The rebel lives on

Like a phoenix, 

the rebel rises again and again,

refusing to listen to the voice of defeatism, 

beating its tired but strong wings, 

for that familiar magnificient flight 

in stormy skies fraught with challenge.

The rebel lives on.

- Srividya Srinivasan 

Death of a rebel

My mind oscillates no more.
The imaginary pendulum has stopped its swinging....

I did not go the well travelled roads that the world
assured me were the safest 
and braved it through the storm
armed with nothing but my intuition and guts to guide me.

The well travelled roads had nothing to offer
but safety and mediocrity.
But, if I had gone its ways I may have even been happy.
And so would the world have been.
That, it had stilled yet another rebel.

I took the unknown ways...
I have only myself to blame
and faced the shame.
New and untried adventures assailed me,
I tried wrestling with my wits,
and my courage was tested,
as at each stage the world watched
with bated breath,
to rejoice at my failures.
I never came out of it all,
glorious in my victory ,
masterful and strong .
And I never won the victory 
For the world to mourn my success.

The choice is no longer left to me now.
And the risk was just not worth it after all.

- Srividya Srinivasan Sept 2008 

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THE ETERNAL QUESTION


My mind oscillates.
The imaginary pendulum swings....

Should I go the well travelled roads that the world
assures me are the safest ?
or
Should I brave it through the storm armed with nothing but
my intuition and guts to guide me ?

The well travelled roads have nothing to offer
but safety and mediocrity.
It shall bring me no fame or name.
But if I go its ways I may not be happy.
Neither will the world be.
But it shall rejoice that it has stilled yet another rebel.

But if I take the unknown ways...
I shall have only myself to blame
and face the risk of shame.
New and untried adventures shall assail me,
I shall wrestle with my wits,
and my courage will be tested,
as at each stage the world would watch
with bated breath,
to rejoice at my failures.
I may come out of it all,
glorious in my victory ,
masterful and strong .
And I may be supremely happy
as the world mourns my success.

But the choice is left to me.
My mind oscillates.
Should I risk it ?

- Srividya Srinivasan May 1994

Welcoming the baby

He had made up his mind. His knotted hands trembled as he clutched the precious seeds in the palm of his sweaty hands. He had heard his son and daughter-in-law whispering in the dark, a few days back. ‘Where do we put the baby?’ The utter helplessness in their voices had put the idea into his head. At first, he had wished it away. Unbidden it came, again and again. Pushing its way to the surface of his consciousness; until he was forced to acknowledge it for what it was – a master solution.

As his feet trudged over the cracked earth, the heat waves hit his face and made his weak eyes water and blur. He walked on resolutely. The faces on the way were grim. Not a single drop had fallen from the skies for days. For months. He passed by a crowded house. The wailing had just started. He forced his mind not to think. To imagine how it be. Soon. Now they would lower the body. The wailing would start. The beating of the chest. The thumping of the drums. The rhythmic death dance. A few flowers purchased on credit and a few wild flowers thrown in for free. Then, the government would step in. An official would come - usually a thin reedy man with a trembly voice awkward in his responsibility. He would give a cheque after a short speech, which would be drowned in the wailing. Then the family would feast. Eat after maybe days. There would be a few photographs taken. Sometimes, the local politician would join in, if he felt it would add to his mileage.

His face or behaviour gave no clue of what was running in his mind. He wiped his dry dusty feet on the dry dusty mat and went in. The poor girl was almost done. Well into her pregnancy. His eyes shifted vaguely trying to avoid looking at her helpless face. She served him the meagre portion of the gruel.

In the night, he woke up to the dry heat and moans of labour. His daughter-in-law was trying her best not to disturb him by stifling the cries of pain. He knew the time was right. He put the tiny pellet into his mouth and then lay down again. The last he knew was the wail of the baby as it came into the world.

At dawn, they found him dead. The precious seeds for the next season clutched tightly in his hands. The house that could only hold three people had a place for the baby now. The wailing started. Both, from the new born baby and for the dead.

