Requiem of dead love

” Far away in those lands of lights and brilliance, where darkness exist only in shadows.”

1: In her room
When I look into you, there’s a need which is only because you want to be far away from your loneliness. It’s me now, and then him, it’s just like another day, another night, another moment. Who cares for love, as love is not to kill oneself, love is far away from our reality. I haven’t seen and heard a sense of love, as I doubt it exist. There can only be need, an obsession, an obstinate will.
He looked into the mirror, glance countenance and thought of love which he never experienced.
He also noticed the unfamiliar sound of his head. He exclaimed, I don’t believe in love, and rushed out of the room.
She lies in blood over the floor, with short breathes and thumping heart. Her eyes wet, as he couldn’t see the love of her, even though she slit her wrist.
Somewhat he was right, as it can’t be love. Love can’t be proved. It’s just like an air, you need it to live.
She saw him entering back with some cotton balls and bandaids. He cleaned her, and put the ointment, wrapped her and took her over bed. Irritatingly he asked her to close eyes and sleep, this is enough for today, don’t make things more hazardous for us. Stroked her hair into sleep. She was calm inspite of the scene, as he was there close to her, caring for her, unregarded of the condition of him and the type of difficulty she put him into.
She went to sleep, and he sat along her with feeling of disgust and cheated. His mind rovers all night long, and with feeling of disdain he too fall asleep.
2: Few weeks later
He was confused with himself, as obsession of her somewhat charmed him, and let him feel the goal of someone’s life. He unwanted come across the memories related to her. It was time to redeem so he journeyed for her last wish.
I guess, will be going to meet her parents and tell them the truth. They deserve to know it. I thought much of it and this is the only way I could come out of it. I can’t live like this anymore.
3: On the way
He prepared his mind and thoughts, as bewildered of how he will be going to present the truth. It’s hard and consequences of it, would vanish his identity. Many times he thought of return back but the push of coming over it tend to keep him moving. He took off the cab, and asked few the address he had scribbled on the paper year back.
Do you know where is this resident? And after some attempts he stood in front of the house of her. He could smell the fear of self, as he trembled while entering the gate of the house.

4: In her house
He managed to introduce himself to her father, and meanwhile her mother comes with a tea for him. It’s not required, please!
They sat quietly in the hall with the moment of awkwardness. Her father told, she told about you, you are a nice guy. He hesitantly shook his head. Her mother was quite and uninterested in any of talk. How long you knew her? Her father continued.
H: Ummm, 3 years.
F: Did she told you anything about it.
H: No
F: You told you came to say something. What is it?
H: I am sorry.
F: Sorry for what.
H: I am the reason behind all of it.
F: Don’t feel like that. We too feel the same sometime, as we couldn’t understand her.
H: No, I mean…
His eyes filled with tears, heart pounded heavily, clutching his fist in nervousness he said.
I was there that night.
He gasped, sighed, and continued.
We had an argument. I never loved her, nor wanted to marry her. It’s was her obsession, I never said, I never felt but now I feel it. I want her badly, I am sorry for all of it. I don’t know what to do now, please forgive me, I am the reason.
He continued, she cut herself and I felt it’s again a drama. I was angry on her and rushed out of the room. I wish would have returned back, fix up the things. Could stayed there for the night, healed her, could stroked her to sleep. I am sorry. I am the criminal, please do whatever you want to do with me, I can’t live by this guilt, I’ll die too, I am sorry.
And the silence occupied the room with all of them into no state of correctness.
Her mother whispered, God bless her soul!
The end!

Dream sequence~

Ego wants to know the unknown.

1. In his room
Television is on with the voices of directions to do here now. Some hypnotically voice. The person is lying on the bed and listening it unconsciously. He tried to wake up to follow that voice but the slumber was too heavy on him that he couldn't come out of his sleep and fall to the ground in attempt to be on his feet. This broke his sleep and still found himself on the bed. The head was heavy and he was bewildered with what just happened as it seems to be more real then reality itself.

