INDEX

Butterflies

Creations and the Creators

How do they do it?

I Am Walking On An One-way Street

In My Mind’s Sky

It is All in the Packaging

Pandemic Infection

Parallel Universes

Purba Purusha

Revolving Door

Running Amuck

Salmon Run

Scary Thoughts

Seeing more by Closing Eyes

The Sentinel of Time

Shakyamuni’s Dance

Spider Web

Sunrise after the Snowstorm

The Barrier Reef

The Bipolar Oak Leaf

The Caged Bird

The Chariot of Life

The Creator and the Creation

The Dance of Disintegration

The Desire and Quest

The Force

The Fragrance of the Sweet Jasmine

The Land of Endearment

The Motion of Living

The mundane Day

The Quest of a lifetime

The Quest For My Present

The Reality Check

The Ritual of Re-initiation

The Show goes on

The Silence of the Night

The Story of a Candle Light

The Tale of Tails

The Tulip bud of the Afternoon

The Window to all Hearts and Mind

The world we live in

The Year of the Life

Truth is Nothing but an Inference

Uncommon within Commonality

Wild Mustard Flowers

Wild Mushrooms

Your Lover was Once a Stranger

 

 

Truth is Nothing but an Inference

When I was very green
Greener than the green mango
I was very clear
Of many things
What is right?
What is wrong?
What is truth?
What is a lie?
What is fair?
What is moral?
What is immoral?
Who is beautiful?
Who is smart?
What happens when we die?
What God said to whom?

Now,
Things are not that clear cut

The boundaries
Between good and bad
Moral and immoral
All disappeared
The heaven and hell
Who is the God’s chosen children?
Who is a terrorist?
Who is a freedom fighter?
All became so messy
So grey
So hazy

Primitives became ultramodern
Sophisticated urbanites
Went chanting and counting beads
What knowledge we need
To be snobbish
Who is savage
And who is most advanced human being
Is so much a bull.

I wonder
Why God should bless only a certain country
Why the suffering of certain people
Are worth more than others
In a strange way
The reality is so much like the gods
Our creation
For our own sustenance
Biased and unreal
We sleep walk on a moving platform
We cry and laugh
We fight and die
Not knowing that
The truth is
Nothing but an inference
((*.*))
February 14, 1997