Wild Flowers

Your favourite flowers I planted,
From the lotus to blue lily; disenchanted.
A few bloomed – bright and fragrant,
But they all withered on your idol silent.

I know the flowers in nature they bloom,
Smell like an open bottle of perfume.
Worldly flowers those but later fade and drop down,
Like the mortal life we seem to own!

But now wild flowers in my garden,
Raise their heads all of a sudden,
Where they came from
Tell me Hey Lord of this asylum?

Where can I find
Eight blossoms of an unknown kind?
Its colour I have seen never,
Nor the odour smelt prior.

Those strange flowers of your creation never wither
When I gather them in my heart like peacock feather
From then on, in tranquil blue waters I float,
With my senses under control like a hermit’s boat.

My tolerant eyes now drink unceasing compassion
My hands fold in truthful confession.
My mind drifts in divine meditation,
When the soul melts in peaceful salvation!


This poem talks about the eight flowers to be offered to God described in Bhagavatham. They are (1) Ahimsa (Non-violence), (2) Indhriya Nigraha (Control of senses), (3) Sarvabhootha Dhaya (Compassion towards all beings), (4) Sathyam (Truth), (5) Dhyaanam (Meditation), (6) Shanti (Peace), (7) Vinaya (Humility), (8) Bhakthi (Devotion) and we thought the flowers to be offered were the ones from your earthly garden.

The Quest for Truth

– From the archives –

I had written this article as a confused teenager approximately 7 years back. There are a few edits here and there. But more or less the article remains the same.


Life is a journey. It is a journey to the rich heritage of the thoughts that is the inherence of the soul. It is the quest for the truth. It is something that has a value, a high esteem and has its own sustenance in the world. Mine is also such a trek through the winding roads of life to the cradle of truth. Like exiguous rain is the truth in the midst of vast Sargasso of imposture. Even though scarce, its ember shines in the whole of the universe. The beat of life lies in its existence. The unwashed of today who are immune to the divinity of truth are themselves being immure unknowingly.

One who waits for his tryst with destiny to find the hidden meaning is often pulled into the whirlwind of knowledge. The ocean of wisdom that one has to cross to understand the untold often is tiring. In a similar expedition a few years back I ran into a very successful Scientist. So, there I got this old wise man to spell out his beliefs and views on life. He told me, “According to me it is truth that created the universe and what makes it tick. In every atom it is there. According to the Big Bang theory, universe was formed due to the explosion of a super dense material and is said to be expanding continuously. I believe truth itself got created due to the concentration of evilness in the whole world. The explosion of these thoughts caused truth to manifest in this world every second expanding. I consider “Satya” to be a  pure while light ray traversing the universe and vanquishing the darkness in the depths of this universe.” “What is Black Hole then ?”, the confused explorer in me quizzed him. With a smile the scientist answered, “I was like you a few years back, constantly searching for answers to the basic questions of life, trying to link science with God. I was in search of the one single truth that buds the world when black holes caught my attention. It failed to fit into my theory of truth. Later, I came to realize that the Black holes are those balancing acts played by truth. If forces of nature or the fight between one matter with another, one hue with another goes to proportions that can’t be controlled then it is time to end those dangerous force by pulling them into a black hole. Imagine black hole as a self-destruct switch built into every light carrying source. It is obviously for the good of the universe. With every work of mine I try to be closer to the light source that I seek.” I thanked the devotee of science for sharing his beliefs and ideas with me. I walked further ahead.

Hospitals, temples, cemetery all passed by before I met a Saint who was told to be a great scholar and preacher of Hindu religion. He happened to be giving a lecture on Moksha. I asked him about his belief in truth and Nirvana. “Son, Universe came into being a long time back. We, a small group people inhabit the world — our green planet as living beings with soul. At first we were loyal to God. We could then be called the sons of God. But as time passed we stepped into a path of darkness and ignorance. The devil in our mind arouse. We forgot the path to righteousness. We became so valorous as to run down the very God who gave us a life in here, on earth. We threw away our cloaks of purity and wore darker shades. To me all this is occurring because of one main reason. We have been sent to this world with an individual aim. By achieving and fulfilling one’s destiny we will enter the world of enduring happiness or Nirvana. A state of contentment where we can then live forever. But the path to achieving this is not so easy. It is strenuous and tiring. But one is hardwired to search for shorter and easier paths to success. This induces evilness in his character. Another reason for this behavior is that our mind as a whole is divided into two halves — one having the disposition of God and the other that of the devil. When a thought about our course to heaven stimulates our brain, the impulses cause both these halves to act. The quick but shot lived devilish ideas vanquishes the slow but steady true actions. This momentary joy ends in sorrow and not in enduring zest. Thus we lose track of truth and righteousness, and forget Nirvana.”

The journey back home was tough. Relentless sun beat down on the me. For want of food and water, I had to plead to the villagers in a forbidden land across the mountain. The only one who offered to help me was the Prostitute. I quenched my thirst from the earthen pot outside her house. Thanking her I braved to ask, “Why do you do this? What does truth mean for you?”. “I never wanted to end up in this profession. But then it is not always with you the decision as to where your feet would take you once you start walking,” she responded with veiled tears down her cheeks. A bit hesitantly I asked her, “Do you believe in truth, God and divinity ?” She thought for sometime, washed her face and hands, then narrated her life, “I have he courage to admit that I am doing something that this society would never accept. My birth brought joy to my family, and my life gifted them shame. The day I was seven years old I fell into the grips of sin. There was no return. Today, I feel that I am surrounded by an epiphyte feeding on my blood. For me truth is all but harsh, God for me is nothing but a picture, and divinity a dream less dreamt. But then one day I want to come out of all this darkness and seek the light at the end of the tunnel. Till then I am content with the reality of life and the truth about my destiny.”

