My 'The Wasteland'.

(जगदेतदूषरम्) / jagadetadūṣaram
The world is but a barren land. 

(जगदेतदूषरम्)  See here 

Prayer to Mother.

The Miracle !

The Miracle !
___________________

© Vinay Kumar Vaidya, Ujjain, 25/09/2014.

The world inside,
The world outside,
And the world in-between,
Move into one-another, smoothly, ......
Coalescing, ...
As I look the evening sky,
The solitary bird,
Flying high,
catches my eye,
Enters me,
All is silent and serene,
This first day of summer solstice,
And I am just no more!
--

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - 'लाचारी'

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
__________________________

Some frogs are poisonous,
Some poisonous are frogs,
Some frogs are intellectuals,
Some intellectuals are frogs,
Be he an intellectual,
Or a poisonous kind,
A frog is basically a frog,
He can't stop,
To jump and to hop,
--
The above is a rendering of my Hindi poem as given here :

लाचारी
________
कुछ मेंढक ज़हरीले होते हैं,
कुछ ज़हरीले मेंढक होते हैं,
कुछ मेंढक तो होते हैं शाकाहारी
तो कुछ शाकाहारी मेंढक होते हैं !
शाकाहारी हो या हो ज़हरीला,
ज़हरीला हो या शाकाहारी,
मेंढक तो आखिर मेंढक ही होता है,
उछलकूद करना है उसकी लाचारी !
--

Freedom within oneself, ...

श्रीमद्भग्वद्गीता / śrīmadbhagvadgītā 8.1

श्रीमद्भग्वद्गीता  / śrīmadbhagvadgītā
______________________________

I was / am a bright student of Sanskrit and Mathematics.
After post-Graduation (M.Sc.) in 1977, wanted to do research-work in Mathematics, but had to do a bank-job because of the compulsions of livelihood.
I often think Vedanta and  śrīmadbhagvadgītā  in a 'mathematical vein'.
Accordingly, yesterday I discovered a new way of representing the following text ( śloka 1 of Chapter 8) of This text.
Though you can view this on my regular Gita Blog, I am giving a preview here also.
 

Poetry of date / 16/09/2014

Poetry of date / 16/09/2014,
______________________

© Vinay Kumar Vaidya, Ujjain 

नन्दन, अभिनन्दन !
--
This day every year,
Reminds me,
I am / was never born.
It is the thought,
That is born and wears out,
In a moment,
Like a rose,.
That Blooms, flowers, and withers away,
Spreading out beauty and fragrance,
Of its delicate fragile existence,
Spreading joy and happiness,
In the mean-while,
Reminds me,
I am / was never born,
Though the body and the world are born,
Like a flower,
With the thorns surrounding,
In the consciousness,
That is / was never born.
This thought, that emerges out,
And submerges again and again,
Reminds me,
I am the consciousness,
The ground where this delicate flower blooms,
I AM The Consciousness,
That is / was never born nor dies,
But abides and sports for ever, 
As me and the world,
I AM THAT.
--  

Remembering You! (poem/15/09/2014)