A Conversation With My Boss

GM.
I’ve been trying to contact you since so long.

I am with you.
This scattered scared mind that you are experiencing – that is also me. There is literally no difference between me and you.
Do not seek me. Experience your self. That is where I am.

I experience you as an entity different from myself. Clearly there are some things that I did not do.
You barged into me in Charlotte. That one sentence you spoke in Bangalore out of nowhere – that was not my doing.

All this depends on where you pin the word “I”.

I ≠ Vani Murarka

You ≠ Vani Murarka

Vani Murarka → management construct.

Vani Murarka → does not exist.

When you say you want to merge into me, first and foremost it means you want to be free of this limited fictitious entity “Vani Murarka”.
Second you want to experience I = you.

That is a truth.

I = you.

Only I exists.

That is the final truth.

It is not a small thing that I is written in capital.

You do not seek God.

You seek freedom.

Freedom from limitation.

Freedom from fear.

You shall never be free from your awareness of your self. And your self is not limited to the label assigned to your body.

self = Self

You can experience any corner of the universe that you may wish. Because – there is only one Mind.

Your wish is your command.

That thing you were thinking of yday night regarding Donald Trump –

Yes, he is in pain.

He is in pain if you term it pain. Else it is a dance of energy.

Universal energy.

The terminology you use determines your view of the world and your self.

You are the boss.

You need not protect “Vani Murarka” (or “Kaavyaalaya”). Yes, You do need to live Your truth. And You needn’t worry about how to live Your truth – You cannot not live Your Truth – for only Truth Exists.

To The River And The Mountains

It feels good to press the accelerator of the car. The cool wind on my face feels good — so also seeing the profile of your smiling face, the changing landscape on land and in the sky. A long drive feels good.

We started when the sun was setting, driving into the sun, the pink, purple, and deep blues. Now the pink and purple have eloped with the sun and the sky has adorned itself with that one regal evening star — the queen of all the stars that will soon make their appearance.

“Where do you wanna go?”

“That river.”

“Good that we have our camping gear in the trunk. We can camp there for the night if we want.”

“Let’s see.”

So we drove. To the right of town. 70 kms away.

.

It is 8:30 p.m. now by the time we have reached here. There are mountains on one side, the gurgling river beside it, and this open land on this side of the river — covered with grass interspersed occasionally with boulders — nature’s chairs placed so thoughtfully for us.

“I just want to sit with you, in your arms, beside this gurgling river for a while — before we fix dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I am looking forward to the sushi though.”

“I am looking forward to the beer.”

“Ok. You, your beer, and patient me — but only two cans. Then we dive into dinner.”

“How about diving into the water?”

“In the morning. Am too tired just now.”

So here we are — on this flat long rock, a natural bench that mother nature has placed for us.

“I love you.”

Your lips on mine. Not kissing. Just there. For long. At least it seems long — eternal.

Then you turn your face to gulp beer again, and pull me close.

We are immersed deep into the quiet now — the quiet of the gurgling river and the humming crickets of the night, the moonlight dancing peacefully as silver varak on the water as it navigates the rocks and pebbles, the mountains rising high in the backdrop, black in the night, but not pitch black.

“I am hungry now,” I say an hour later and spread the sheet on the ground. You light a fire. Roasted veggies and garlic bread for you, cold sushi for me. You toast the bread on the fire and warm the veggies. We eat. The fire sings a crackling composition for us.

***

It is the wee hours of the morning. The sky has not opened into clear blue, nor its special sunrise hues for the day. The birds are up and about though. With a gentle snore, you are still sleeping. It’s fascinating how I feel more relaxed and peaceful if you are relaxed than if I am relaxed. I go to the river and splash my face with the crisp clear water, made crisper still by the morning chill. Soon I’m immersed in the water — immersed in the flow of never-ending love.

After a good easy half an hour I finally step out of the river. You are squirming in the sleeping bag. Your eyes open dreamily. Our eyes meet and there is a silent acknowledgment, a gentle love. My heart settles further into the soft bed of contentment.

On the patch cushioned with lush grass, I do some yoga — nothing fancy, just some Pawan-muktaasana, and fill my lungs with the fresh morning air. You catch a quick 10-minute meditation on the rock where we’d eaten dinner. For long you simply look at the shaking branch of a tree on this side of the river, then a small bird with rich blue feathers catches your attention. Now, for long you are immersed in how that tiny frame is so full of the most natural life. You feel as though you are communicating with it — which you are. Eventually, your eyelids gently descend as, in your being you make the universe your own.

