mindset

when the mind has a cataract
it cannot see the truth as a fact,
when the screen is removed
the scene is clearly understood

#mindset #knowledge #wisdom #knowingness #truth

Spirituality means taking responsibility

 

When you have shed your feathers
be unashamed,
say what you want to say,
spirituality is the only way;
let the intellectuals scorn at you,
let the atheists laugh at you,
let the theists, agnostics bully you,
let the fundamentalists be after you,
let them not listen to your point of view,
let none accept you in their fold
be unafraid, be bold,
say what you have to say,
spirituality is the only way.

By paying for everything
to get the work done is a
lazy thing, a heavy price we
have paid, and continue to pay
for the sake of fun, the same show 
is still going on, like puppets
on the stage, we are playing
high and low.

Science has made us indolent,
comfort-loving, opulent;
the frog in us is surely dying,
but we think we are swimming.

To save ourselves from extinction,
we need spirituality, not science,
our determined and guided
action will help,
no laziness or defiance.

We have seen how
science divides,
and how
spirituality unites.

We need to focus on the inside,
not get lost on the outside.
True, the fruits of science
are easy and attractive,
for attaining the benefits
of spirituality,
the labour is intensive,
for this reason alone, we
cannot throw the benefactor
from the throne.

Spirituality helps, it heals
science hurts, it kills, be bold
to embrace spirituality,
it means to take responsibility
for the entire world, make it
a fetish, for only then
can science be a boon,
not a bane.

Science without spirituality,
a boat without a rudder,
bondage sans liberty,
words without feelings,
let none put them asunder.

 #science  #spirituality  #mindset  #peace  #harmony  #responsibility  #world

The arrogance of science

The arrogance of science

has walked over spirituality

for long, merely because

it's not applicable for all, 

it discarded levitating, the

power to roam in one form

in multiple places at the same

time, the wisdom to leave the 

body as tricks, undermining 

them as black magic. 

True, it cannot be achieved 

by bribing anyone, for this

one has to sincerely practise

for days and for years;

in the ancient times, countless

rishis, men and women alike

had the know-how to engineer

their body and their mind. 

Science had delivered imbalanced 

growth, insane miseries and debacles, 

spirituality had empowered self with 

balance, with jaw dropping miracles. 

If only the science of spirituality

be understood and exercised, 

we'd restore our lost sanity, 

regain the power of our mind. 

Waste no more time, 

dear friends, sit and 

meditate, experience a 

blissful world for yourself. 

Let science and spirituality

walk hand in hand, 

let peace, prosperity for all 

be the law of the land.

নতুন ডাক

আমি যখন ছোট, তখন

দেখেছি, বাড়ির দরজার

সামনে চটি আর জুতোর

ভিড়, বাড়িটা গমগম করত। 

এখন কলিং বেলটা প্রায় 

অকেজো, ওটা বাজিয়ে যে

কোন কাজ হয়, চাবি খুলে

ঢুকতে ঢুকতে সেটা ভুলেই

গেছি। ওয়েলকাম লেখা 

পাপসটা ফ্যালফ্যাল করে

চেয়েই থাকে। 

এ একাকিত্বের প্যান্ডেমিক, 

ঘরে ঘরে ছড়িয়ে পড়ছে, 

সহজে সারবেনা, এই ভেবে

একটা ছোট্ট বাগান করলাম, 

আস্তে আস্তে নতুন অতিথিরা 

আসতে আরম্ভ করলো, আমার 

কলিং বেল-এর সুর পাল্টালো, 

রকমারি পাখির কিচিরমিচির

ত আছেই, তার সাথে

ম্যাঁও-ম্যাঁও, ভৌ-ভৌ, এমনকি 

হাম্বা-হাম্বাও আছে। 

না, এরা কেউ চটি-জুতো পড়ে 

আসেনা, খালি পায়ে আসে, 

তাই পাপসের ওপর না, মনের

মধ্যে একটা ছাপ রেখে যায়। 

the far end (three small poems)

the sea,
the sand, the waves
return to the moon,
the stars, and the sun,
nights and days
in the infinite space,
volumes of stories
rewritten, washed away

at the beach

friends, families
spending time for
thousands of years

…

the sea roars
from end to end,
it consumes
look-alike
nights and days
year after year,
each wave,
a calendar

…

three-fourth water?
one-fourth land?
I went deep inside
to see where the
waters stand,
this could resurrect
the geographical belief
I thought of Galileo,
I saw a child who could
see an old woman as his 
wife, I thought of Ian
Stevenson, what'd happen
to the history of beliefs,
I bemused;
woke up in disbelief,
and, in a minute, went
back to settle down on
the bed of the sea

 

The best of times

I wake up. O why do I see
this suffering, this lie,
I go to sleep with the hope
of a different world, free of
wounded words,
treacherous thoughts,
arrogant actions,
but invariably I wake up to
the same world, I go back
to sleep again; with an
indomitable hope, I wake
up again, nothing happens,
nothing changes, I look at the
morning sun, the moon at
night, the disillusioned stars
like me, they give their lights
nevertheless, I sleep as I walk
through my lines, I rewrite my
poems, my bedtime, the best
of times.

being in silence

if words hadn't

taught me reticence,

I'd die in the books

looking for love

in the insipid pages

if education didn't

preach me wisdom,

I'd bring to book

the innocent world, 

in chains, no freedom

if abundance didn't

guide me to kindness

I'd cook the books with

poverty, scarcity, 

a sordid space

if I hadn't learned the 

feeling behind the words, 

I'd break the globe into

pieces, lost worlds, 

worrying wars, weapons

if I hadn't developed

the appetite for silence, 

words would starve 

in the tonsured world

with cruelty, without love

Another honeymoon

In my dream
I woke up in a
garden and walked
into a painting,
silver, golden
flowers dancing in
the trees, varied colors
shapes; with gifted
powers I invoked a quiet
fragrance in the breeze, 
I placed the sun
on the topmost branch,
from the other side
the soft moon was oozing
juice that melted like honey,
everything looked small,
perfect, I was big enough
not to get in

I wondered why I
wouldn't fit in, I felt a
pain in the eyes
that sensed the death of
this strange world,
they had to open,
I'm alive why,
a voice whispered,
to die again in the
womb of another
honeymoon

the presence

when we leave, 

we leave behind

our memories, 

the stories hang 

around as reveries

in all the branches

of the tree from where

the leaves had dropped

in hope or in despair, 

we aren't there in the scene

anymore, but we're to be 

seen all the more, 

the absence is consumed

by the presence that

forever grows, blooms

A reminder

Oftentimes

it needs effort to see

what's closest, 

could be a friend, 

a soulmate, or

an opportunity;

everyone knows

where the nose 

is, but it invariably 

escapes our gaze, 

our eyes don't realise 

its presence until we 

focus to experience 

its existence.