Choices

I knew not who Uncle Moon was, Krishna, when I was a child:
His was a soothing presence refreshing by His very sight and I loved Him.
I do not want to know who you are, Krishna, or what or how much you are:
A twink grips my heart with pain, I wish not to miss seeing you for a moment

And what a prankster you are, Krishna! Is it not enough, the grief,
being away from you during the chores? What need to burn the heart
this way by playing on your flute? My emotions have dried up, mirth
there is none in anything, I just wish to be lost in your bewitching smile

Like the Sun's impish smile on a winter day only to disappear behind
gloomy clouds again, you come, you charm and then vanish, leaving us
to our fates in your joyless absence? You have no choices now, either
Withdraw this ghoulish world of yours or lift the veil in the heart

more of this later:

Through the rough, through the tumble,
Through the pleasant and the repulsive,
Through the music and the noise,
Through the varying shades of darkness,
I will persevere towards Light

Through the right, through the wrong,
Through opprobium and through censure,
Through the mild and the extreme,
Through the opposing poles of opinions,
I will persevere towards Truth

Sankraman, Sankranti!

this blog derives its name from the festival that fell today this year: Makara Sankranti!

The winter ends and Surya deva begins traversing the Uttarayana. A very auspicious time for spiritual aspirants, it signifies renewal of inner energies and is a joyous occasion to welcome a new light of wisdom in our life. I miss my favourite festival of childhood: miss the kite flying with friends, miss the Pongal, miss all that colour in life. Every year this time I just wish to see the reddish brown earth of Hyderabad. As the Sun soars high up on a January mid-day, a lone kite would bravely fly into the skies intent on claiming its place in the air and cast is shadow on the earth below. to behold that shadow on a Bhogi day, that is my wish, its a joy inexpressible here.