An Atheist

My breath is free from the scented smoke
And forehead does not bare any marks
No more, entangled, is my neck with the symbols of religion
The hymns, the chants and the utter in the ancient slang
Sounds like noise…
silence, now has become my prayer

The idols seem to tease me
Shapes transform behind the closed eyes
The beliefs that I believed in, have turned into narrow roads
And choices, not many left to decide
The lengthy rituals have been almost forgotten
My Will is now my source of energy

Scared of cats I was. But not any more
Eclipse I enjoy as a marvel of universe
My Donations now go into needful hands
“Deeds can do miracles”, I learnt
The black blanket of sightless faith is torn to pieces
Knowledge, is the emblem on my invisible flag

A Religion, that is free from God
A head that bows to the virtuous lord
All that the crypts and the sages say
Is just about the sublime self - undiscovered
Vigilant, almighty and hard to please
In quite hours, I think…
The enlightened form of theism, Atheism is?

The Drunkard

The door of the BAR opened with a bang
Annoyed and murmuring he emerged out of the golden light
As if thrown out of the heaven back into the dark.
Staring at the door, until the last ray of light dissolved
His lips locked over the mouth of the bottle
Like he gave it a French kiss!
And began moving, doing the dance of MJ

Frequently he alighted for one more kiss of The Soma
And again the dance followed.
Uneven, he thought, were the roads
Whenever he tripped over his own feet
Global warming! he uttered
For the earth, for him, was spinning fast

To the sculptures he told his plans
With mannequins he romanced
Ring-a-Ringa he did around the trees
And hissed at the street dogs that barked at him
At the silent corner, finally was the climax,
One more kiss, and he was at the zenith of lunatic ecstasy

Stepping over the footpath,
like an actor, he held the stage
Spotlight, The streetlights happened to be.
his biography he retold to the audience, the empty sides
He cried, laughed, angered, annoyed
He Won, He lost, suffered and enjoyed
And finally silence was acceptance.

On the bench, he lied
The eyes reflected the clouded skies
A drop of tear crawled down his cheeks
reflections of the dreams, squeezed.
The empty bottle slipped out of his hands
And his eyes closed,
Just untill the golden light would knock again
Clueless of surprise that tomorrow would bestow.

Towards The Nirvana

Immersed in the ocean of thoughts
Was prince Siddhartha,
At a window, he stood
That which showed him a forged world
But across the boundaries of his palace
Was a world that contradicted his conviction

His eyes lost into the eternal sky
His mind, wading through the torrent
of questions that had now begun to tease him
The winds that came from the town side,
those which used to kiss his tender cheeks,
now brought shouts of suffering and illness.

each blink of his eyes, brought forth the images
the painful cycle of birth and death
Illness ready to invade, youth sure to fade
On each turn of the minute, death ready to celebrate
Fear, anxiety lust and hate
Tangled is the sublime soul, freedom, it awaits

Disrobed of his pride,
Disarmed of his pleasures
searching for the pearls of ultimate truth
In the prosperous womb of solitude
Barefooted he walked, into the forest of time,
His nascent steps towards ‘The Nirvana’

Forgot To Pray

The dong of the temple bell
livened up the silent aura.
with a smile on his face,
he clapped his tiny hands together
and acquired a praying posture

Now and then, he opened his eyes
gazed at the sacred form
and quickly closed his eyes again
did he remember a new prayer?

at times his sight wandered
all over the sanctum Santorum
not at the diamond studded crown,
certainly not at the shining ornaments
then what was it, he searched for?

unaware he is of the religious rituals
Not even does he know,
the meaning of a prayer
yet, he just murmured...
A secret language, the gods knew?

Just then, his eyes opened wide
a blissful smile, conquered his face
His prayer...answered?
the poet babbled in his mind
The God himself, appeared?

And what a wonder it was...
a little Brahmin stepped out of the Santorum
his face beamed like sunlight
forehead decked with sandal,
both held hands and sang songs of merry.

forgotten was the world for a while
happiness danced...ecstasy romanced
following the tiny feet
that let him out of the temple
and the poet forgot to PRAY!