MY FIRST POST

I am still in a trance. I couldn’t believe that I am writing this post on one of the greatest platform which is an ensemble of many talents. I follow them and read their posts quite regularly.

Many years ago, I had a life changing experience when I first got to learn about Om Swami ji. I had a dream. I fell short of words in order to describe the dream to my wife (Shyamosree). Many attempts failed over our coffee conversations. Finally, I decided to write a poem called “The Muse of Kali” to describe my vision in a more comprehensive manner. I could only do my best. After all, it was a dream that changed my life…Maa Kali changed my life.

Shyamosree is an Artist by passion. All she could do was to take my words and transform them to a Mandala Art form (shared here). I would like to acknowledge her for providing the permission to publish the art.

The Muse of Kali

Was lying down like a log in pain
Counting cracks on the damn old ceiling
Damp, disfigured and unsophisticated
Got drifted to the stinky bed sheet
With countless holes and threads
Nasty veteran with a disfigured swastika.

Then descends the sleep angel
Like an untimely rain in the midst of summer
Shrinks the world to a speck of sand
Taking me to the sea shore at the verge of peaceful death
Stared blankly at the cobalt-grey sky
Oblivious for a moment in time.

Then comes the raging tempest sweeping me off the shore
Something swiftly swaggered into my room
The black wind quite unseen, unperceived and unrecognized
Opening the rusted doors of wisdom
With dried lips I succumbed to fear
Standing like a weak and hungry child with awe.

The little girl comes running towards me with a daughterly gaze
With blood smeared lips and a serene visage
Those shining cheeks, the fiery eyes, the puffy little black arms
There was something more I can’t recall
Did I see the Holy Mother? Did I see Kali?
Introspects the raving mind.

Heard the tread of her feet as she emerges in front of me
“Keep going and do not stop my son”, said a calming voice vanishing abruptly like a firefly
How did she come? Where did she go? Will she be back again?
My ignorant mind juggled like a hungry wolf, craving for affection
Did I see the Holy Mother? Did I see Kali?
Whispers the confused mind.

Then comes the smell of dawn
Waking me up from the trance of a Baptist choir
Where is that pain and where is the misery
Fills my room with notes of happiness and dusts of sandalwood
Did I see the Holy Mother? Did I see Kali?
Questions the skeptic mind.

Cursed by a messy childhood wrapped in poverty
Lost parents quite early and deceived by relatives
But now is like a redemption wiping off my wounds
The boundaries faded between the Princess and the Prostitute
Did I see the Holy Mother? Did I see Kali?
Consoles the peaceful mind.

At present, The Mother rests in my heart
Strumming the “Surbahar” of compassion
Forcing me to unlearn by uncoupling the veil of Maya
I have conquered the fear of loss and the ecstasy of gains
Ascended up piercing into the cosmic planes of bliss
I have seen the Holy Mother, I have seen Kali
Accepts the transformed mind.

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Abhishek

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