NYEPI - The Day of Silence

Yesterday, March 25th, was Nyepi, The Day of Silence, celebrated in Bali. A day where you engage in silence, in pure self-contemplation, fasting, no phone, no internet, no entertainment. I read about a friend doing this the day before night. And was inspired to follow the same. No intentions, no plan. Just pure inspiration. So yesterday, I took a day off from here and from some other things. Silence. Speaking only when absolutely necessary, and only to my family. Being with myself wholly. Self contemplation. Phone switched off for the entire day from 12midnight the previous day, until almost 12 midnight yesterday. No internet. No laptop. No TV. No reading. No music. A water fast. No food from the previous night, until late last night. How was it? Absolutely effortless. And liberating. No withdrawal symptoms AT ALL for disengaging from FB or my phone or the internet. Was not tempted even once to go to any of those. And there was no tug or resistance inside that made me feel like I was exercising my willpower. I simply flowed with my simple everyday life, with absolute ease. This surprised me, as I did think I was addicted to these things. It was a revelation. And a celebration of me and the journey I have made and all that I invested in to get here. Here is what my day looked like.... I woke up and chose to connect with my body, where I was at, feeling into every part and how each was positioned. Woke up only when I felt absolutely ready. Went up to the terrace to sit and greet the morning sun, soaking it in, feeling its warmth and touch in every pore of my skin. Stayed in the stillness and silence of the morning, soaking in the vastness of the sky, the sounds of birds, the ocean in the distance, the fresh breeze, pausing with a butterfly dancing and then resting on a leaf in the distance, noticing things that I didn't notice before around me. Drank only water every time I felt a thirst pang or a hunger pang, or when I felt a tinge of dizziness. Wholesome, energy filled KANGEN water. Felt high on energy all day. Napped for about half an hour at the most. Lived on about 4-5 litres of water the whole day. And absolutely didn't feel tired at all the entire day. In fact, I achieved much much more in terms of work yesterday than I have in all these months. Spent time with my family - cuddled with my son, talked to him, shared what I was upto, tallked about the current state of affairs with the virus and its impact with Srinath, cuddled with some of the cats, talked with my mother about my fast. Did my chores around the house - cooking, feeding the cats and dogs, sweeping, washing up, dusting

• Cleaned up my work desk and set up, created my altar anew.
• Created a mandala, felt no desire to share it with the world, meditated twice in the morning and evening, sat with myself doing absolutely nothing, napped for a bit, lay down and felt into my body.
• Soaked in smells, textures and sounds even more intensely and felt them very close. Watched how sensing them triggered temptation and desire in me to eat, click pictures, record things to share.
• Watched every temptation and desire rise, and how I so wanted to act on each, or most; what they evoked in me; how a part of me wanted to just give up my fast and eat or atleast taste the food, how my eyes wandered to the snacks around, imagining the taste in my mouth, so desiring each and satiating my hunger, and how I was able to simply stay with it all and not succumb to temptation even once. It was a huge revelation.
• Then, in an explosion of creativity and flow, I sat down and created mindmaps on everything that I had been planning loosely in my head over many months. I just churned out one after another effortlessly with so much clarity! The silence and fasting sure helped immensely! And I have been in that kind of flow ever since. This simple act of coming home to myself, my home, and this cocoon of silence, balanced out everything for me, after all the intense stuckness I have been experiencing for so long now. Today, I feel like a dragonfly out of its old home...the water...and stepping out into the vast mysterious depths of an endless sky, with newly formed wings, still learning how to use them in every moment, in every breath of what feels like a new lease of life. ~ Silence. The primordial womb. Of creation. Of protection. And destruction. Where every ending transforms into a fresh new beginning. The smell, taste and feel of home forever here and always arriving.

the world feels close today

the sun is closer today
setting fire to every pore
on this ragged skin I wear.
the world shrunk into one bubble
wrapped in ancient notes of silence,
what was once home.

a tiny bird resting on the
topmost branch of a bare tree,
filling herself with song and sun
today, I see her wings flap
a timelapse video
in a timeless pause,
she feels closer today
as I touch her softly
with my eyes,
even as she darts into the still blue
without a ripple.

a white tree stands out
in the crowd,
her stark purity
drawing my heart close,
I can smell her
from the distance today
and feel her flowers
celebrating life with their
utter softness.

and then, my eyes wander
upon the form of a tiny butterfly,
her orange matching the sun
as if it decided to come down
here and play with her for a while,
my being filled with music
the joy of simply being alive!

stoic pods hanging from the
roots of trees seeking sky,
with nothing
and everything
to do,
steeped into a patient waiting
for new life.