2. In the office
In a meeting around a round table.
He is watching himself against the conversation and the discussions. Sitting in midst of them, he was profoundly into himself as all other happenstance going in some background.
Suddenly his superior in office asked him,
" So, How will we compensate our partners and staffs?
Coming out of himself, he stared into other eyes for moments.
S: Hey, I am asking to you!
B: The interest of loss has fallen out of the economy, and I don't think is any other way to prevent this model from collapsing.

3. On road with rush
He is walking back to his place, with all the rush and noise of the city. But he couldn't feel and hear it, and walking by itself, as drugged on something. Silently he reached his home. He went to his room and sat silently with himself. He had his food and went to bed.

4. In his room
He could see the bright light coming from the window. It makes different patterns over the roof. And he slept watching it and next morning he went to office, worked, came back home. And this went on. He earned well, did good for himself, got married, raised his children well. Been a loveable husband, father and the person.

5. In his room
He is now very much old and with serene and content life, lying on his death bed. He had accomplished most of it and had satisfied life. And as he died, with its shock he come out of his dream. And found self sweating on the bed, with the bright light making patterns on the roof and the ticking of clock.


“Love is giving, the giving of whole of it, the all of it.”

The days of departure passes by with unfinished feelings of arrival. The other home offered rain with arrival. And after a day the journey started with feelings of melancholy. With unclear motives the night rambled over the asphalt with fading crescent. Crossed several geographical distinctions to reach Peo.

The twist and turns, with intermittent jolts with overhanging rocky trans Himalyas and the rushing Spiti, expanded view from green valley to the high mountains cold desert.

“The far away distant flags, with certainty of colours of nature and built houses, with kindness and freedom of being yourself, with simple and complex way of living, habituating since ages.”

Tabo, a place to surrender, with the energy of purity and highness. After alighted off the bus, followed the randomness of steps to the monastery home stay, where greeted generously with hugs and warmth of unconditioned souls. Walked round and about the paths which turned again to the monastery, an oldest of all. With cafes and home stays and the greenery in the middle of abandon, with white mountain peaks with message of silence and celebration of the moments.

“Love is ubiquitous.”

Key, with morning choice-less choice, left for Kaza, and then to Key Monastery. Kaza is headquarter of Spiti valley, with provision of trade and conveyance. An elaborate market with some of the decent stuffs and tastes. A monastery which has been restored from Komik, The Tangyud monastery, to Kaza after the effects of earth quake in late 19th century. The art is surreal, and with combination of different strokes of colours and symbolic necessities sprawled all over the roofs and walls.

An indiviadual with characteristics of lost in thoughts, Tainz, name tattooed on the hand, (its an Spitian name, with the meaning ‘very attentive person’) drove us to the Key monastery. He wore a leather jacket with rugged jeans and the green cap every day he met. He took us to Lalung, Komik, Hikkim another days, in his old bouncy tracker, with music and talks of nothing informational about the place.

Key monastery, a upright structure over the formed precarious mountains, with the similarities of earth and sky and the altitude. A hot tea offered with the arrival, and glimpsed to see the interiors of the lives and patterns of the monastic life. From the age of 4 to the age of 70, were present in the monastery. All of them gathered for the dinner at 6’o at the eve.

” Love is playful, it vibrates to and fro, in and out, in synchronous to everything.”

An entity to follow, to be wise and perfect like it, to be kindest of all, full of compassion and holiness, understanding of self and of the other, and of the existence. An institution with the purpose to be Buddha, allure for free will and repel for coercion. And some of like us who just chose to be a part of it for a day or two, just to experience and explore. A discipline in their art, in practice and in the compassion.

The morning bell, and they gathered in the temple, for the prayers and rituals, with the tea and gruel. And after having the same, departed for the other near by village, Kibber.

