Guru Poornima

The eternal Lighthouse, the Guru, the teacher omnipresent, omniscient, reincarnate to guide his own home. Forever.

My Teachers said …

*my Teachers said …*

My routine broke, as they hushed “Don’t !!”,
Muffled voices echoing faintly across time,
Didn’t care listen, in a hurry, who has time ?
Am in hustle to put one upon my fellowmen,
To Conquer .. the conquest and the victory,
Surrender and subjugation, The Happiness …

But nature cares, for a mother can’t but,
When she sees her child wandering thus,
Her patience for the truants runs short,
Her rebuke, a gentle slap of no avail as she,
Unleashes pestilence, her stormtroopers,
To sweep, clean the home; they do, ruthless,

It seems best is to stay put, clear off streets,
Voice low, no splurge and abide in quiet self,
Closetted with partners and one’s own clan,
Coccooned in quiet contemplation on the ills,
Waiting for her anger to wash over the kind,
It’s message is to mend ; stark one too ..

Seems my teachers said, about this too,
The material, evanescent like the wealth,
It seems he said a time would come, when,
The money is not worth the paper it’s in print,
What to say of success, more than the King,
Who’s mortal hand, as empty as a newborn,
As his mortal was led down the street lined,

Seems they said much more ; now real too…
It is time to hear those faint echoes of time,
Ancients, strange habits seem so in tune,
Let’s put our ears on the ground, let’s listen,
To the faint voices of teachers across time,
For we can hear it better as troopers near..

_~Dr. Easwar_

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