“Come Out,come away”

When I sit in the morning outside on the deck of my boat,before the majestic purple of the mountains crowned with the morning light,I know that I am eternal that I am ananda-rupam.

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My true form is not that of flesh and blood,but of joy.In the world where we habitually live,the self is so predominant that everything in it is of our own making and we starve because we have to feed upon ourselves. To know the truth is to become true;there is no other way.When we live the life of self,it is not possible for us to realize truth.

“Come out,come away.” This is the urgent cry we have in our soul-the cry in the blood of the chick,living in its shell.

These lines are from the book “Letters to Friend” by Rabindranath Tagore from page no 71 when he was in Srinagar Kashmir(October 1915).I don’t have any words or story to take a dig ,just a prevailing silence and willing to share with the readers.

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A Little Author in Me

There is a little author in me.
Quietly gives answers to all the questions I feel.Fills me with all the excitement splendid with colors regardless of the situations.Loving yourself and little hard work is the only rule to play then only author can speak out in full way.

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Characters are laughing,playing, becoming nosier to grab attention but also singing happily in arms of the story willing to dance on my mind tunes already, ready to learn the world through me because there is a little author in me.

There is a little author in me.

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Magic To Whisper

Everyone wants to find what is the magic in me which can’t be measured in days and nights,tiredness cann’t pull it aside.

Not willing to know what would be the result, will easily spread the fragrance with no calculations.

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So want to welcome you indeed knowing the condition is open heart allowing small small appreciations.

Then only the magic will whisper in the ears yes you have captured your heaven  in the joyful tears.

Hari Bol

Pleading to Exhaust

Not impressed by world again but still want to live cheerfully happily spirit not in refrain.
Why so much still confusion  knowing that results are not my solutions.

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Enough dragged by desires so letting them go is the only way to acquire.
Oh shri hari please hold the hands of this servant pleading to forget the existence, thinking of you becomes  the only essence.
All the senses are willing to exhaust except the eyes employing tears serving the lotus feet lovingly dissolved.

Hari Bol

Prayer Seeking Tears

Can’t get enough of this extremely heart touching poem about Krishna.This beautiful poem by Queen Kunti has made me speechless about the level of devotion.

I don’t know what to write more.The only thing is coming in my mind little little steps towards Krishna is proving new exploration, multiplied joy and flow of desired tears.

Hare Krishna