sundarramchand
11-24-2011, 09:04 AM
Babri Masjid (Shadows (with substance !!) of a multi-dimensional reality)
In the babri masjid of my mind/subconscious,
there is a deep well filled with the unshed tears
of what could have been, of promises unfulfilled,
of tender moments and people and relationships hurt
The communion of the poets, the lovers, the ordinary men and women,
The madmen, the failures, the humiliated, those destroyed by their all too successful past,
The successful, everyone holding hands and embracing each held by the memory of what could have been
I search for my soul and that of others in these scraps of phrases and inscriptions etched into my mind,
Ripples created in this reservoir of individual and collective being
Bring forth faces and voices
But lo and behold,
I ask myself "Is this Dwarka " ?
"Is this Suri's Sasaram " ?
Are these belief systems held together by arches ?
Is the structure living ?
Lights and sound and so called "Acousto-optic solitions" hold the fluid structure together
Muslims and their hindu bretheren descend the inverted umbrella / arch like structure to offer prayers at the mosque
Now it is the turn of the Hindus to offer prayers and meditate in the recesses sacred spaces of this structure
As the onion domes transform into lotus flowers that have opened up
with the petals reaching out to another.
Now the catholics come to offer their prayers to Mary , the trinity and other saints in the pantheon
Some come to worship the mother goddess in all her forms
Still go into the inner recesses to meditate on the play of light and sound
I look up into the star lit universe and stand in awe and infinity. I offer Namaz
I point my laser pointer in the direction of a familiar face / concept and click
There is a veritable movie of overlapping images. I cry and laugh. I am reminded of the various conversations with so many women, a procession of beautiful women passes me by,
Strong, vibrant, yet tender. There is grace, friendship and beauty all around.
I am filled with memories
I attend novena. I perform a puja. I am reminded of Eliot's poem. I am in Akbar's court. I am in a garden
I see an equation floating, am fascinated by the symbols, the beauty of it at all levels as well as the intellectual elegance,
I look at the stained glass windows , the interplay of light and sound
I meditate on the upanishads, on Nagarjuna's treatises, on the various sutras, on Russell's works,on Ramanujan, the works of all the great people, the sufis
I see a Mad woman crying. I Reach out to her. I see a sad person. I reach out.
I worship Buddha, Nanak, Christ, Tukaram....
I see a Bright goose shaped flame surrounded by a halo of colors
I worship Ahura Mazda.
I see the self-sustaining energy
and wonder about how life
harnesses energy from seemingly adverse circumstances.
I am intoxicated , in a trance
Drunk on the wine of joyous mysticism
I see tapestries of light and sound all around me weaving all themes together as in a persian / bukhara carpet.
I intone "Truth dies, nay is immortalized to be the seed of something unborn, represented in the world, impinging like a hole in a carpet, on spacetime"
The ecstasy flows into a sadness and a sense of loss.
I see a familiar face from far back passing me by
I recite "In the landscapes of my mind, you are the space you leave behind, a presence felt in absence".
I suddenly shudder feeling the absence most vividly as if it had a quality of its own
And lo and behold, she appears and we have the most tender reminiscences.
She leaves and we promise to meet again
Outside, the sun is just rising
I offer prayers to the sun-god.
I appreciate the stillness
I stand rapt in the presence of nataraja, the dancing destroyer of darkness.
I remember Yeat’s lines “Nothing that can be whole again that has not been once rent”
Outside life is stirring.
People are emerging.
Things are same and yet not the same
Yet the inner essence seems to be the same
Everyone seems to have been born again / rejuvenated
It is a wonderful day. It is a wonderful life !!
In the babri masjid of my mind/subconscious,
there is a deep well filled with the unshed tears
of what could have been, of promises unfulfilled,
of tender moments and people and relationships hurt
The communion of the poets, the lovers, the ordinary men and women,
The madmen, the failures, the humiliated, those destroyed by their all too successful past,
The successful, everyone holding hands and embracing each held by the memory of what could have been
I search for my soul and that of others in these scraps of phrases and inscriptions etched into my mind,
Ripples created in this reservoir of individual and collective being
Bring forth faces and voices
But lo and behold,
I ask myself "Is this Dwarka " ?
"Is this Suri's Sasaram " ?
Are these belief systems held together by arches ?
Is the structure living ?
Lights and sound and so called "Acousto-optic solitions" hold the fluid structure together
Muslims and their hindu bretheren descend the inverted umbrella / arch like structure to offer prayers at the mosque
Now it is the turn of the Hindus to offer prayers and meditate in the recesses sacred spaces of this structure
As the onion domes transform into lotus flowers that have opened up
with the petals reaching out to another.
Now the catholics come to offer their prayers to Mary , the trinity and other saints in the pantheon
Some come to worship the mother goddess in all her forms
Still go into the inner recesses to meditate on the play of light and sound
I look up into the star lit universe and stand in awe and infinity. I offer Namaz
I point my laser pointer in the direction of a familiar face / concept and click
There is a veritable movie of overlapping images. I cry and laugh. I am reminded of the various conversations with so many women, a procession of beautiful women passes me by,
Strong, vibrant, yet tender. There is grace, friendship and beauty all around.
I am filled with memories
I attend novena. I perform a puja. I am reminded of Eliot's poem. I am in Akbar's court. I am in a garden
I see an equation floating, am fascinated by the symbols, the beauty of it at all levels as well as the intellectual elegance,
I look at the stained glass windows , the interplay of light and sound
I meditate on the upanishads, on Nagarjuna's treatises, on the various sutras, on Russell's works,on Ramanujan, the works of all the great people, the sufis
I see a Mad woman crying. I Reach out to her. I see a sad person. I reach out.
I worship Buddha, Nanak, Christ, Tukaram....
I see a Bright goose shaped flame surrounded by a halo of colors
I worship Ahura Mazda.
I see the self-sustaining energy
and wonder about how life
harnesses energy from seemingly adverse circumstances.
I am intoxicated , in a trance
Drunk on the wine of joyous mysticism
I see tapestries of light and sound all around me weaving all themes together as in a persian / bukhara carpet.
I intone "Truth dies, nay is immortalized to be the seed of something unborn, represented in the world, impinging like a hole in a carpet, on spacetime"
The ecstasy flows into a sadness and a sense of loss.
I see a familiar face from far back passing me by
I recite "In the landscapes of my mind, you are the space you leave behind, a presence felt in absence".
I suddenly shudder feeling the absence most vividly as if it had a quality of its own
And lo and behold, she appears and we have the most tender reminiscences.
She leaves and we promise to meet again
Outside, the sun is just rising
I offer prayers to the sun-god.
I appreciate the stillness
I stand rapt in the presence of nataraja, the dancing destroyer of darkness.
I remember Yeat’s lines “Nothing that can be whole again that has not been once rent”
Outside life is stirring.
People are emerging.
Things are same and yet not the same
Yet the inner essence seems to be the same
Everyone seems to have been born again / rejuvenated
It is a wonderful day. It is a wonderful life !!