I look around

the world does feel closer today

like a home I never had
yet always wanted to feel,
where everything rests
in peace
the resting place of a billion hearts
looking for a forever home
that always is
that always can be,
if I remember
to feel
to pause.

without a sound

you showed me how to live
when you walked away
in the quiet of a breath
unheeded,
with eyes rooting
for the intractable darkness ahead,
not turning back even once
to see what was left behind,
no tassels left
to dance with the wind,
only one cord
that binds you
to your undying song -
the one you are here for,
the same song
that leaves sing
in the thick of a forest,
even as they die,
without a sound,
without a fuss,
without one memory
of eons witnessed
over lifetimes
of green to brown.
you showed me how to live
without a sound.

A Prayer for You

you asked me
to pray for you

and so I looked
into myself
to notice
a soft, steady trickle
of clear water
like a mountain spring

growing,
changing,
listening
all the while
to the trees,
the sky,
the birdsong,
the pebbles,
the crickets,
and the clarion call
of a faraway ocean

and then flowing out,
awakened
to the silence
resting deep
within
words,
this world,
this womb,
the arrival
of a new you
and me
I cannot see,
and a voice
that can finally speak.
a prayer for you.

Into and Beyond the Light

today
i want to light
one little lamp
in the quiet
of my temple.

not for visitors
to come in
and take a peek
and marvel
at the darkness
and light,
to take them
to that same void
where I've been sucked in
many a time,

today
i want to light
one little lamp
just for myself,
not to feel safe,
or trump evil eyes,
or hope to save the world
with the light,

today
i want to light
one little lamp
just for myself.

i want to feel
the heat rise and engulf
my parched skin,
i want to feel
every wrinkle and scar
light up and burn,
i want to feel
the heat get to me
in the closeness,
i want to feel
the urge to get up
and walk away,
to do something,
anything,

and then
in that threshold
of one inflamed silence,
i want to feel the flame
flicker and grow
and die
in the stillness
of my temple

and feel the desire
to light it
and not light it
again.

today,
i want to light
one little lamp,
just for myself,
in the quiet
of my temple.

Lotus

I feel you
in the depths
of my womb,
a stirring of new life,
soft contours of mud
dissolving into water,
bubbles rising up
and popping,
before they reach
the skin
of upturned green palms
holding the immensity
of the sky
in their bosom,
ripples leaving
without returning home,
as fire sits with fire,
burning away the dross,
and somewhere
in those murky silent depths,
a lotus blooms quietly,
turned on by her solitude,
parting her folds
with the gentlest touch
of the first morning sun.

Winter

today,
I want to speak of winter...
of the empty white solitude,
the bone-chilling cold -
a harsh reminder
of what needs to thaw,
the skeletons of trees
dreaming of new forms,
and the silent breeze
feeding fresh lives.

yes, today,
I want to speak of winter;
not of the glory
of autumn or summer,
of the warmth of color and skin,
and the prettiness
of what's obvious;
no, not even of spring
and the bounce and smiles
of things exploding
into themselves
and each other;
for many have spoken
about them.

today,
I want to speak of winter.
of the unspoken,
of the unmet,
where life is on hold,
in the stillness
of a white womb,
yet changing quietly,
with the slowness
and grace
of unseen wheels
turning in the darkness,
and the innocence
of what simply is;

dressed in pure white,
is a mother waiting,
soaking in the harshness,
to feel the warmth
of skin against skin.

Listen

listen to me
not with your thoughts,
not with your words,
not with your feelers,
trying to make sense
of what you are
or who I am;
listen to me
with the silence
that swallows it all,
where you don't know
where you begin
or end;
listen to me,
lie still, in me.

In the Near Distance

why do you torment me?
why do you tease me?
stalk me, chase me,
as I run away from your duress,
that's always too much to bear?
and then,
when I find myself
rooted
in the stoned silence
between hushes,
you catch me unawares,
your waters breaking
all over me,
taking me to a reverie,
and yet sometimes,
just leaving
my orphaned toes,
yearning for that one brush
of elusive closeness,
still taunting me,
drawing me,
into your heaving bosom
in the distance;

and I remember how
the moon makes waves
all the time,
being herself
in the near distance.

Somewhere, Everywhere, Anywhere

somewhere
in a distant forest,
a leaf twirls on tip toe
to the yawning ground;
somewhere
up in a mountain,
the first raindrop smudges
the dust off a weary stone;
somewhere
in the haunting darkness,
a firefly lights up herself
to blaze a trail without a trace;
somewhere
up in a passing cloud,
a puff of air grows silently
into a thundering storm;
somewhere
which could be in the middle
of everywhere, anywhere,
silence becomes the swell
of a new wordless song
waiting to be sung.