The rains came, as they started the death dance.

The lone eagle flies

The lone eagle flies

high above. 

reveling in the height,

the sheer joy of the view.

Seeing the world far below.

Proud of its aloneness.

And ruggedness.

The feathery white clouds

stealthily enroached 

and enveloped it

in its white softness.

Wonder what became 

of the eagle ?

A strange thought!

Why is it when we can understand that the image in the mirror is an illusion, we always think we are real in some way? What block in the mind prevents us from seeing the temporary and illusionary nature of our own self ?

Afternoon Ramblings [ Srividya Srinivasan]

The Cosmic Cycle

In the Cosmic Cycle,
How would I ever know
if the current is a result
of the past
or it is the cause for
an effect in the future ?
How do I use
my free will unless
I know this ?

- Ramblings -
Srividya Srinivasan

The preciousness of it all

I am the rare flower,
that you have to treasure, nurture and protect.
I am the precious gem,
that you have to discover, polish, flaunt and secure,
I am the uncommon,
fast becoming extinct unto ordinariness.

If you are not the connoisseur,
and failed to see my rareness,
for all you can see is the common,

Is that my fault or yours?

When you were thinking of sex

When you were thinking of sex
I was thinking of advaita, the cosmic fusion.
When you were thinking of love
I was thinking of soul mates.
When you were thinking of you and me
I was thinking of us.
When you thought that 'I' am begging,
'I' had already surrendered my ego to love
When you thought 'I' am Vulnerable
'I' was the strong one with all of me given to Love.
You are the one who is running,
You are one looking for a escape route,
You are the one afraid to look into yourself and let go.

You come from a world where two separate souls meet, interact and
move on carrying what you brought in.

For me, there is no 'I'. My love is a seamless merging.
That is why I cannot let go. You are in me.
I have fused myself into togetherness with nothing separate.

Where can you go ?

Now, do you comprehend the depth of my pain?
It is the pain of the womb,
As the child is forcibly separated from the mother,
It is a mental tearing off,
limb by limb,
trying to identify
what is yours and
what is mine.

- Srividya Srinivasan

Responding to the Cosmic

Do not take credit or feel pride for anything
you have done or achieved.
Your intelligence was given.
Your physical looks were given.
Your fit body with no deformities was given.
Do not measure my world and yours by
the number of children we had;
the number of cars we owned;
the amount of money we have in the bank;
or the investments we have done.
In the passage of life these mean nothing.

Do not weigh your personality
with psuedo words, pride and position,
or the arrogance that you know it all.
Against the simplest test of intelligence,
you would fail miserably.
They were all given.
We have earned nothing, we own nothing.
Not our body, not our minds, not our intelligence,
not our wealth, not our health, not our children,
nor our parents.

Your opportunities were carved out for you by
the world and the cosmos.
If at all you have a right to take any credit,
it is only that you recognized your potential,
that you utilised your faculties,
and
that you seized and responded to the divine cosmic,
and went with the larger flow for your own redemption.

- Srividya Srinivasan

Is Adwaitha really possible ?

Is Adwaitha really possible ? Truly ? For even that tiniest fraction of time if it does, would not it be the most magnificient phenomena as all dualities merge seamlessly right from the largest to the tinest i.e the proton and the electron to the entire cosmos that is held in balance due to duality losing itself ? Pralaya.What a thought !!

Srividya Srinivasan
[ Midnight Ramblings]

The resultant is everything or nothing!!

When the individual consiousness merges with the supreme consciousness,
when dwaitha merges into adwaitha,
Would the resultant be nothing ?
or everything ?
is it nothingness cos no properties exist or everythingness as all properties are merged ?

Srividya Srinivasan
[ Midnight Ramblings]

Bliss

Anandha lies suspended between the clutter of the past
and the nebulousness of the future.
A fragile pulsing moment of pure life.
I am in bliss.

- Srividya Srinivasan