Being One With Him

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Being One With Him

Ask her. How does it feel to be one with him?
She will have no clue. For she is now a part of him. She is him.

It’s as if they aren’t two souls, but one.
They even look like one, well if you see from the distance
Their cells have long lost their own growth
Blended into each other
They’ve found a newer meaning in this union

But it wasn’t always so…
She started out differently
So dissimilar, so distant they were
But it happened
This unison – where the lost soul merged into The One.

When a small soul meets that bigger soul, then that is what happens
Losing itself – a creeper becomes a tree; a river becomes a sea
That higher soul so pure and benign; habitually embraces tainted souls
Unenlightened souls of mere mortals
Souls that have lost all hope

Many such souls have sought and got
And many more, seeking more and more
One day
They all will find Him
And merge into Him

© 2016 Alka Girdhar

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My above prosaic poem was inspired by the tree Thursday photo prompt hosted by Sue Vincent of The Daily Echo.

‘She’ is our human soul…losing herself in her beloved or in God.

If you liked this tree inspired poem, then here’s another similar poem You Lose and then You Win. I’m sure you will like it.

Laila’s Brother – a short story

As she switched channels on television, Laila paused to focus on one and looked intently at what they were showing.

Suddenly she shouted, “Maa! Look!!  Isn’t that brother? They are showing his pictures.”

Maa thought Laila is, as usual, day-dreaming so she didn’t come out.

Laila said it louder this time, and so Maa stepped out of her kitchen to cast a casual glance at what her ten-year-old insisted on showing.

True indeed! There he was. Her son. Various pictures of him on a TV show. His boyhood picture, and also one as a young man in a group hug. But she wasn’t too sure which one was him although she could tell.

Maa was shocked as well as too confused. “I have not seen your brother since long. Is that him?”

Now Maa was not even listening to the voice on TV, for at this moment it all felt like a dream. “You are right Laila! Of course it is him.”

His boyhood pictures – that is how Maa had ascertained it was indeed her son. And that’s the only way Laila had recognized her brother the moment she saw him on TV.

Laila had not seen her brother in real life. Not exactly, as she was almost a baby when he left home without telling anyone. But she had grown up seeing his various pictures that she often saw in her Maa’s hands. Pictures Maa carefully kept locked in her wardrobe – a young boy flying a kite, a simple student engrossed in his books, a devout praying to the Almighty, and many more.

Admiring these pictures, so many times Laila had secretly wished she could see her brother once, and play with him. She had heard stories that her brother was a bright and sharp-minded student so she aspired to be like him.

And now…intently watching her son on TV,  the dazed Maa said “Laila, that’s what he looked like when he left home. Only twelve. Still baby faced. But what is he doing there?”

Laila was not listening anymore, and not even watching TV. Soon she sneaked out and got busy playing with her friends.

Maa changed the channel but her son was on this one too.

“Hang on! What’s that?” she murmured to herself as she looked closely, for this channel showed more of his pictures. She had never seen her young boy carry a huge real gun in his hand. She suddenly remembered he was very fond of toy guns. Always.

With her hand on her mouth, she sighed “He had a fighter in him. But God! What has he been up to?” 

This time Maa paid attention to what they were saying. The female newsreader referred to him as ‘Mastermind’. He had fought with the whole world. He had taken lives. He was the vile schemer who planned it all, she heard that voice say.  But how can she believe that her innocent boy can do all that?

Maa was sobbing incessantly. Her eyes glued to the TV, tears blurred her vision and she couldn’t see clearly what they showed. She began to remember his childhood even more.

As a boy he was a rebel. As a seven year old he fought with the whole community that he won’t allow a goat to be killed in the name of sacrifice. When did he become a butcher? She wondered. At what age did he first kill a human being?  14? 17? Or later? She’ll never know, thought Maa.  He also wanted to do big things; wanted to be famous. So this was the big thing he did now? He has become popular all over the world!  Maa cried as she thought of all this. Now the whole day, media will broadcast his name, relay news about her 24 year old boy behind some major killings. Did she give birth to this dreaded man? 

The more she thought of him, the more Maa couldn’t contain herself. Again and again she banged her head against the wall, beat her stomach that gave birth to this child, beat her breasts that nurtured him.

The whole world knew what he was up to, only I didn’t.  He has been killed and the whole world knows it. The whole world is rejoicing his death, but how can I? The whole world hates him but I can’t!  I never will. How can I? But I must”

Maa broke down. But as she saw Laila coming inside, she wiped her tears and switched off the television. She also decided to not let Laila see any TV for a few days. She didn’t want Laila to hate her only brother.

