Just another day

As quietly the RADIANCE OF moon PEEPED FROM THE DARK CLOUDS , it was an introspective moment….

The day was full of mundane activities, when chaotic rumbles of noisy surroundings had deafened my ears and thoughts were in a  turmoil.

We yearn for silence: each beat of  heart  counts and tries to camouflage  this desire by masks pulled over their faces by societal pressure or hypocritical nomenclature.

Falsity, ego, masks of indifference, inhumaneness, snobbish attitudes, superiority complex, haughtiness…where does all this lead to ? Why the need to mask ourselves every moment, that one tends to forget the real self?

The innocence and simplicity of childhood , the purity of thoughts and true expressions of feelings are all lost somewhere in the storm of  desert where people are running after  mirage and forgetting the path to the oasis of life.

The resting soul in repose 
Which often forget to connect
Then begins the process of initiation
Where we find happiness inside
And seek the divine grace
Years or times unlimited it takes
yet an ephemeral  moment can ignite and build the path 
to attain consciousness

Photo : Soumya Vilekar

Whether by cuddling in a corner of home or strolling beside an unknown path which randomly travels to the outskirts of a city, the yearning  heart finds solace in  quietness of  lingering music of breeze or in the rustling of trees or in the moving clouds ,even in dancing waves of a sea. The majestic mountains or even the meadows which run along the hills of freshly emerged greenery  embrace us with their quietness.

In conversation in SAFARNAMA

Hi friends,

Sharing something different than the usual writing, a piece of conversation from the long journey of life.

"Let us dare

 to differ

see the intricacies

love the unique and ponder

watch out differences

glare  the common

gaze at the newer

admire the adventurer

idolize the seeker


and learn

let us dare to differ

allow ourselves to think,

to know, to understand

to absorb, to admonish

to eradicate our fears

let us learn to invent

to discover

 to accept the unknown"

- Soumya Vilekar

The Roadway

would it..
will it not?
the roadway to the final destination
would carry the fragrance of
soil... dried leaves and the sweat along?
will it spread the nostalgia of sojourn
while the swaying branch bends to
 brush the tresses
Will the dust speak of the crimson sunset
floating in the air
or of the wading birds bidding adieu
to lakes and pollen of distant flowers
will the anchor of sail...sing tale
of rough weathers
or the vessel explain the trembles of
turbulent waters
would the altar of purpose...
reverberate nuances of the voyage
Breathe then... inhale the redolence ;
...like a feather this
will vanish forever...lost,
 in the treading soil
of the travel...

@ Soumya


herein i fortify the roots of nature
ones which need love and affection
in storms whence they stand stronger
deeper to travel more inside the gravel....

roots of life , 
roots of human
 cause of
ignorance or wisdom

anchor thyself,
 in soil 
introspect inside 
what lies on the layer is superficial
above the ground...the world is so different
the real roots exist and appear....


Finish the task

Tis tough to ev'r know the depth
the ocean where compassion dwells
like sapphire it sparkles in drops
from corner or blade of grass
The roar inside is silenced
by pricks of thorns
or hidden rose branch
...Who knoweth what
lies in conscience...
walkin the way is our aim;

amidst surreal
jingles , shimmers
rule the game
solace unheeded 
purpose stalk
denotation distinct
free the soul and
finish the task...



whilst the storm had intentions 
that were futile
the petals reopened 
blossomed in white
the winds had blown shelters of words
trying to ransack whole world...
in morning light 
in night mystic
the lone flower bloomed 
on the dignified tree
crumpled at times, crushed 
inside it pined...
resilience added to the power of victory
truth and immaculateness paved the way to  serenity



Nay ! the world doesn't stop 
ov'r any shocking blast that silences
the chirping of children or rustle of life
neither if an old soul makes a noose 
to end the strife, or forcibly directed on
mindgames or lies
nor if millions have lost the zeal
to keep their jobs live
or striving for a square meal 
once a day in time

Nay! nothing shall move hearts
nothing shall deride
The heart nowadays forgets it's soul
whether we are robots or truly alive
In gravels of dust, in handful of soil
we shall unite
through ashes , or remnants of graves
yet forget to keep the zeal of  our purpose qui vive.

Tis a long journey 
of different milestones
few get tired in miles
a noted count moves ahead
for furlongs until
the peak is scaled with newer heights...



Where from you arrive
O! wind
why is the hurry to
wash and rinse
every stride...

didn't you know
the crown of thoughts
perseverance , the diamond of efforts
adorning life

yet you rush,
run scot free
destroying peaks of glory
which tiny fingers built in sand
whilst you crush dreams
destroying minds...

Halt! breathe
for a moment
O ! wind
you needn't be a turbulence
a tornado
to be cherished for lifetime
Be the westerly wind
which rejuvenates
reinstates life...

- Soumya

The Inner Voice

Like the faraway claret coloured sunset 
 transmuting into a sapphire's blueness 
  heart flutters in arbitrariness 
  rushing ache in veins watching flapping silhouettes !

did we ever notice
 colours of sky
emerald leaves
twinkled eyes
suppressed smiles
blushing lips
dance of butterflies
or carpet of pearls
 on grasser green ?
Else fathomed ever
 the soothing touch  
 immersed in real essence
A potion of pain 
 in magical fingers
in an embrace
in a cuddle;
in a pat,
as cure of  miseries
respite to griefs
absolution to holdbacks
freedom to recover,
liberty to express,
authority to grow;
 yet we forget
diminish our charm
losing self
in captivity of limitations
in confinement of materialistic affinities
in detention of superficiality
 in shallowness
of living!
When shall then clock strike
to wake us from
the delusion 
in cognizance of truth
hearing inner voice?