Advaita....

I have put duality away,
I have seen two worlds are one,
One I seek, one I know
One I see, one I call
He is the one, He is the last
He is the outward
He is the inward

----Jelauddin Rumi

jo dil khoja aapna, mujhse bura na koi.....

there are many things I despise
loudness, I find it everywhere...
around on the road, at office, in my house
the bus, the traffic and the driver
all yell at you to move over
then there is the computers at office
that tick tick and tick you over
in the din, i find myself left out
move over to a corner to ponder
whats wrong, why do i find everything wrong????
i read, or try read whats wrong ..... in the things that i encounter
slides of vision zip past.... i rewind
whats wrong, whats really wrong -- with the world?
tired i let my mind retire ... to a corner
and then delve to the depth of the whats really wrong saga
the mind cools off, sits placid
then it turns around ---gives me a look square--
i ask, perturbed, why the look, whats wrong?
it keeps the look, and says but calm ....
nothings wrong ---with the world,
whats wrong is with you
the world isn't loud, you are
i protest, say you creep and a cheat, you ain't fit be my mind
the mind recedes, laughing
i then catch up with a friend
to tell her how i feel and what is wrong with everything around
bare my hear out and yelllllll---things are wrong and wrong and wrong
days past and i forget, having been cornered by myself
now i sit at my comp and find a text that the pal wrote
on my day out with her and our talk
and what she read of it
and then it strikes me
yes my mind was right ---something is wrong
not with the world, but me
its not the world who is loud, but me
the world is how you see it
and i saw it loud, for i was loud
i saw it wrong, for i was wrong

Sing O' my mind of the love of man and God
Much like Hallaj did -- that martyr of mystical love,
Who died at the Abassind's hand and called --
"a threat to the state" for saying in trance
"Ana al Haq (I am Truth)"
I wish to sing along the same tunes
For in life there is no charm
Its love, bitter and words, hollow
But will they, the Abassinds of the Day
Kill me? Or rather not let me sing?
Killing is better than the strangle ...
For as long as I remain, let me sing...
Sing songs of love
Till You remain and I vanish in You
And before they come to strangle
"Kill me, my faithful friends,
For in my being killed is my life"
As Hallaj said.