Laila came in and asked innocently, “Maa! Is brother coming back?”

Maa felt like saying, “No Laila, the path he chose to walk, is only one-way. There’s no return from there.” But instead, pulling her daughter close to her by waist, she said, “I do not know, dear. Hope he does!”.

At least for now this seemed to be the right answer.  Maybe sooner or later, the older Laila will find out, but by then she’ll prepare her daughter to handle the truth.

Soon Laila went to her room feeling happy. Outside, exhausted sun was on the last leg of its daily journey. Maa switched off the light and sat in the dark, brooding and weaving all sorts of thoughts.

~~~

At that moment somebody knocked.  Maa hesitated, and then opened the door. It was police, who came to inform the obvious.

All these years she had waited for the officials to bring some news about her only son’s whereabouts. But they had no clue. Sometime back cops had come asking for him but she had no idea. Now both police as well as Maa knew it all, but the game was over.

The police went away as it came.  Maa was aware it was their last visit. Police will not come back anymore. And neither will her son.

~~~ ~~~

Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes a new story writing challenge.

Copyright © 2015 Alka Girdhar

Humanity Survives – My new religious book

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So, M.K. Gandhi seems quite confident…that in the end truth and love always win. But how to know what is true if most people staunchly believe that only their way of working is right and they claim only their belief system to be the ultimate truth and none other?

Such unilateral opinions are the cause of all the hatred in this world, and now the cause of terror in France…a blood bath that has happened so many times all over the world that we are now either perpetually scared or kind of immune to it. When things go this bad we are shaken but we get over it sooner than we ever thought we will.

What’s the solution? Maybe one day God or Goddess (yes, that’s possible) will descend down from skies or come out from the inner earth (yes, that too isn’t impossible) and set things right. Till then, we can try taking concrete steps to remove the root cause of evils.

To begin with, put a total ban on all religions. Seriously speaking, these religions were formed as per the needs of particular era and also as per the local designs of a certain land or nation-state. In their current retrograde and political form, they do not suit us in this global world when we all have decided to migrate here and there, and we all live together.

So let all world leaders get together and dispose of all the religious books. Then make a fresh start. Write a new book called Humanity Survives. This will have commonly agreeable codes of conduct. Till this is done, our cute and immature world children will continue to harp ‘My book better!’…’My book right!’ ‘My God the true God!’ ‘My God name the besssst!!’.

My last passage is blasphemy and will anger many. Blasphemy it is. So let there be religions. But then…don’t ever say we need a solution to all this chaos! There is none.

Just pray! Pray to God till your voice goes hoarse…and the wise old bearded man up there, sitting in his big throne chair, looks at you lovingly while saying…”My lovely children! They have so much faith in me that one day I’ll set things right for them!

 

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I’m Humanity, I look at this evil world upside down…I survive. What a victory!

* Another poem written after attack in Sydney and Peshawar

Hawked Rituals

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My Hawked Rituals

I watched the vulture looking at me hungrily as I lay on the ground bleeding and injured. Was it for this day I had come here against my parents’ wishes; hiking all the way to lofty mountains?  A slight twist of feet and down I came rolling to land on this isolated rock. Now what?  I feel dizzy. Any moment she would pounce on me to shred me into bits. 

Last minutes of life. Everyone has them. But could I have imagined this kind of end? No one will ever find my body. No last rites. No religious ceremony.

Ohhh!  And it was only last week I had argued with my college-mates, that my religion is the best; even the way it disposes off its dead. Could never help mocking at other faiths. And now? Destined to be a carcass for this scavenger.

Eyes full of tears, I start to pray, “God, please let me be alive for now! I won’t mind dying in some other way, with any ritual. Please God! Please!”

~~~

For:  Mondays Finish the Story 

Karmic Blunders

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Two Karmic Poems…

Karma, I learnt, is a real thing
You pay off all the debts you owe
You shall reap all that you sow
It all comes back, out that goes

History repeats itself
Till lessons are learnt.
If we don’t focus
Our toast will be burnt

Everyday, karma shows its ways
The day I sleep late, I wake up late.
If I give love, I get love
They give me hate, I give hate

To improve my karma
I will have to change.
They may give hate or disdain
I should give love and care

If others hurt me, I instantly cry
If I hurt others then also I cry.
To change my karma, I’ll now change
If others hurt me, I’ll never cry

Law of Karma sets me free
I have free-will to create my life.
If I change my habits now
It can improve my future life

Karma says, you do things
but aren’t the doer, He does it all.
Stay detached, work without desires
And you shall never fall…

 ~~~~~~~~

Karma chameleon changes colour
As per your own karma.

