Monday, August 3, 2009

Three Sadhus in a Row

me in red
the other two
you do not know
panditji from
a 750 year old
hanuman temple
in ajmer
on the left a devotee
at the Khwajahs door
on the right the head priest
of Brahma Mandir Pushkar
through my dreams
I washed up on his shores
godliness is beyond religiosity
2 Hindus a Shia Muslim
3 Indians - human
nothing more
united colors of India
as spirituality
on our bodies we wore
vande matram
a call of our nationality
in the spirit of amity
as the core
live and let
others live
we implore
poisonous puritanism
the soul of humanity
not anymore
let us live
as brothers
in peace
as we lived
like before
Jai Hind
Jai Ho

I am a Blog Within a Blog

i am a blog
within a blog
a humble recluse
your invitations
to groups
i politely refuse
my mind is a temple
of silence
i cruise
bare feet
the essence of living
i humbly
close my eyes
simply fuck shoes
i drank
i drank
i drank
one day
out of the blues
one last time
i gave up booze
a blog
as a path
to divinity
humbly as
i choose
a tiny winged angel
my darling
my muse
she me and my camera
in one person we fuse
nothing just
yet nothing to lose
a poem from
the dust of my imagination
round my neck
as a noose
pedestrian poetry of pain
embedded in words
within the delusional soul
of my dichotomy
i introduce
gushing out as blood
from an oozing bruise
a blade of a sword
my head pursues

Once many years back sleeping at Ajmer in the room my spiritual mentor I saw this temple in my dreams the following morning a Hindu priest of Hanuman ji ..took me to mentor had deciphered the message in my dream....
Brahma had beckoned me too..

The man in the picture is a Hindu priest of a 750 year old Hanuman Mandir in Ajmer he saw the Khwajah in his dream, he had himself circumcised a token of his gratitude, but is a Hindu all the same..he has spiritual prowess and powers too..I did not meet him both the trips..he follows Hinduism..but is a devotee of the Holy Saint Gharib Nawaz.

After I came back from Pushkar I began walking barefeet..

A Black Dream

a black bird
from the bathroom window
into my bare hands it flew
i grabbed it
wringing its neck
with my bare I hands slew
bleeding all over the place
on the landing
where waited a hungry dog
i threw
my wife watched me
it was a dream
i woke up
at 3 am
is true
a black dream
beyond my imagination
as a bleeding poem
it grew
sharing my
my experience
with each one of you
from the frying pan
back into the stew
a pagan poignancy
as if on cue
satanic stupor
giving the devil his due

to dale hyde

Marziya Shakir Spreads Her Wings

all her memories
all her things
like a pendulum
from one end
to another end swings
counting the days
when absence
a new hope brings

Two Bawas From Outer Space

one a sufi
the other a shia
peacefully bonding
like two bawas
from outer space
no other dreams
to chase
beyond the divinity
of godly grace
not religiosity
but humanity
a thought
once embedded
no man can ever

Man is Man's Greatest Enemy

god gifted eyes
but cannot see
man blinded by power
also a visionary
manacled to evil
man mans greatest enemy
to a karmic tragedy
man on a killing spree
the unborn child
on the threshold
to be or not to be
a part of mans
failed posterity

to ray framroze - my childhood friend from Wodehouse road Colaba...

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