Sunday, March 09, 2008

The Dance Of Shakti

She cuts through the crowd
Like a river through the rocks
Her sharp eyes searching
Fingers running through the vegetables
Turning,twisting and checking
she will only use the best
Green,Yellow,Red and some orange too
Packed in a huge cloth bag

She first lights the Fire
The primary element,the purifier
Then,she uses water
which bubbles and hisses upon the fire
She sits down with her weapons
cutting,chopping and mincing things
As she deems fit
Till you can see no difference in one
From the other

Her brow is sweaty,hair messy
She whirls like a dervish
in her small universe
Everything assembled together
she stirs them with her ladle
Like a sorcerer,muttering incantations
Dancing to the crackles of Fire
The Dance of Shakti
Till things reach a frenzy.
The liquid thickens
To a semisolid state and a sweet aroma
travels in the air,serene and calm
And suddenly,she extinguishes the fire

Silence overcomes all,Nothingness
Just a deep reverberation
The aftershocks of a frenzy
Till you can hear nothing but the word
The seed of creation

She calmly places it before me.
Her labor,her fruit and art
And stands before me.An artist
Creator and Mother.
"How does it taste?"

Friday, March 07, 2008


White paper with Blue ink
Black in some places, I think.
scribbled words in a straight line
A thought that is solely mine.

formless thoughts without a shape
Written neatly on a foolscap
Away from margins, within the line
The words shape up just fine.

Seamless thoughts unknowingly altered
Grammar and English diction faltered
Sentences ended eternally with a dot.
Was this what i had thought?

They have an identity of their own,
You only read what is shown.
You'll never be able to read my mind,
Unless,you see the world these words hide behind.