‘Even if the cherry flowers bloom,

Ours is a world of suffering.’ — Issa, Japanese poet (1763-1827)


I dedicate this poem to the cuckoo that sings with a sweet voice:


Lonely tree

Blossoming flowers

Kissing bees

Butterflies flirting

In Circles

Cleansing rains

Clearing clouds

Shy Sun shyly shines


So many flowers blossoming into the world

Spreading Love

Beauty of Creation

Selflessly serving

For the Divine One


A voice echoes with the wind

Dear closed flower buds

Blossom, blossom and blossom

Blossom into the world

It is more painful to stay caged in

Than reaching for true Freedom

Let go of your burdens

Pain, abuse and suffering

Let go of your ‘self’

Desires, dreams and attachments

Allow your fragile petals

To open up one by one

Until all is surrendered…


It’s not an easy task

Not at all

Of letting go

So take your time

One day you’ll shine

Just remember

You are not alone

There are so many flowers in the tree

There are so many trees in the forest

And so many forests on Earth

It might be that all are slowly


So much suffering in this process of change

Hence listen, listen to the cuckoo’s calling

Purify your inner world

And blossom into the outer one

The whole universe shall rejoice

From rivers, mountains and forests

To birds, bees, butterflies

All sentient and non-sentient beings

Remember you are not alone

Listen to the sweet cuckoo’s calling

Blossom, blossom and blossom!



Freedom of Thought

Freedom of thought

Like a bird

Flying around the world



Like a phoenix

Burning up impurities to ashes



Like a snow-lion

Hunting high up in the mountains



Like a tiger

Roaming the dark wilderness



Like a tortoise

Shelled by the Dharma



Like a fish

In the pure River of Life



Like a bamboo tree

Up into the heavenly Sky



Like a lotus

To spread its inner beauty to the world



Like the wind

Like the sound

Like the energy of Love

Echoing throughout the Universe

Like a Raindrop Falling Into the Sea

Waterdrop by MrMEEAN
Waterdrop by MrMEEAN

A raindrop falls into the sea

Sent from the Clouds above.

The impact sends ripples all around,

Circular ripples,

Concentrically spreading into the vastness of the sea.


The raindrop soon

Becomes attached to the sea,

Turning itself into seawater.


This rain drop was once sweet and pure

But it became salty.

Salty with the tears fallen into the sea of suffering.

So salty this water droplet became that it lost all of its past memories.

So cycling in the sea,

It remained.


Purposeless wandering,

Vangrantly flowing,

The little droplet was dragged,

Recklessly pushed around by currents,
Never stopping,

Dipping down into the deep sea,

Surfacing up,

And flowing in different directions.

So cycling in the sea

It remained.


Truth is that all things are impermanent

Thus came the day in which the once pure water droplet

Surfaced up.

The droplet was carried up on the back of a blind sea turtle.

Once the turtle rose up into the surface

The water droplet splashed into the air

And saw Everything,

The Beauty of Creation,

The vastness of the Sea of suffering,

The never-ending Horizon

Touching the Sky

With its Heavenly white clouds

And the Golden Sun.

Its warm rays embraced the water droplet,

Breaking its chains that bonded it to the Sea.

The once pure and sweet rain droplet was finally Awakened.

The little droplet remembered all of its past

And it became Free water vapor that ascended back into the welcoming Sky.

River Song Ganga Amar Ma

My research on people’s relationship to rivers had led me to find this inspiring song about the Ganga and Padma rivers. My sole purpose of this post is to share this lovely song with you. To share.

This is an inspiring song composed by Bhupen Hazarika and sung by Runa Laila. It has deep influences from Bengali and Assamese folk music. Its style is connected to the Bhatiyali genre, which is a type of traditional folk song sung by boatmen in the rivers of Bengal while travelling downstream the river. These songs have a contemplative and mystic component in them. Common topics are nature, love, oneness and people’s connection to rivers. I couldn’t find an English translation of this song yet. Also, I couldn’t translate this song myself because my Bengali is limited. Thus, the best online explanation about the meaning of this song is from another blog called Naman Astitva,

“It is a Bengali folk song of the Bhatiyali genre, often sung by the boatman on trips across the Ganga and the Padma rivers. Its meaning of the words is subtle yet beautiful citing that we are all essentially the same. The best line in this song – we share one sky, one breeze and one breath citing that we have one mother – which is the River Ganges. It continues – one wishes, one love, one set of tears, one set of sorrows etc. ”

excerpt from blog Naman Astitva, This is a great blog you should check it out.


Monsoon on Hooghly

The Hooghly River Tide runs high.

Its currents dance through

The Ghats

Where the common people bathe, wash, clean their clothes;

Where Brahmin priests perform sacred rituals and offerings;

Where dogs, pigs and crows scavenge for food amidst the trash.


The River is the Eternal witness.

It observes and observes.

It has seen human depravity at its peak.

Ships carrying people’s own brothers and sisters in chains to be sold as ‘commodities’.

The dumping of battered women’s bodies after monstrous rape crimes.

Bloody political and religious riots with brothers and sisters killing each other.

But the River has also seen the best within the human heart.

Unknown people jumping into the water to save a drowning child.

Ferrymen selflessly working day and night carrying people across the river.

Kind souls praying in Its margins for humanity to Awaken

And realize its current path towards self-destruction.


The River has seen it All.

Unaffected by anything,

Its currents dance

Up and down,

Left and Right.

Ever free.

Freely dancing.

