Letters to my Love… (1)

It is a midget like expression in comparison to what I feel for you, and, what you feel for me! Mere ‘I love you’ is not enough. I wish language had such a thing as expression in it, then I would have told you what you mean to me…

You are not a flower, whose life is a day or two; nor are you a moth, who dies for the love of light! You are light itself- one who can consume a million moths and still dazzle the Sam- patiently and peacefully.

You are not the universe, for universe is too tiny, you are not anything, nothing in particular but everything that one can be, and that which one cannot be. You are not ordinary, nor is my love for you. My love is not a mere spark, or a bonfire lit in controlled circumstances; my love is a fire that can consume forests , villages and cities alike, and still be unsatisfied. You are that first drop of rain which lands on this rage, and instantaneously calms it down.

For how many times do I want to tell you ‘I love you’; but, words are dwarf and you are a giant. From where should I bring such words as may define- no, definition is not all inclusive- from where should I bring such words as may express what you mean to me. I wish, I could become like you and each and every thread of my being expressed ‘you’.

….Sahar Raman Deep

Author of ‘The UnSaid: Listen to the Silence “

She Dreams of Being Big!

As she lay there, on torn sacks, she dreamt of going to school, of being rich so that she is able to buy a lot of food for her and her siblings. And clothes of course!

It was not that she could not go to school. The school was free. But food was not. So mother took her to work with her. When she asked her mother why she did not send her to school, the mother told she was too young to go to school. “Don’t you remember what the teacher said the other day?” Mom would ask at the end of argument every time.

Yes, Roshni remembered that day. She had thrown a tantrum. She had stopped eating. Her only condition was that she may be enrolled in a school. So, the helpless mother took her to the local primary school one day, but she was two days younger than the right age.

“ But that was two Diwalis ago.” She argued.

…. to be continued.

…Sahar Raman Deep

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A Letter to My Love

Some people are more important than stardom or money; so are you. You are not only a person, but my relationship with myself. You are a song that my soul sings. You are the light in which my being seeks to understand Love. You are a you who has made love myself.

A thought: what if you are not real? You may not be real, but the love between us, at this moment in space and time, is more than real than any real can be. It is extraordinary! A moment lived in this living moment is more true than any number of years, centuries or lives lived in a common ‘love’ of give and take, of trust and doubt, of me and you.

Among us, there is no me and you. Among us, it’s a world of stars. Among us, there is unlimited expansion not to be limited by any binaries. Among us, there is only ‘us’; and ‘us’ is of oneness, of non duality, away from the world divided into dimensions.

Sahar Raman Deep.

5/21/17

Generations!

Good were the days
When grandma cooked
And all the children
Sat around her-….

Good were the days
When grandma cooked
And all the children
Sat around her-
Crossed legged, and silent.
The roti took time to bake,
And, we fought for it!
So granny set the turns,
And we would eat
Slowly from our bowls
With small bites of bread
So as not to be done
Before the next chapati came!
Finish we eating,
And off we went
To swim in poodles!

Good were the days
When mom cooked
And we sat on table
With father on the big chair
And ate rice,
And home cooked noodles-
Laughing at small jokes,
And went to bed
With affectionate kisses;
Read a book
And dreamt of morning!

Now my children,
With their heads buried in phones
Wait for food
Ordered online
To fill their bellies!

I sit alone
With my husband
Sipping some soup,
Silent and gloomy.
And I wonder,
When my daughter shall cook….

…… Sahar Raman Deep
1/14/17

Rain and Storm

Not in rain
Is there a purpose
Of wind to
Water the garden

The little droplets
Of Nature’s beautiful sprinkler
Mean to grow
Everything liveful.

But,
Only stones can stand
The blow of the blow
And sometimes even
Mountains fly in cyclone.

Everything pleasant
Even if the loving human
Or God’s religion
Or even the soft breeze,
When gets violent,
Trees uproot,
Stones break,
And,
Mountains sand!

…. Sahar Raman Deep
01/06/17

In Rawness of Emotions…

In rawness of emotions
In rawness of thought
In rawness of heart
When no seed is bown
I think of humanity
How it has grown!… Read More

In rawness of emotions
In rawness of thought
In rawness of heart
When no seed is sown
I think of humanity
How it has grown!

Humanity meant
Law of jungle in forest
And the only rule
Was to survive
Then came the tribes
And the societies
Where survival was safe
And the need was to thrive.
Being loyal to the group
And to the leader
Was the mandate
Even if it meant
Death to the tenant.

Some saints and sages
Have been talking since ages
Of the particular
And the universal
And saying
Both are one
And the key to this realization
Is freedom, and alas!
Freedom is none!

They say we are free.
Though unchained and unbound
We are bound by
None other than we.
This is the story
Of us humans
Separated from the nature
Who bore us
In her womb
And many others
Whom we have forgotten.

We wait for a the doom!

…. Sahar Raman Deep.
12/14/16

Pilgrimage

There is no pilgrimage holier than of self to Self. (Read more…)

On the way home
Back to my heart
Blisters are on feet
And mouth is desert

Back to my roots
After wandering in skies
Having lost all mine
I walk like a monk

Great pilgrimage is this
In the meadows
In the rain
To the alter of me
Standing still-

Since ages!

… Sahar Raman Deep.
11/14/16

The Depression

This wholeness and emptiness, alternating time and again, this feeling of having it all and the nothingness, this tendency…. Read more.

This wholeness and emptiness, alternating time and again, this feeling of having it all and the nothingness, this tendency to have found it all and then that terrible phase of having it all lost! A person swings from what she is to what she is not, often struggling to find a true identity. Here, in no way, I am talking of identity in relation to the Ultimate, but in a way relative to human existence, an identity we all have- I like this and I do not like this. We all know atleast this about ourselves! I do not. Any of the people struggling with my condition do not! And, it is called bipolar disorder.

At one time, I am a writer, an avid reader, an innovator. At another, I am a piece of shit! Sounds funny, right? It’s not.

Have you ever have had that feeling when you have failed and lost all confidence in you and what is yours? When you look into the mirror and you hate the person you are looking at? Find him ugly? Have you ever felt the world has gone against you, and you are hiding in a little hole, trying to protect yourself? Have you ever felt that you are terribly isolated and long for that human voice which may touch your heart and give you some comfort, all the while when your loved ones are around you?

This is it! This is it! The depression! The bipolar depression!

Abortion

Is abortion a woman’s right over her body or a criminal act? What do you feel?

From nowhere
His gaze can observe
As she
In her uncomfortable nest
Watches over her little one

Like the moon
Like the stars
He can be seen
But not reached

His son
Who looks exactly like him
Seems to be asking
Where is my father?
And she has
No answer
What should she tell him?
That his coming to life
Was an accident
Which his father
So despised
And hated her
For carrying him?

Oh boy!
She loved him much
And could have done
Anything for him
And he was right
Nor he
Or she
Was ready, for the big change

How much
She suffered!
Without a family
Without her love.
And that tumor!
She could have died!

He had the freedom
So he left
She did not have
So she is struck
For life
In that brief moment of
Love long lost!

…. Sahar Raman Deep
10/27/16

Union in Love

Spiritual union of Love is an experience of a lifetime!

O Love!

I don’t want to

Cling to You…

I just want to

Hold the experience

Of oneness and expansion

Close to my heart

Ever and forever.

…. Sahar Raman Deep