borrowed from a fellow blogger (credited to the poet Jagadish)

Sach hum nahin, sach tum nahin, Sach hai mahaj sangarsh hi!

Sangharsh se hat kar jiye to kya jiye hum ya ki tum,

Jo nat hua wo mrit hua jyon vrind se jhar kar kusum,

Jo lakshya bhool ruka nahin,

Jo haar dekh jhukha nahin,

Jisne pranaya paatheya maana hai jeet usi ki hui,

Sach hum nahin, sach tum nahin, Sach hai mahaj sangarsh hi!

Aisa karo ke praanon me na kahin jadta rahen,

Jo hai jaha chupchaap apne aap se ladta rahen,

Jo bhi paristhithiyan milein,

kaante chube kaliya khilein,

Haaren na insaan kabhi, hai sandesh jeevan ka yahin,

Sach hum nahin, sach tum nahin, Sach hai mahaj sangarsh hi!

Humne racha aao humhi abb tod de iss pyaar ko,

Ye kya milan, milana vahi jo mod de majhdaar ko,

Jo saath phoolon ke chale,

Jo dhaal paate hi dhale,

Yeh jindgi kya, jo jindgi sirf paani si bahi,

Sach hum nahin, sach tum nahin, Sach hai mahaj sangarsh hi!

Sansaar saara aadmi ki chaal dekh hua chakit,

Par jhaankkar dekhon drigon me sabhi hai pyaase thakit,

Jab tak bandhi hai chetna,

Jab tak hriday dukh se ghana,

Tab tak na maanoonga kabhi iss raah ko hi mai sahi,

Sach hum nahin, sach tum nahin, Sach hai mahaj sangarsh hi!

Apne hridya ka satya humne aap humko khojna,

Apne nayan ka neer humne aap humko poochhna,

Aakaash sukh dega nahin,

Dharti paseeji hai kahin?

Jis se hriday ko bal milein, Hai dhyay apna to wahi,

Sach hum nahin, sach tum nahin, Sach hai mahaj sangarsh hi!!

the night is my own

it gives back what the day has taken from me

there's a bit of craziness lurking in all of us...and its cyclic...you know, comes and goes. we go from madness to madness, not quite knowing when we are in it...not quite knowing when we are not

there is a part of me that is not me. that has been with me since i was born...but which has been, long before me. that which likes some of what i like and is wary of some of what i'm wary of. that adds a hundred exquisite layers of pleasure...innumerably subtle shades of meaning, empathy...to things i am distantly aware of and yet brought closer to instantly. that which makes me a mote of dust on this land...as i was before...as i will be in my time

and all else will be forever foreign

i'm a person of hurried prayers...muttered somethings...particularly in moments of dire needs. my sojourns to temples are few by far but i've felt awe and reverence...now the question is, is that because of conditioning or does it have to do with the shared experiences one grows up with?
here's an epiphany i had...that the faith, the reverence one feels in such an environ...maybe thats not got so much to do with the godly idols in front of you, as it has with the millions of prayers, long and short, from around you, from before you, long before you. Imagine, if prayer was a physical quantity and you could map concentrations, what would such concentrations be in a long worshipped temple, church or mosque?! maybe its the senses you know, the devotees you see, the incense and soot you smell, the whispered paens you hear but i just somehow feel that if i could, if i were able to, block out all of this, i would still feel no...sense the colossal weight of faith gathered over the ages. it has been palpable to me when i have touched pews in the notre dame or the door sill at puri...a resonation of faith, of shared reverence...a bounding of feeling, a sense of i am here...to atone...to whisper my fears...and my hope to be free of them...to be at peace

and the idols and symbols, just punctuation marks so that i step in tune in the grammar of faith with my fellow men (which of course then alters the need state to one of identity as most after-the-fact defining attempts do...and which is yet another story)