Attached to nothing,

Only absorbed in the Eternal Flow of Infinite Joy and Beauty.


One night the River Tide was dancing,

Rocking the wooden fishermen cribs to sleep

At the tune of a Bhatiyali* folk song.

The River Tide loved the fishermen;

It brought them fish and sustenance.

The fishermen would reciprocate Its Love;

They cared for the River and worshipped it through songs.

That night,

When the fishermen feel asleep in their undulating cribs,

The River Tide decided to look up into the sky;

And saw a Beautiful Moon dancing amidst the clouds.

Being non-dual in nature, the River had both male and female characteristics

Yet the River fell prey to the Passions.

Gradually It started to lose its female energy and only retained its male characteristics.

It shifted to become the male Tidal energy.

Every night the Tide would stare at the Moon.

The Tide would imagine that the Moon’s reflection in its waters would be

The real Moon resting on his lap.

How He longed for that to happen.

The Moon noticed how the Tide stared at Her every night

With eyes full of desire and passion;

She decided to play with his thief like senses.

The lady Moon dressed herself in the finest white silk

And with a soft voice,

She sensually called the Tide to come closer to Her,

The excited and charmed Tide blindly followed her orders.

As the tide tried to reach closer,

The Moon would slowly take off her white silken dress.

Assaulted by desire,

The Tide bubbled in ecstasy.

He tried harder and harder to reach her yet she was too far away.

The same process repeated itself for several nights.

Until one night while leaking a smile of mockery,

The Moon completely vanished like a mirage.

In reality, the Moon had no interest for the Tide.

Her heart longed for the Sun

Yet destiny had them separated.

Rarely meeting.

Performing their God given duties at different times of the day.


The poor Tide seeing the Moon vanish before His eyes,

Finally faced the harsh reality of Desire and Passion.

They will soon and suddenly vanish one day;

Only leaving a trail of hopeless longing and suffering.

Sad, angry and depressed,

The Tide caused chaos everywhere it flowed through:

Sunken boats,

Drowned people,

Flooded banks.

The Tide selfishly flowed its way towards the Sea.

The Heavenly Cloud seeing all this suffering on Earth

Shed tears,

Tiny tear droplets gently embraced the heart broken Tide.

Calming It,

Healing It,

Restoring It.

The Cloud also asked its Thunder child to soar loud in the skies.

It summoned Its Wind friends from all directions.

All together they comforted the Tide saying,

You are not alone,

We see your suffering.

Awaken my friend! Awaken!

Realize Impermanence in your desires and passions!

Remember your long lost non-duality!

And strive for Liberation!

Then you shall lose your fear for the fast approaching Sea!

One day you will Ascend into the Clouds with us and become One with All!

Flow on, my friend! Flow on!

Monsoon has arrived!


*Bhatiyali – Traditional folk songs sung by boatmen in the rivers of Bengal while navigating the river. These songs worship Nature and have a mystic component in them.

A Bird Sits Contemplating

A bird sits contemplating

On a branch

Of dancing trees

Swaying at the sound of snow white sugar.


So sweet,

This ice-cold view

That somehow warms the heart

And whispers that God is everywhere.


God is with the bird outside in the snow,

For it shelters it with life and warmth.

God is with the dancing trees

Swaying at the sound of the crisp wind.


God is in the falling snow.

For it spreads the world with a layer of infinite beauty

That only few stop and appreciate its beauty.

(The bird contemplates.)

God is in you and me.

Always here,

It’s just that we forget sometimes.

We forget the most important of things:

Forget love,

Forget beauty,

Forget our place in the world.


So contemplate like the bird, my friend

And have faith

For the Lord is embracing you, right now.

Waking Up / Awakening Up

Pipiipiiipi, pipiipiiipi,

Alarm clock ringing,

Banging my head,

Shattering it into shards of broken thoughts,

To do lists…

Worries, fears and temptations.


A voice within says,


“I need to wake up”.


My body says,

“Why should I wake up?”

“I am warm and numb under these layers of blankets.”

“Covering me, protecting me from all chaos outside.”

“It’s cold and I don’t feel like moving. ”

“I am fine right here.”

So I remain numb and warm.


Dreaming, constructing and experiencing illusive worlds of

Comfort, temptations and pleasures.

But I still suffer somehow.

I am still unhappy,

While dream worlds arise and vanish,

Its process speeds up in an attempt to cover its own system flaws.

These flaws I notice yet I remain in this dreamlike world.

Numb, warm and lost.


Tired of cycling through bubble like dreams,

A voice whispers,

“It’s enough. I’m done with this! I am going to count down from ten and WAKE UP!”

Time passed as follows:

TEN years took Ulysses on his journey back home.

NINE muses needed to appear to inspire this poem.

EIGHT Immortals had to cross the sea together for a heavenly banquet.

SEVEN Pleiades sisters had to escape Orion to become stars.

SIX spheres of samsara one has to cycle through to plant the seed of liberation,

FIVE elements one needs to harmonize to grasp the Way,

FOUR Noble Truths one needs to internalize to find Nirvana,

THREE to understand Trinity,

TWO opposites to balance Ying Yang,

ONE to make sense of it All under God.


And I get out of bed!

It’s freezing cold outside.

I shake and tremble,

I mumble,

“Why did I do this?”

Then I go outside for a walk.

Light comes and dances with me,

Looking up,

The Dharma Sun shines

And warms me up,

From the heart,

Inside out,

Re-igniting the long lost spirit fire

That will light its way to true Awakening.