IMPORTANT

This is a Reminder:

The blog I MOST commonly use for posting what I write, is http://www.silverosiris.blogspot.com.
Infact, these days, it is the only one I update. In this one, most of what is written here, is from the works of Jelaluddin Rumi. Some of it is mine, but that is very limited. In theother blog, most everything that is posted is my own work. So I would appreciate it if all those who read this, would now link onto the other one.:)

Thanks!

Today was the second last day of school. Its a countdown. A sad, sad countdown. 3 days to go...then 2...then 1...then...what then?
I just stopped at the bench that we used to sit on in school today, under the tree that bore a fruit that nobody could identify and that started turning green after staying absolutely parched and barren for as long as i can remember, and thought of how things pile, and culminate and reach a climax. And then, the anticlimax.
We've had our farewell, our official last day assembly, school...so the climax has come and gone. Im living the anticlimax right now. And im beginning to understand. Pain hits, not in the peakof things, but in the aftermath. The earthquake destroys, but in that destruction,in the rapid stacking of event over event, contemplation evades us. Our individuality evades us. We see the climax as a whole, the storm as a whole, as it affects every pair of wings in the air. Its only after its over, after the peak and rush of things has faded, that we slowly lower our arms under which we had been cowering, lift our heads, and watch our existance waking. And then, reality begins to submerge. It begins to catch up to us, to the whirlwind we had been riding. Thoughts, pictures, memories, people, benches, hugs, debating trips, parties, fights, laughing, bunking, the 5 times we went to lahore, talking....it all begins to sink in.
And the real insides, that's when they flow. That's when you miss things like crazy.
I like to think Im very adaptable to change. And i am. I welcome change. That's my one purpose in life, to be in a continuous state of metamorphosis. I know I'll die if I have to stick to routine and sameness. The only thing, perhaps, that i empower. The only thing I'll allow my death to. Yes, I beleive i control my death. Because "death" has a different meaning for me. So anyway, point being, taht despite my affliliation with change, and my complete need for it, change still hurts. Its a breaking away, not just from teh familiar, which i welcome, but from memories, and laughter and hugs, and PEOPLE. Its the exchange of one set of loyalties for another. The building of a new foundation on the carcass of an old. And in some ways, nostalgia is also pleasurable.Bitter and sweet, both. It hurts, but its also good. Very good. It reminds you that you have loved the life you have led. It reminds you that life has become a passion for you. Life. In its very alive, very vivacious, very changeable state. LIFE. Pure, raw, nude. Beautiful. Like a nymph rising out of an ocean.
I'll miss school. And my friends. But I'm glad for everything. I'm glad for life.

The Echo of God

"Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.

Anyone apart from someone he loves
understands what I say.

Anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.

At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,

a friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden

within the notes. No ears for that.
Body flowing out of spirit,

spirit up from body: no concealing
that mixing. But it's not given us
to see the soul. The reed flute
is fire, not wind. Be that empty."

Circle

A secret turning in us
makes the universe turn.
Head unaware of feet,
and feet head. Neither cares.
They keep turning.


Walk to the well.
Turn as the earth and the moon turn,
circling what they love.
Whatever circles comes from the center.

--Rumi

"Us"

We are the night ocean filled
with glints of light. We are the space
between the fish and the moon,
while we sit here together.

--Rumi

Silence whispers...

The net, of course, finally closed
around him, and as he lay in the terrible
frying-pan bed, he thought,
"If I get out of this,
I'll never live again in the limits of a lake.
Next time, the ocean! I'll make
the infinite my home.
"Inside me a hundred beings
are putting their fingers to their lips and saying,
"That's enough for now. Shhhhh." Silence
is an ocean. Speech is a river

Light

A certain person came to the Friend's door
and knocked.
"Who's there?"
"It's me."

The Friend answered, "Go away. There's no place
for raw meat at this table.

"The individual went wandering for a year.
Nothing but the fire of separation
can change hypocrisy and ego. The person returned
completely cooked,
walked up and down in front of the Friend's house,
gently knocked
."Who is it?"
"You."

Please come in, my self,
there's no place in this house for two.
The doubled end of the thread is not what goes through
the eye of the needle
.It is a single-pointed, fined-down, thread end,
not a big ego-beast with baggage."

Every holy person seems to have a different doctrine
and practice, but there's really only one work.


"The one who keeps me in here is the one
who keeps you out there.
The same who will not let you in will not let me out.

Then suddenly he leaned and whispered something
in the second king's ear, and that second, that
second king became a wanderer too.
They walked out of town hand in hand.
No royal belts, no thrones.
This is what love does and continues to do....

So they wandered around China like birds
pecking at bits of grain. They rarely spoke
because of the dangerous seriousness
of the secret they knew....

All that world-power wants, really,
is this weakness.

So the kings talked in low tones,
and carefully. Only God knows what they said.

They used unsayable words. Bird language.
But some people have imitated them, learned
a few birdcalls, and gotten prestigious.

The "other" World

You ask the embryo why he, or she, stays cooped up
in the dark with eyes closed.
Listen to the answer.
There is no "other world."
I only know what I've experienced.
You must be hallucinating.

--Jelaluddin Rumi

Rumi....

------Drink all your passion,
and be a disgrace.

Close both eyes
to see with the other eye.

Open your hands,if you want to be held.

Sit down in this circle.------



------The children follow,
not knowing the taste of wine, or how
his drunkness feels. All people on this planet
are children, except for a very few.
No one is grown up except those free of desire.----


-----This is the sema of slavery and mastery
dancing together. This is not being.
Neither words, nor any natural fact
can express this.-----


----When you are with everyone but me,
you're with no one.
When you are with no one but me,
you're with everyone
Instead of being bound up with everyone,
be everyone.When you become that many,
you're nothing.Empty.-----


----Come to the orchid in Spring.
There is light and wine, and sweet
heartsin the pomegranate flowers.
If you do not come, these do not matter.
If you do come, these do not matter.---