At an altitude of 4,270 m (14,200 ft) a hamlet, with all the essentials for the community, a school, dispensary, post office and the monastery. When arrived, the village seems to be vacated, and as strolled around found all the natives to be working together to reconstruct the temple. A conglomeration of efforts in bits and pieces, in turning deserted land into lush green vegetation, vying to connect each and every villages through bridges and roads, to do where they are, for what they are, for themselves.

“To do is to love without any coerce.”

Chicham, one of the highest bridge adjoins the gorge, which introduces the village. Kanamo Peak could be witnessed from the village, is the highest peak that could be summited in the vicinity. The man dressed in the rob of lama, took us to his home for the tea, unintentionally.

Followed the steps of him to reach the other corner of the village, and entered to his home. A dark alley with closing walls, took us into the room with kitchen and utensils in one side, and the place to sit and fire on the other, in a traditional way. He introduced his father, who was generous enough to make my mind to stay with them for a night. A tea with the sweetness of strange familiarity, a gesture of concern and the etiquettes, he shared all of it in the moment and it’s suffice for the soul to quench its thirst.

” Unconditional Love frees the mind from being somebody.” 

Lalung, reached after noon along with Tainz, mentioned him earlier. Followed the road along the river Lingti, to arrive the Lalung, a settlement of Spitians under the mountains. Other side of the river were the deep gorges and the canyons, and placed ourselves to the another home stay, with a family of four. The exterior were similar to the houses built, and the interior was perfectly refined and arranged with subtleties of orderliness.

“To use the intricacy of the mind to overcome fears of pasts and tomorrows, to live in the moment so that could love, what is happening to self at each passing of breath.”

Hiked the mountain above the village, crossed the green peas fields, water pathways, to reach the dizzy heights of the surroundings. It was windy and cold above the thought of isolation. The setting sun spread different hues and shades of clouds and sky with the
golden gleaming snowy peak.

” Silence grew louder with each step, in the presence of mighty Himalayas, just few breathes of life and acute resonance of phenomenon of understanding.”

The most amicable night of the tour, with sharing of feelings and respect of each other, with freedom to be the part of the family with no prejudices and the limitations. Cooking, eating, and watching oldest of the films that I would resist to see in myself alone. The night brings up the thoughts of dreams and reality, of ability to live in the world with the perception of time, how everything changes with the change in the self, the same moments become the life of the now, and the night of the silence, stars and the existence of the self in this very place where you belong, forever and timeless.

I couldn’t believe the strength of mankind, and see what I could offer to self. With morning chirps and coldness decided to leave the home, without saying much and goodbyes. Her elder son and the youngest daughter accompanied along us in the bus to the way to Kaza, from where Tainz took us to the Komik, Hikkim. The sharpness of the peaks and the altitude reached were defining the presence of will and the quality of life ones nurture for self in complete remoteness.

In the journey was indifferent due to the health of the stomach, which ingrained self to the quality to observant most of the time.

“What we see and what we believe is different, the ways of lives and humanity are different, but what we seek, an equanimous in deepest level of thoughts, actions and being.” 
” mind chatters everywhere, with constant manifestation of self relative to the surrounding. the situation creates to act with mind, and with every possibility of it could rover. the factual subject of interest is the absorption of mind and its capacity to look through. the routine minimises the possibilities to look through over. whether it’s an ascetic life or sybaritic life. the forgetfulness of life with its myriads of events and phenomena, changes self with its subtleties, tending to become what we are,.” 

Impermanence Temparement!

A burdensome eyes looking for clues of instances to tackle or surpass the situations. A reminder of uncertainty fails until the loss prevails. Few days accustomed with lonesome breath, watching the futility of identity, sooner than later sensations of emotions changes its colours. Dark grey clouds of limitations flew with the wind of time and the hues of nature with its impermanence temperament. 
The highest and the smallest have their own manifestation and the middle ones have been forgotten in the chase of extremities. Layers of distributions of self are infinite and random, and a seeking ability of self pursue far away for newness in everything, as near by is old and stale. 
A thoughtful walks with its own state of mind, looking and contemplating around with its own uniqueness. A constant conversation with oneself in accordance to the memory never let emotions to be clear, thus turning to be insensitive. 

