UNREAL
The stature of the man
Who suffers and falls
Is much taller
Than the one
Who engineers his fall.
People who believe in good
Whom fate corrupts
And who commit fouls
Are finally saved
For being innocent
It is a matter of 'kirdar'
How righteous a man is
In his thought and action
He falls only when
Pushed from the cliff
What stays with man finally
Is his essential being
The unreal sheds off
Like this body
Upon our death.
ILL - USION
I was moving and moving
In a crazy passion
Thinking
I was not alone
Someone stood behind me
With me,
Around me
And beside me.
Everywhere I found
A loving presence
Which filled me with joy
And a feeling of security
That some divine eye
Always kept me
In its attendance
What a feeling it was
What a confidence
What a joy
That I possessed
The heart of a soulful being
Who was physically
So far away
Then, one day,
I found it all reduced to an ill-usion
Looked around to find
The presence had disappeared
Only an image
I could see moving around
Splintered on winds.
THE MISSING SHRINE
There was a shrine
Visited by a thousand desires
Loved by as many passions
Attended day and night
In a holy obesiance.
One day when the desires thronged the site
They found the shrine missing
They have now turned crazy
And are running riot
Looking for the shrine.
A deep wound was left behind
At the sacred site
From where
The monument of love
Had disappeared.
These desires, these passions
This restless body, this calmless mind
And this risping wound
Ye gods.
Are they not evidence enough
I did not die unloved?
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