At last I sprang up from the couch of indolence
Shattered my cup of distrust on the floor
And casting aside the burdening cape of doubt
Set into the unknown
My little lamp of faith
With a spark of passion lit
Book after book and seer after seer
I met on the way
Led me to the same path
The single one for every seeker
Unlit where no mile stone dares stand
That I trod alone
With steadfast strides
While an unholy presence
A shade darker and colder than the night
Stalked me a step behind
Droning a specious scripture
And whispering vaguely
A promise of paradise
Until a gale swept it away
When I let not my flame flicker
Many a shadow hurried by
The retreating seekers
Some driven into the citadels
That quivered in the winds
Some to the sheen of gold and glory
Some to the sirens waiting
In the obscure by lanes
Their gaudy wares to hawk
Along the way I strew
The treasures I had piled
And to the winds I flung
My silken robes of honor and rank
And perhaps somewhere near the temple gates
I lost my self
Yet I found reason again
This time a sentinel sleeping by the open gates
Instead of guarding it
His baton of logic crushed under my feet
Two steps ahead in the dark sanctum stood
An unlit lamp with a burnt out wick
That I fed with the flame that I held
And there I saw in a gushing stream of time
A tiny transient bubble
That for a moment held
Eons of dreams
Ages of pain and travails
And the Creator
Prostrate before His creation
From there I turned back
Having seen both God and Man
V K Rajan
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sheer magnificience! superb poem!
ReplyDeleteThanks. This one gave me a lot of satisfaction. Let us keep writing, there is no other way to perfect our skill.
ReplyDeleteMr Rajan,
ReplyDeleteI thought of you as an artist-poet- litterateur; never thought you are such a mystic. Your thoughts are great.
I am a Gnostic Christian, the follower of the bona fide teachings of Jesus who asked the “Fishermen” to seek the “Spark” in them and lit their lamps with those sparks. My Church that sought authority said, “This ‘spark business’ is nonsense. Don’t look inside or around you for the spark; look to the heavens; you will see your bearded Father.”
Being not Gnostic -- Am I right? -- you proceeded with the lamp in search of the Paramatman of Shankaracharya. Great! There is only one path to every seeker; milestones and signals are not required; the spark in you led to where you wanted to go.
I don’t know who followed you with that ‘specious’ scripture promising paradise. If he was a Sufi saint, his promise was not false.
Thanks Mr Kuruvila. I am glad that you could appreciate the somewhat mystical element in my poem. Although I am a Hindu by birth, I as far as possible try follow my conscience, which I feel is the religion that suits me best. I feel that the division of religions into Hinduism, Christianity, Islam, Judiasm etc. is relevant only on the physical, mundane plane. Beyond that, even the concept of religion is irrelevant. I have experienced the power of faith as also the hurdles the ostensibly 'sophisticated attributes' of reason and logic can poise in the path of our spiritual progress. They terribly restrict our freedom and it is difficult to free oneself from their stranglehold. That is why I find reason even at the temple gates, though luckily, it was sleeping. You have rightfully guessed that the concept of Paramatman of Shankaracharya has a role in this poem and I am glad that you have understood the spirit. It is the common thread underlying all religions. As for the 'unholy presence' that I sensed stalking me and its specious scripture, what I meant was the temptation of carnal pleasures trying to hold me back. I used the word pardise because I could not think of any other word that means (as per my understanding of the word) 'a place that gives all carnal pleasures' (but not the divine bliss man is capable of). I am afraid I have only a superficial knowledge of Sufi mysticism.
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