It’s like less sweet thing after having sweetest turns to be tasteless, it’s not real that the other thing has gone sweet less, it’s just the indulgence in one extreme make insensitive to the lesser one. This what happening with the whole phenomenon of the body and mind, the continual impact on them with references of past made both insensitive and unaware. 

Valediction Himalyan Firs!

“She remembers every touch, every phrase, every gesture and spontaneity.”

Star was bright, inspite of its reality. Flags of prayers were shining too, and flutter with wind, carrying messages from far distant hills. Darkness of silent night, whoosh and hush of moments, drift of soul and unknown call from nothingness. An authoritarian slumber, making eyes and ears unresponsive. Laid on lap of love, with no feel of aliveness, and could hear own instincts which are purer for myself.

As metamorphosis is continual, I seek no certainty here or any where else. Yes and No’s are paradoxical enough, it’s like chasing the wind.

With few celebrations the journey started, and the belief on vision made things happened.
 “Fall was high but to fly was my choice”.

The need of escape from daily thoughts, self uneasiness, suppressions, was the critical and the reason of support to the place.
It’s a death of our efforts, our contribution to the living place, as we filled souls into the abandonment. Laughs, playfulness, cries, gatherings, trails, nights, unsung notes and whispering firs.

180 days of attempts, an understanding of self, a new finding and capability and the connection to the work, planning and sequencing.
May be its good for us. It’s back to those it belongs, it genuineness will come back, it will be cleaned and put into orderliness, but a lifeless indeed. There’s a chaos in existence and the limitations of mind will never understand the synchronicity and the requirement of disturbance.
I acknowledge all those who were the part of the journey, from birds(white throated laughing thrush, Brainfever, Magpie, Rufus, etc) to the Bholu, near by support to the distant trusts, friends and foes, children’s and adults, cooks and helpers, artists and indolents, natural and artificial, sun and rain, fall and rise, love and pain.

“As we now know, the human beings seems to be a trap set to catch onself”.

Structure of Now


We are gratifying our souls with mere words and visuals. Living in the social structure of conventional knowledge, depending on others just for utilities and concussions. Those days of wonders where each day celebrated just for being together, sharing our stories and fables just for the sake of sharing, with no motive of any gain or conspiracy, for no likes and dislikes of social media, no vying to reach out to the world coz here it was the world, full of dreams and possibilities.
The habits of thoughts of living intellectually made us more alone and incomplete than ever. Looking at a bright screen for thrill and sensations, for love and adventures. How the humans are advancing, reflects the impoverishment of the soul. We forgot to see the stars, trees, birds, Sun, Moon, Mother, Father, everyone.
We have prepared ourselves to meet the doomsday, And I say, it will happen from within.
“An eagerness to have it all, tend us to lose what we have.”
We are together, but far away psychologically, laughs and smiles are just to avoid the awkwardness of the circumstances, or when we quip on others.
Music is now an another escape from the world around, disconnecting with the real to be in numb comfortness.
Who are we now, Just arrangements of words of others, anyone can define us, anyone can judge us, and we gonna surely believe the other, as we have lost trust in oneself.
Talks have lost their meanings, we can only talk about other, but can’t talk our heart out. So much to proof our existence to parents, relatives, society and last to ourselves. Why can’t we talk without being engulfed in any type of intoxication? Emphasizing on words rather than actions, lives of others interests us more than ours.
Everyone trying to give our purpose of life, they will tell you what the life is about. The political group has one purpose, the religious will have another, and so on. Dividing ourselves into myriads of purposes, and in relation, we forgot the purpose of oneself and therefore living in just confusion.
Out of confusion we believing all of our life. Our Love, Our anger, our emotions, they are the outcome from confusions.
Lo, And we are living superficially.