Forest Trails

today,
I don't know why,
but I think of her -
there is a longing
to rest
among the dark pleats
of her silence
and remember home...

the forest has a way
of doing that to me -
trees look like family,
greeting me with a warmth
that I cannot feel here
in my clammy skin,
drawing me into
their haunting depths
like an old repeating dream,
or a particular piece
of a familiar song
drifting along the quiet breeze,
whispering a million stories
of heartbreak and joy,
of all the living and the dying
that they've felt, heard and seen;

the forest has a way
of filling me from afar -
for when I walk the trails
that lead me gently
to her sacred bosom,
I remember what it is like
to be home.

Come, Be a Mountain!

and Life said to me:
"Be a mountain!
come, take your place
between the heavens
and the earth,
for you are not alone;
come, stay where you are,
for in that space of being,
you will find your place
in the family of all things;
yes, you cannot move at will,
but that's why you can grow roots
into yourself and a landscape
that's ever-changing -
where rivers meander off
like prodigal sons
never to return to your folds,
where birds arrive and depart
like restless pilgrims
always in search of something,
where trees rise and fall
with every wobble
of the slowly turning wheels,
where paths and trails
cut into your very soul -
those that you'll never walk on,
where men and women come
to conquer a mystery
and flaunt their valour,
only to end up exploring and discovering
their own smaller and larger selves;
come, dear one,
be a mountain!
and rest in the stillness 
of all that is,
and all that will ever be."

Autumn

and a forest falls silent,
to listen to the sounds
of falling leaves,
and changing hues,
of sunbeams cracking open
trembling boughs, and
silver highlights drumming
upon dancing shadows;
where the air is rife
with a tingling freshness,
lingering memories
and unborn dreams,
dying into the stillness
of this one moment,
where a new song
will be birthed
from this sacred womb,
and carried into the silence
of a long-hushed tomb.

The Book of Your Life

there is a joy
when I pick up
the book of your life
and open it
to read a page
in silent reverie,
where words
become stories,
where spaces
become pauses,
where memories
become new arrivals,
crying out to be held
against the softness
of my palms,
where lines
become the web
of our one entangled,
sacred existence.

Skin to Skin, Heart to Heart

and when you speak,
I feel the world
come alive
under your skin,
throbbing
with the waves
that rise and fall
with my skin,
as I drop into
the silence
of uncharted depths,
drawing me through
their smudged creases,
now spiralling,
free falling,
into the abyss
of a love
that can be felt
only skin to skin,
heart to heart.

There is Something in the Silence

there is something
in the silence
in the kitchen,
while I stand there
chopping, stirring,
pouring, swishing,
tasting, smelling,
reaching for, or
putting away,
what's needed or not;

I hear the dry rattle
of paper thin wings,
that belong to
a golden dragonfly;
she was circling the light,
as if she knew
when to close in
or move out and across
invisible walls of light -
now resting, now dancing,
now changing course,
encircling herself
in that strange silence;

there is something
in the silence
in the kitchen.

a leaf stirs awake
as I strain my ears to hear
stillness in silence

One Voice

sometimes I feel
I'm standing alone
along the edge
of a still river,
calling out to you
across the void,
where one voice
becomes
an illusory two,
bouncing off
the jagged edges
of an expressionless cliff,
drowning the longing
to meet another voice,
in the silence
between me and you.

Everything is Quiet Here

everything is quiet here,
the sun's gone somewhere
for a sleepover,
clouds linger for one last peek,
window-shopping at a world
too busy to be sold into,
the waters are restful,
singing their own lullaby
into the growing night,
the birds are back in their perches
communing over the mundanity
of yet another fulfilling day;

everything is quiet here,
the doorbell's fallen silent
straining its ears to listen
to the breath of all things
animate and inanimate,
the phone lies in a corner,
undisturbed by the desire
to belong somewhere
falling back into the emptiness,
tiny ants scurry along
the safe edges of a wall,
risking their busyness
to feel one another;

everything is quiet here,
where happening melts
into being,
where I am something
that simply lays still
with the hushed air,
not wanting to be anything more;
perhaps that's how we feel
when we die,
when we feel we're a part
of everything's that's here,
in the quiet greatness,
simplicity and totality
of this one precious moment.

The Temple

and people come
and they leave,
stepping inside
this world
within worlds;
bringing flowers,
many offerings,
soulful songs,
gratitude,
and prayers;
and while I watch
from the fringe,
hearts laid to rest
upon the stone,
they leave behind
and take with them
what they've been looking for -
the pulsing silence
that never left their folds.