When the morning star shines dead;

As on the jag of a mountain crag,

Which an earthquake rocks and swings,

An eagle alit one moment may sit

In the light of its golden wings.

And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,

Its ardors of rest and of love,
And the crimson pall of eve may fall

From the depth of Heaven above,

With wings folded I rest, on mine aery nest,

As still as a brooding dove.

That orbed maiden with white fire laden,

Whom mortals call the Moon,

Glides glimmering o’er my fleece-like floor,

By the midnight breezes strewn;

And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,

Which only the angels hear,

May have broken the woof of my tent’s thin roof,

The stars peep behind her and peer;

And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,

Like a swarm of golden bees,

When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,

Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,

Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,

Are each paved with the moon and these.
I bind the Sun’s throne with a burning zone,

And the Moon’s with a girdle of pearl;

The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim

When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.

From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,

Over a torrent sea,Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,–

The mountains its columns be.

The triumphal arch through which I march

With hurricane, fire, and snow,

When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,

Is the million-colored bow;

The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove,

While the moist Earth was laughing below.
I am the daughter of Earth and Water,

And the nursling of the Sky;

I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;

I change, but I cannot die.

For after the rain when with never a stain

The pavilion of Heaven is bare,

And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams

Build up the blue dome of air,

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,

And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,

I arise and unbuild it again.

– Percy Shelley

 

Ocean Oneness

Silence is round me, wideness ineffable;

White birds on the ocean diving and wandering;

A soundless sea on a voiceless heaven,

Azure on azure, is mutely gazing.

Identified with silence and boundlessness

My spirit widens clasping the universe

Till all that seemed becomes the Real,

One in a mighty and single vastness.

Someone broods there nameless and bodiless,

Conscious and lonely, deathless and infinite,

And, sole in a still eternal rapture,

Gathers all things to his heart for ever.

– Sri Aurobindo

 

Song Of A DreamOnce in the dream of a night I stood
Lone in the light of a magical wood,
Soul-deep in visions that poppy-like sprang;
And spirits of Truth were the birds that sang,
And spirits of Love were the stars that glowed,
And spirits of Peace were the streams that flowed
In that magical wood in the land of sleep.

Lone in the light of that magical grove,
I felt the stars of the spirits of Love
Gather and gleam round my delicate youth,
And I heard the song of the spirits of Truth;
To quench my longing I bent me low
By the streams of the spirits of Peace that flow
In that magical wood in the land of sleep.

– Sarojini Naidu