Sitting in the midst of tweeting tweets, with eyes closed and heart open. 
As I melt down with feelings, there’s a silent insight of unexplored love for myself. The one who doesn’t want to hurt others so couldn’t hurt by itself. I revolve around my own being, for love, trust, faith, hope and ambition. 

Caring is courageous. I care for myself, and bestow to the caring. Just a touch of care, a sigh of closeness, a warmth of understanding, and the thoughts wandering. A blanket of care under and above. 

My silence is louder than my words. More fluent in silence, holding my hands for the infinite to swallow my being into nothingness. 

I see my shadow disappearing in the darkness of night, and I seek for it, as to feel not alone in this illusory world. As aloneness itself is an illusory. Being in self triggers the unworthiness of thoughts, of projected dreams, of quest of selflessness. 

To Be!

What is to be?When it is the truth, of Me.

The music of existence resonating in my cell,

Sometimes heard and sometimes missed,

Living as being lived,

Or destined to live up to death,

Thought is life, & relative is true too,

As air kisses the forehead & light guides me through,

Water of love satiates & earth’s womb to grow,

Energy is life, & relative is true too,

As body is tool of mind & relative is true too,

What to negate! As everything seems to be true,

This is life which you meant to be You!




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“Oh Sun! You and your charm,
Thee remained still and let the things grow,
Make the Moon shone and never let us know,
Every bit posses dark side but never think thou,
Pray for long life oh you mindless soul;
Golden rays with brisk overrun,
Filling colours in this black and white heaven,
You might be oblivious painter,oh you begotten Sun,
Air is thy brush, Oh thee God’s Son;
As you set low, rise to another hemisphere,
Still with your reminisce essence in the atmosphere,
All sentient beings to home as you disappear,
See thou in the morning, Ho! Life’s sphere.”

Blazing Sun of day rolled over the edges of mountains peaks with emblazoned sky, as ascends along the mid air the energy flows into the directions of life and beauty of its presence.

A distant view of silhouettes of peaks with quest to know and feel the presence of them always flavoured the mind with grandeur of it as unknowingly moved inches near to its stillness. A traveled road of past and the trodden paths of peaks, could satisfy the being with the thoughts of undreamt dream.

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In evening dusk of isolated peaks and laden meadows under shade of fiery stars, zig-zagged to the place of shelter. With each step towards the apogee, the fragrance of  cold waves of mountains accrued,along the exhibition of peaks up to the vision of disappearance.

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People with similar stories to be shared with the warmth and regards of the hills which outwardly cold but inwardly flowing with intense passion of compassion.

“How easy to befool oneself with loud words”.

The night prolongs with each exhaled breathe which vanish into the moment like waves ebbing away into infinite, and the whole stillness of earth could be measured just by living into the moment. A wondrous sky full of treasure beholding myriads of existence sprawled around itself, with slightest movement of earth transforming darkness into light, as the pinnacle of Moonlight called us from the midnight.

An echo of separateness from oneself rebounding again and again as climbed to the apex of Chandrasila, with every bit of freezing air blowing through body and soul, as waited for the energy to flow which united both of us for someday long.

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“A seen is seer, as vision is clear, near to them, the feeling is real.”

The caw of crows with chirps of altitude sparrows, and unfurled flag reminds to be on top, as the sunlit peaks with shadow overrun by distant valleys, and the one on one pebbles put onto together.

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Subliming rocks of ice-crisp summits as mystic’s words of silence inscribed over scriptures. A history of existence could only be imagined but cannot be experienced, as solitary flame of self tries not to extinguish in midst of quest of its isolation.

