Rented Spirituality
is what I call mine.
Ideas, thoughts & practices
borrowed from my beloved Master.

Basking in his glory
Roaming like a honeymooner
on his gifted tourist visa.
What started as an inquisitive flirt
has now
consummated in a sacred bond of matrimony.

The quest is
to have my own home
The quest is
to discover my own truth
The quest is
to have my own vision
at least a hallucination.

When I shall have greys, wrinkles and
a potbelly
I should have a story to tell
To be revered as a mad mad old man.
A holy mad man, Maybe!!

What good is a man if he ain’t mad
Mad men made an amazon
Mad men make a Ranjha
Mad men make a fakir
Khusrao and Kabeer weren’t sane
I believe.
The sane ones collect paycheques
I believe.

A permanent residentship
An own home
To graduate out of master’s school
Is my dream

Will I?
Do I even have it in me?
I ask myself.

A 40-day Purscharana makes my feet cold
A 4 hr Japa session makes my feet numb
Too lazy for the hard hard work
Too engrossed in desires
Mungerilal’s sweet dreams, eh!

Many people die in a rented home
I shall die too
Who am I anyway
A Nobody!!

But ah !  what a  joy
It will be to own a house
A flashy green card
A graduation cap
And a black robe
Won’t it make my master proud
At least
He shall smile. I believe.

Oh god! his smile is infectious, isn’t it  🙂

The roads seem tough
The sky appears rainy
But when he is holding an umbrella alongside
The journey shall be fun.

All glories to Swamijee