Where 'I' doesn't Arise

Where 'I' doesn't Arise

Such a Glorious state,

Where I want only You.

For Your sake,

Or was it for Mine?

Who knows?

Where concepts of you and Mine diffuse.

When the clarity of Unity glares,

With all it's brilliance,

Who can close their eyes?

Who inspired me to love You?

Who cares?

So meek are the concepts of 'You'.

The Wise need not dwell in them.

They are reserved for the Ignorant.

Can I pluck a piece from the sky 

And say that it is that piece which desires?

When you know you are One, And yet experience seperateness

How cruel that suffering?

What intensity of pain it possesses.

'Till he 'knows',

Long and far he wanders.

So much he talks.  So much he walks.

In vain In vain. in vain.

But little does he 'know.'

Calls he the 'delusive' path,

When wrapped in 'Illusion' himself.

Surrender is to surrender one's 'fear'.

It happens. It cannot be done.

Except by the wise,  who can surrender?

And for the man who refuses to surrender, countless are his pains.

Countless and immeasurable.

Even a little wisdom culminates in surrender.

But how would the Unwise know?

Countless are their pains.

As stars in the sky.

A million rebirths await them.

Just to suffer.

No other reason but to suffer.

Wise are the ones who choose surrender.

Wise are they.

For they do not desire to paint,

The dark sky with black paint.

Which the ignorant do,

Birth after Birth.

Be sure you are bound,

If your chit is bound to the jada.

Be sure , you are bound.

Be sure you are bound,

If you experience Jagrut, Swapna,Sushupti,

As different modes.

Without knowing the One,

 who experiences the difference.

Be sure, you are bound.

Be sure you are bound,

If you experience Knower, known, knowledge, 

As different.

Be sure , You are bound.

Is your Samvit purified enough,

To instinctively and intuitively know,

That there is no Triputi?

Do you have enough Sattva,

Where the three dissolve into One?

'Till then be sure you are bound.

Does the 'I' rise in you?

Just as a fool,

Who opens his mouth, in wise company?

Are you clumsy?

Its your 'paap', the mountain of sin,

That makes you squeak,

When you should be Still.

'till then, sorry brother,

But be very sure you are bound.

A cluster of stars seem connected as a group.

But so far are they from each other.

That's how the Wise are related to the Unwise.

But little do the Unwise know.

Little do they know the ways of the Wise.

Little do they know the path to Surrender.

Little do they know the place from where 'I' doesn't arise.

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