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
or
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

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Pankaj Om

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