Crisis

Poem69 — #100POEMS

You be small, I will be small

Is the silent game of Chaduranga

We’re all playing

Rewarding each other’s intentions and actions of dwarfing our existence

To effortlessly behave that roti, kapda, makan and all that we need to chase

And the canard that it is difficult and worthwhile to do that chase

Oftentimes, the universe provides humanity a chance to recoup

Few know those chances by the name of Jesus, and few others by Buddha

And there is no dearth of commoners too

Who would absorb and arrive at the secret

That “we are universe in ecstatic motion”

But as is the fate of human existence

We ignore the simple beauty of life

Deriving pleasure out of struggles

Pretending that it is all in the chase

And never really arriving at the truth

Truth that is woven into every moment

Truth that is not stale to be found in the past

Truth that is not delusional to be built in future

But the majestically simple way of truth in the present

We have designed our whole lives to be markedly blind to the reality

We are content being unhappy, chasing the mirage

Not listening to self

Not nourishing the life-force within

We are frustrated

Sometimes touching that truth momentarily

When we are lost in a lover’s embrace

Or a child’s smile

Or the beauty of nature

Those moments

Where there is no self

Where we are one with the ‘other’

But horribly pulled back into our own pity selves

We loose touch of the divine

Rejigging the whole affair of

Existential crisis