Tungnath, devotion and divinity, with its all reasons to be, as sacredness lies in oneself, and certainly every bit of movement transmits energy as every place comprises its own energy. The rituals followed, with its significance of blessings, with its unexplored meanings and beliefs, as denial could hurt energies around, or one’s thought of being against the mighty.

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“Everything is in time when living through it, as timeless space exist when just looking at it.”

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Several hamlets passed in the search of one’s destination, as journey elucidates not the arrival.A Sound of stillness with instinct sporadicly conversing with oneself and others. A temple of Sari and its ease fulness offers tranquility, with calf around grazing constantly up to soul. And the trek of Deoria Tal, mirroring Chaukhamba peaks altruistically, with its emptiness.

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An open sky with glitterings around, and the motionless air carrying infinity with voices in head, as real temporary senses arising and falling into its vast expanse of every-thingness(if could say so), Its beauty, stillness, vastness, friendliness, togetherness and also nothingness.

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A Walk to unsaid parallel division of existence, and the occurrence of life in its totality, with its blissful vibes and serenity. An onus of freedom to be what is is to be, to care of moments of reality!

Swinging walls of thoughtless mountains

    Swinging walls

of thoughtless mountains

Meeting ends of points


Fall 2015


Instance of arrival of life with the rising Sun, as melts all its memories of past and future, for being young and anew as formless form”.

Loped down with wind to be in time for time. And as crossed valleys of inhabitants of different lives and ways, forgetting myself and identity with time in time, but with sporadic incoming habits of recognition and attention.

Where we being to? Nowhere! Roaming around within self with physically to different places.

Thoughts of happenstance to be what we want to be.

An old jalopy rolled through into the mountainous ranges, with crescent of waning moon. As mind rushed from hither to thither, with notions of life and present moments of observations. A deep seeing of walls next to jalopy’s window, running streams collapsing into river, twinkling lights of untouched villages, and the peaks that couldn’t be seen without raising one’s head.

“Assumptions of situations beholding as many perceptions as many minds and thoughts.”

sleeping lady

The moment that remained silent and motionless, and the brightest star of the sky glimmering over the sleeping lady peak, as strolled around with thirst to unravel limitations of self prejudice.

A journey to unknown with the significance of self established notions of destination and the eventuality of incidents which could only be imagined once in a while. An experience of experienced thoughts induced the feelings of better sensitivity of mountains and its proximity. As river rolls and the winds of evening begun with its intensity, which fondle the soul with new and fresh thoughts of unexplored ways of life.

The walls of dark emotions stood behind as past moments of eve away from  well-known surroundings. The talks of different worlds, of relations which suspended through air momentary, but totally, as the moment drifts, it just flew with blow and the essence sustains.

“No mind can save itself from occurrence of uncertainty .”


As the morning bells rung with the voices of this and that, an attempt to make what already told to oneself triggers the parts of selfs to accomplish the thoughts of moments. In-spite of contradictions within, vying to present what they think of us. As trudged over in rain of morning, with all the dignity and charisma, with familiar vibes of unknown, and raced within oneself to be in top of all failures and defects, which mostly overruled by thoughts of best and fine.


The serenity was real and true, but what if heart eclipsed over with fear and insecurity, and laughter are coerced to hide true identity. Attraction of body and trust to be won of others are the games usually played, but as you dip in the extremity of existence, there’s no shadow of past and masquerade.

“Dead on arrival, Right where I stand”. 

Few epitome for magical elegance of nature, and the misdeeds of humans as see through eyes of apprehension. It reminds its magnanimity with each stroke of unused moment, But hard to believe and to observe until it bawls, beyond nothing could be demanded.

Announced lordship of unfathomable temporary time, easily depleted with just missed sigh of breathe. Looking mistakenly for it into the sky, when it just slipping out just from beneath you.


In heavens of earth when crossed over valleys and mountains, florets emblazon around just as nature’s unbiased desires, floating over airs of misty mountains, since silence of centuries holds beauty inside.”