Presence of good deeds is good karma
Presence of bad deeds is bad karma
Absence of bad deeds, good karma?
Absence of good deeds, bad karma?

Doing no deeds, is also karma
Thoughts and intentions also karma
Good thoughts are good karma
Bad thoughts are bad karma

Your karmic blunders ripple
to your children’s karma.
As they pay and emulate
the exemplar of your karma

~~~

So you agree with my above thoughts? Feel free to comment and share your views.

download (2)

Karma Chameleon

© All rights reserved by alkagirdhar.wordpress.com 2015

Faithless Interview

Bewildered that I was
which fictional character
apt for the Interview?

My atheist son
came from nowhere
thus resolved my issue…

What’s the confusion?
Open a religious book
characters there are many

Geeta, Bible, Quraan, all
Krishna, Jesus, Mohammed, all
pick one, pick any.

The heroes of these stories
want you faithfuls to love
you became each other’s enemy??

~~~

I don’t endorse
all of his views
I believe in One and all

As usual I snubbed him
At times, pictures work
when all verbal logic falls

womb_atheist

Are these unborn atheists also fictional?

~~~

I previously had a similar argument with this wannabe physicist/scientist.
Please read  Agree to Disagree.

The above poem was in response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: The Interview
“Interview your favorite fictional character.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/the-interview/

 

Picture source: baby

© 2015 Alka Girdhar

Awesome Three

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Three Letter Words
do they not like?

But three makes sense
Things happen in threes

~~~
Divinity comes in threes…
God – The Omniscient, The Omnipresent, The Omnipotent

The Holy TrinityFather, Son, Holy Ghost
Creates, Redeems, Sustains

The Trimurti Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva
The Creator, The Preserver, The Destroyer

Buddha’s Triple GemsBuddha, Dhamma, Sangha.
The Enlightened One, His teachings, His followers

~~~

Life’s three phases
Birth, Life, Death.

Time’s three realms
Past, Present, Future.

Sin’s three types
Thought, Word, Deed

Triple shades of health
Body, Mind and Spirit

~~~

Three – Not bad
Why avoid three?

We’re often third time lucky
Count – one, two and three…

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The farmer’s wife had cut off the tails of three blind mice with a carving knife and, see how they ran.

(In Australia,  Triple Zero (000) is the primary national emergency number. Police, Fire, Ambulance –  help yourselves…)

~~~~

© 2015 Alka Girdhar

One, Two, Three!

Ornate Symmetrical Spirits

The set of pictures below show how ornate places of worship and spiritualism imbibe symmetry in their structure so as to create harmony, peace and an environment suitable for meditation and prayers.
Religious people know very well that human life is short-lived but these stony structures will exist for a longer time.
(these pictures were cited via google search)

The first picture:  Lotus Temple (Bahai religion) at Delhi, India

Lotu

                                                 Lotus Temple at Delhi, India

Next four pictures:  Church of Hallgrimurat Reykjavik in Iceland. The church has symmetry in its minimalist expressionist architecture. 

Hallgrimskirkja_kedriki-

Pic source: Architravel

(Reykjav?k, Capital Region, Iceland)

Pic source: Panoranio

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The last two picturesSomnath Temple in Gujrat, India.  Very ancient temple with a long history of survival against all odds.

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Somnath Temple, India: pic source bhatibhav

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                                 Somnath temple: pic bhaktibhav

See world’s most beautiful symmetrical mosques here
Also, Buddhist temples in Bangkok mentioned at travel.cnn 
Of course, there are many other temples, churches, mosques, pagodas renowned for their symmetrical architecture. Places like Golden Temple (Sikhism), Golden Temple (Bangkok) and many other the world over.

***

My first entry Symmetrical Minds for the weekly photo challenge Symmetry showed a picture depicting impact of perfect symmetry at a place of education

My second entry for the challenge Symmetrical Luxury had pictures taken by us at a place of luxury abode.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Symmetry and Ornate

Affirmation

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Affirmation

Are you real?
Or we humans
Hallucinate you are there?

I was born
Have lived on till now
Wake up alive each day.
Your little marvels

I get to live
Each day – a good life
Eat, drink and smile.
Your little miracles

Time and time again
I get myself into strife
And you – my life’s boatman
Come from nowhere
To reset my life.

Have more than I deserve
Each day I encounter you
Each day I bow –
to you and your wonderful
gift of life.

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image credit: wholeyoga

Alka Girdhar
© All rights reserved 2014

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My poem was in response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “In Good Faith.”
“Describe a memory or encounter in which you considered your faith, religion, spirituality — or lack of — for the first time.”

In Good Faith