Neither a wise sage
nor a naive girl
why should I then
be looking at your face
looking at your hand
for that wise touch
and gentle love?
Told you I am difficult
difficult is to love.
To ones it comes easy
Love doesn’t come
All they are left with
is a wait as they long
for the touch of a wise sage
or kiss of a naive girl.
A person without ego is a drop of water in a bucketfull of it. The drop, its sense of ego arises from separation, ceases with negation of that. In that negation lies a life lived.
The cry of the child as it leaves the womb-house – the first and perhaps the only home it will have ever – is the beginning of separation. The wombhouse – garbhgrih – of temple beckons him for reunion, for the return to the eternal. The shalabhanjikaa, the amorous mithunas remind him/her of the eternal motive to reunite with another that is him/her. A child is born, an ego generated, another separation follows. And follows another cry for reunion, a return to the womb that is earth, and other elements. Ego generated, ego vanished, and the call remembered: a life lived.
Zindagi Khwab Hai 