I realized that the universe began with me and ended with me. Truth may not be uncontaminated but it is finding contentment in the impurity of life that takes you to divinity than chasing unknown gods. God may or may not exist but isn’t it the faith that really matters? Truth is not to be sought outside but it has to be searched inside oneself. If God or a faith drives you, then it lives inside you. Through that power source you will surely get to where you seek, that is where the quest for truth begins and ends.

He who lights my heart is truth,
He who guides my mind is truth,
He who drives my thoughts is truth,
And truth takes me to heaven !


Very Short Stories Part 1

From Land of Stories and Story-Tellers

Chennai is blessed for it has a beach, a long shoreline. It is here the rich and the poor walk the same wet soil, the water that washes the dirty feet laps and cleanses the rich legs too. They are one and same there by the side of the sea, for at least a few moments, breathing one another’s exhaled air…A kid came running and hugged me from behind, her grip tight around my legs. I turned around and her eyes narrowed failing to recognize me. Her grip loosened, eyes swelled, and words stammered. She is lost. She took me for someone else and now her eyes frantically searches for the faces she knew. I lifted her on my head so that she could see the crowd and search her loved ones. She found her father. A man richer than the earth. He thanked. Her brother hugged. Her mother nowhere to be seen. But she laughed again. Her laughs brought smile on my face. I walked back with a corn in my hand, the only gift I accepted, for my mother sold corn that I never knew the taste of…!

The Hindu Priest – Devan

I remembered that young temple priest. His head shaved, his forehead and body smeared with sandalwood paste , bathed in sweat coming out from the temple kitchen. His skin hugged his body like a tight brown cloth on a skeletal frame. A torn, yellow towel covered his lower half, hardly reaching his knees. His hands held the garlands for the his deity. White, Red, Yellow and green were the colors on a cotton thread, woven into a simple garland for the simpler deity from the simplest human. He smiled at me. His face glowed like the god behind him. Like the king of a hundred thousand lands. Standing there I saw the real god, outside the Sanctum Sanctorum – Devan, the priest.

The Half Open Window

She was coming back. I don’t know where from. Closing the gate, she turned around, short hair, shorter sleeves on her white Kurta, Sharp nose and sharper limbs, a compound wall between us…Our eyes met… Electric effect.. Thousands of tamil movies played… I felt my heart melt as she walked away. But nothing happened.. A cold stare remained…

The power was out. I felt my way through the messy roads to reach the gate. A nineties Yezdi roared, it’s silencer louder than normal for there was no sound. I could hear crickets sing and dog’s barking a mile away. My neighbour’s kid on that. The angry young man he was. unkept hair, long and in all directions. Gave me a threatening glance.

A moment later, I came out.  This time the sharp eyes and sharper angled body of that girl awaited me. She sat on the rear seat – the typical Indian way. Her eyes shone in the moon light. It smiled. It said, “SShhh….” Her hands pressed the young man’s shoulder. He got it. The bike roared and they were away.

Summer Rain

It rained here in Bangalore. Wind plays around with the blocking structures finding its way through my half-opened windows. It’s cool. It has that peculiar smell, of spring flowers and dried leaves, now all wet, and decorating the black roads, turned into a slippery mash, of neem and of Eucalyptus. Lightning streaked the distant horizons like a dream half- lived. They brought memories – Of Pilani and the summer rains…


I am torn between many a souls, split between many a realities, between people who cared. A handful of promises made waiting to be kept – I am that man in between, not a boy anymore !!!


It felt like a dream. I wanted to wake up. Realized there was no waking up. I was living it. Every second, every breath of it. Everything seemed unrealistically real. It was dark. There was light. I was walking towards it. Images blurred. I was not able to understand. Every scene played like a 35mm clip, parts of the dilapidated reels eaten away by time perhaps. Were they flashbacks, my present or the future seen from a future to come thereafter? No Idea. Vague. Mysterious. I was walking a thin line. It was not a question of life and death. It was about sanity and madness !


He asked,”Can you sing for me?” “No, you better not hear me sing !”, she replied, “But I can dance for you”, she volunteered. “I can’t”, he shook his head. But still they danced to soft music hitting the table and chairs, singing till the dawn peeped into their room, the warmth of the morning filled their eyes and the room. (The couple were blind !)

Technology – Changing A Kid’s Life

Today, I saw my cousin’s five-year old kid using an iPad with ease. Not just looking at it, but browsing menus, interacting, playing keyboard, games and what not. Then he came to the Dell laptop that I was using, kept his finger on the screen and tried to do the same thing expecting my laptop to respond only to be disappointed. Disinterested he was at the clumsy keyboard, left quickly to pick up the iPhone to play “angry birds’. Now that is Technology Revolution !!! I had used a black slate, wet cloth and a chalk to study, look at today’s kids !

~ Trilok ~