We pack up. All camping gear dismantled and folded into the trunk of the car, we head back. Soon we will partake of some piping hot idlis and chutney at our favourite morning joint before you drop me off at my office and carry on to yours — but right now, as we drive back with our eyes and chest filled with the peace and life of the entire universe, we are silently One.

threesome

One night You had encircled me.
No, that night You sandwiched me.
From one side You came as You
From one side You came as Him.
Then I remained just as a mite
Floating in You infinite.

*

I float in Your power
boundless
And Your arms
encircle me
Two black, two white —
and so the dance
of duality
is not a challenge.
It is my haven
It is You.

I float in Love
infinite
I live in You.

Waterfall

I want to feel this body
rub against Your body,
this breast pressed
against Your mouth.

The 3-D roundness
of Your body, and its shape,
and its weight,
as those legs
keep these legs in check…
let my senses drink.
These fingertips, let them caress
Your being.
Let me smell Your sweat
as I did that day.
Your voice in my ears ―
let it water my deepest being.

Oh! Where are you?

This thirst in drips
keeps me alive.
Give to me the waterfall.

***

The Gift Of The Night

Now that the day is done
There is only You and me.

The night is precious
For it brings
You and You and only You.
You who are forever here,
How precious that the night
Still brings
Just only You.

There is every moment left
To love You by and by,
For now, I shall kiss the night
How sweet it’s gift,
Then maybe I shall also kiss
You, but just a tiny bit.

My heart, my lips
My every cell
Are all so busy loving You.
Where is the time?
So my love, for now just this
Just a tiny little kiss.

The Place and The Moment

You are the place
and the moment
where
everything comes
to a pause
for a moment.

You are the place
and the moment
from where
everything forever flows.

You are the place
and the moment
where
words die out
silence remains
and words are born.
Where I am born.

A Conversation With My Boss

Ok, so here — this hand is yours, this notebook, pen is yours. This mind, heart in whatever state it may be in, is yours. Write. Write tomorrow’s article.

I am not particularly interested in tomorrow’s article. I am only interested in you. You are not at ease right now, I want to put you at ease. I want to assure you that I love you and that you have absolutely nothing to be scared of.

Thank you.
Now write what is to be written on the blog tomorrow.

वही तो लिख रहा हूँ।
तुम बहुत चिन्ता करती हो — ठीक से लिखा होना चाहिए, coherent होना चाहिए, it should make some positive contribution for the reader, yada yada yada…
कितनी बार बताया — कोई है नहीं यहाँ — तुम्हारे और मेरे अलावा। किसको पढ़ाओगी मेरे अलावा? कौन लिख रहा है मेरे अलावा? तुम तो चिन्ता करने में busy रहती हो। सब कोई को हिन्दी आती है कि नहीं, सब कोई को अंग्रेज़ी आती है कि नहीं।
तुम चिन्ता करने में busy रहती हो, मुझे ही सारा काम करना पड़ता है।

You want to show yourself off by publishing this conversation?

I want to show you off. How utterly fantastic you are.
तुम चिन्ता करने में व्यस्त रहती हो फिर भी you are utterly fantastic.
Anup को कह रही थी chill maadi. खुद भी तो chill maadi! कहती हो fun is the only purpose पर फिर भी चिन्ता करती रहती हो।

मैंने तो ऐसा कोई भी ब्रह्माण्ड नहीं बनाया जहाँ चिन्ता is fun.

Have fun Vani. Have fun.
You used to say Funning is your only profession, so why aren’t you doing your job? Your job is not to be wise. Your job is to have fun.

The thing I want to say is not said in public…

Read. My. Lips.
There. Is. No one. Else. Here. Other. Than. You. And. Me.
Say what you want to say.

I love you.

I love you too. Very very much.

Koochi-koo is not to be done in public.

The correct sentence is:
Koochi-koo cannot be done in words.

black

“What was he doing, the great god Pan, down in the reeds by the river?…”

Sometimes some poem stays in us for years, to decompose slowly. So it was with The Musical Instrument by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, decomposing in me for years. I had read it when I was in high school. It is about the making of a musical instrument from the reeds of a river, or rather how we are hollowed through and through by the experiences of life that we may become a channel for the music to flow through us. While all this happens, even if we know and understand what is happening to us, the one hollowing us sure feels like a half-God.

A few years back I wrote a poem that was directly inspired by Elizabeth Browning’s poem.

black

i have no endeavors no more
i’m ready now to be hollow
black and decomposed
sometime someone will see and say
oh what a beautiful flower!
aah, what a silly joke.
did you see the rich compost?
creeping worms in filthy stench
where does the lotus grow?
how do the juicy berries grow?
i am ready now to be hollow.


And now, I invite you to enjoy the masterpiece – A Musical Instrument by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Full heart, Empty Hands

Full heart

Empty handed.

Cannot do
Anything
To melt away
His pain…

Live with this
Reality.
That’s all you can
Offer him.
Sit with him.

Miles apart