More than Words !

It seems to me that, Art and Creativity, is the journey toward trans-humanism. Where technology is the basis of growth, and imagination is the basis of unlimited universal access. We are cyborgs with beating hearts. Our devices are the active part of our being. And in so many ways we are the part of the worldwide mechanics and technology. From a light-bulb to an artificial heart. We have reached to the point, where natural and 'what is supposed' to be unnatural, find the perfect synchronicity. We are the cosmo-immortals. Humans, have always felt so, deep within. Philosophers, Yogis and Prophets have always tried to explain that. But today we live that lucidity. We don't need to be religious, or spiritual. Our life itself is a grand majesty. We live the continuous epiphany of 'here and now', while connecting with 'not here and not now'. Its a part of our daily life. The question for me, is if we can live it well and to its full potentials. If we can f...

Once upon a time, there lived an earphone. She was painted in white, and made to sound just so right. But one day she died. The thing is like some puzzle pieces, she could not be solved. So, forever- she remained unsolved. I met her, in her soulful grooves. Hastily she said her words, her language improper, improbable. I only had silence, my language, swinging with metaphors. Her sound always frolicking- traveled to the distant land of my heart. But one day she died. With her he died. C'est la vie. Photo Credit: http://indulgy.ccio.co/xE/a3/J5/274719645989722626EYRYluFnc.jpg

T'ai-Chi; means the beam- sustaining the roof.  The curvy roads,  leading to the sacred Talisman.  Where, his roof- sustains her beam.  Abracadabra. She awakens her 'Genii'-  The Genii Says,  'I shall grant you three wishes'  She says, let 'Aphrodite' be her consort,  in this eternal journey  where every curve speaks  a thousand words: of silence to his soul.  Let her voice,  be his epiphany. The gift beyond Dionysus's wine.  And finally,  let him imbue himself in her.  Where the mystical Talisman- survives the falling of the roof, and vanishing beam waves.  Finally the lovers meet,  somewhere in emptiness. 

Tantra has always remained a very mischievous topic. For the simple fact that, tantra identifies life as the pure form of bliss, and not suffering. For a practitioner of Tantra, every situation and every happening is a great opportunity to understand the ultimate.  Let me just present a story, for understanding how absurd tantra can be.  "Once there lived a great yogini. Her name was Laksminkara (provider of fortune). She was born in a royal family in Udyana (modern day swat valley in Pakistan). The king decided to get her married at an very early age. But she refused to get married and left the palace and went to practice Tantric meditations in cremation grounds. She did so for seven years. And finally attained enlightenment. Her own brother King Indrabhuti, was her Tantric consort, guru and student. The villagers soon started to scorn her for having sexual relationship with her own brother. It is said, she cut her head off, and paraded through streets to demon...

Eyes infectious of wonders, Yes, I wonder.  Her smiles reminding  of altars, of gods- of beautiful intoxications.  Her hands freezing,  in the epicenter of summer.  Her inferences standing- illogical with troubles.  Who is she I wonder ? In her heart, a metamorphosis: changing, transforming transcending all of my heart's ember.  Her felicity,  reminding me of autumn,  in disguise of december.  This ethereal imbrications, of woebegone adventure.  This ripple of emulation- fizzle of repetitions.  Her penumbra derivations, jilted with mellifluous  divinations.  Erstwhile, in his heart- the galaxies are moving forth.  The lovers elixirs,  of her dalliance with  my thoughts ! Photo Credit: http://www.wallpapervortex.com/wallpaper-35258_1_miscellaneous_digital_art_hipster_triangle_post_modern_abstract_minimalist_art.html#.VEHaQv...

Sometime dim lights,  penetrate the whole universe,  as the bleak symphony  of cold october- her visage hides the charm  of ten thousand suns   in her hearts september ! She is windswept by love  somewhere lost,  in her own clouds of existence  this bleak emptiness this desolate melancholy  inflates her with confusion,  all but confusions.  Yet, by the doors of her pure heart she climbs up the dismal woe's her eyes, her nose, her ears speaking of the forgotten lores, this uproar shakes the universe  and her own seashore.  She hides inside her integrated layers,  found now, lost now,  here now, not her now,  that's how she is,  the flag of some distant forgotten monastery,  mystically dancing in her  own symphony !!

jammed jacobin  jabberwock  jaunty jumps- jumping jest  juvenilia  jugs jacuzzi jumpy james  juicy jane  jiffy jumps  jettatura justifying  judgements  jazzetry jerking off jane   juggins  joggling jaws  jaunty jumps- jumping jest  juvenilia  Photo Credit: http://crispyclicks.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Surreal-Girls-Images-14.jpg