I am formless now,

but absolute:

something I didn’t know

when I was out there.

Here I exist

purely as a unit

of consciousness:

I  imagine what I want

and become that.


Sometimes I am a string

gently depressed  in Raag Yaman

by Shiv Sharma on his santoor

or a note of longing

gliding out of Shreya Ghoshal’s throat

as she is singing Bairi Piya

or simply part of the colour mix

in the bodies of Lucien Freud

or a trembling line in a

Shakespeare sonnet:


Examples too many

to contain here.


In this state,

time of the day and season of the moment

are completely irrelevant.

Let me put it simply for you:

I am one with the beautiful world

I  presently reside:



p20 (c) pradeep gopalan



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