I was to

I was to sell my soul

And gather every penny intact

Of what I once perceived irredeemable

Was now in sale for the meek and mighty alike


Go for more!

The Majestic Crow

The solitary crow Sings as if it’s his first ever

Spraying his being upon the mere mortals out there

Unaware of their own thirst for the Art that he is

But never complaining is he really

As if it’s for the Singing itself that he ever began to offer his pristine soul


Day in and Day out he Sings in and out

But it’s never for the routine’s sake that he ever broke the dawn

And bestowed upon the mindless crowd the legacy of his symphonies

Who gives a damn if their boredom or rebukes aren’t the praises that he strongly intended for

At least it’s a clear signal that they’ve listened

Which in itself was a mammoth task for this day and age

The Credit of which he never longed for or desired


The mighty crow one day wants to fly till the zenith

Like those eagles do

It’s just that his responsibilities have overtaken him

Well beyond his stature and age

And that his heart ever longs for that one sincere ear

Willing to dissolve their differences till his toes

So long he waits


But don’t you misunderstand

At the end he doesn’t want your pity or sympathy

As it’s not the symphonies or the songs

Neither his being nor his might

That he refers to his art

It’s the Waiting…

And an ocean of it

Slowly dripping itself to it’s full potential

Where suddenly he is not the rebuked or the ignored

But that Majestic Whale !

Songs of which the very ocean takes up upon itself for it’s own glory

Howsoever Undefined or Disguised it might be


No Mind People

Dear you,

I LOST MY MIND! There there! No one can accuse me of hiding it. Yes its out there now. In the open skies and the open blues.

Never thought that I would be this way, and then reveal it in such a way. You know the way we say ‘Hello there !’ or ‘Its a good weather today.’

Like when in the cusp of a tea and a cigarette, someone naturally starts to expound the sermons of his life, The fruit of which was getting dry and Juicing it suddenly became more than just necessary.


Yes, now they too are saying it. Celebrating it, rejoicing it. Almost as if a chant within a chant, with no meaning of and by itself. Transmitting it further into the valley of set boundaries and set patterns, the valley where the others (?)live. Transmitting it from one to another, like a playful happening, part truth part gospel. Hoping to reach a point where they reluctantly so, become one.

And yet there are a few. Who are more than willing to strive it out into doom. Who reject to ferment themselves in the sage’s being. Who at the most call themselves truth seekers, but have a secret affair with their own concrete and set desires. Who have, almost as a self imposition, resolved to save humanity from its end and become the heroes that’ll show the way of TOMORROW. Mighty is their way! Which in their lust of seeking a later tomorrow, have forsaken their very now present.

I LOST MY MIND, but in turn had to preserve a little in disguise, enough to have a genuine conversation. To tell them, that my people aren’t bad people. To tell them, that they are just different bodies longing to have their hearts united. To tell them, that the no mind people are actually the ones who mind and who’ll mind their own and each other’s existence.

And that of whatever mind is left of me,

I’d let you smoke it out,

Or melt it with the flame of no mind-ness,

That is there deep within you too,

And make a tea out of it.

Within the cusp of which along the way, whichever you chose, you too lose something of your own.

Thank you

The No Mind Sage