Shanti Shloka

15 days spent in Sikkim.
I went there in search of peace.
and I found it. In every drop of rain.
Mist that erased mountains.
In Silence.
In sunlight.

To yellow walls.
to our bodies that we underestimate.
To remembering divinity.
and the absolute.
and love found not in fingertips
but every thing that shimmers.

much much more later.
Sacred lakes, Monks, Peace, Art, Hollowlands.
Simplicity.

Butterflies and Hurricanes

'I fell in love with a butterfly once.'

I held her in my arms.

'I want you for dreaming
not for love'

Tired heart

Summer sinks its teeth into our flesh.
I can't go on.these trains move too fast. Like snakes on railwaytrackladders.
Seeing you.Your eyes pierce through my flesh like swords.
I'm crippled.I'm afraid.I'm lost.
I pity. and your house of cards melts to the floor.

I have nothing. Not dreams. Not love. Not thoughts of my own.
suspended being.supreme predator.division of labour.
a cup to fill with coins.

"People have stars, but they aren't the same. For travelers, the stars are guides. For other people, they're nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they're problems. For my businessman, they were gold. But all those stars are silent stars. You, though, you'll have stars like nobody else."