Category Archives: spiritual


You live in illusion and the appearance of things. 
There is a reality, but you do not know this.
When you understand this, you will see that you are nothing, and being nothing, you are everything.

That is all.
– read somewhere

At the proper time!

 Let us not become weary in doing good,
for at the proper time we will reap a harvest
if we do not give up. 
–  read somewhere


I rub anxiety off my face
As I look on vacuously
Would it be done?
I wonder.

The guy standing beside me
Is playing with his phone,
Burying the issues, the fights
That have been hammering him
Since early morn

The lady in front of me
Is on the phone
Tense, rubbing her eyes
She’s been awake the whole night
And fighting ’em all

Inside the glass cabin
The glass has broken
And crashed upon, well,
The ceo

I get a call
‘The diamond’s lost’, she says frantically
‘The ring that you gave me’

I continue with my stare-at-nothing
Will it be done, I still wonder
As I imagine her frantic lost-diamond face
See the guy shifting beside me
The lady flustered
The ceo rushing out
To wash the blood off

Funny how
I’m here, amidst
But nowhere, really…

Dusty Streets…

The same ol’ narrow streets
Guitar in the background
Layers of mud piercing my pores
As I walk
And attempt to connect
With Me

Sound of silence

Absolute silence
This summer afternoon
Not a sound
In the house
Except for the gentle whirr of the fan
And the tick tock tick of the clockIt’s so eerie
I despair
I re-assure myself
Everything’s cool
As I lay on the bed
And become aware

Have been caught up
In the din of the world
Have become almost deaf
To the harmony in me
To Self
And scared
Of the silence within

A poem by Bhuchung Sonam

A poem I came across…

I have truth and no force
You have force and no truth
You being you
And I being I
Compromise is out of the question
So let the battle begin.

You may club my skull
I will fight
You may crush my bones
I will fight
You may bury me alive
I will fight
With truth running through me
I will fight
With every ounce of my strength
I will fight
With my last dying breath
I will fight.

I will fight till the
Castle that you built with your lies
Comes tumbling .

Till the devil you worshipped with your lies
Kneels down before my angel of truth. 

a poem by Bhuchung Sonam, an alumnus of M.S. University, Baroda. found it on a TOI page

At the barber shop..

Waiting at a barber shop is kinda cool.

There’s really nothing specific to do and you’re at your disheveled  best. Everyone is! Guess there is a Mr Disheveled contest.

Each one out there is trying to figure out something to do while to be trimmed. There’s stacks of film magazines, news papers and stuff which are not really interesting. To pass time however, there’s this mandatory exercise of flipping thru as many magazines one can get his hands on. The more picky ones would go for the newspapers, and some would also look for business newspapers… most average barber shops don’t even bother to keep them.

For me, at my average scissor shop, there’re no business newspapers and I certainly am at my dissheveled best. I might the best there is! There’s months of preparation & inertia behind it! The time when my family members start moving around me with scissors in their hands is when I realize my time is up! ‘Thou shalt go there or suffer here’!

Sitting out there with a few people, I just look out on the street – at the rickshaws, the cycles, buses, cars, vada waales, the hustle bustle of people moving about pointedly on what should be an ‘idle’ sunday afternoon. I wonder where all these people are going, what is going on in their minds, their stories, their struggles, their purpose…

I think about what causes such an infinite restlessness in an infinitesimal . I get into a loop. I think further, I observe…

Amidst the noise, the chaos there’s so much peace. This peace is not found within the air conditioned confines of our offices, our homes. It’s only found when you spend time with yourself.

One of the polished diamonds comes out of the assembly line looking at the world in glee while pulling up his pants over his ballooned belly. His best efforts at covering his impending total baldness doesn’t seem to be working. The owner beckons me in with a wink.

My wait is over and I am about to be polished into a fine shining gem, a fine exhibit for the world. For a few months, that is!

For a permanent polish however, I’ll have to strive infinitely, consciously…