summertempest

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  • summertempest 1w

    Let me open the bars of my
    prison - mind,
    become a bird
    and fly away...


    ©(tarun k.)

  • summertempest 2w

    How can one
    not see the rain and look
    away, like work is all
    important !



    ©(tarun k)

  • summertempest 3w

    How high they build
    The tombs and graves; and
    Mausoleums grand,


    For

    What is but-
    a two yards long, food
    for maggots.



    ©tarun k.

  • summertempest 29w

    You can read the full piece 'Two Seasons' in the second issue of ' Brief Notes on Life' , my newsletter/writing space. (Link in Bio).

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    Stars ✨

    '..all songs, all Beauty seems to be a fleeting wisp like dream. Kindling hope appears as hopeless as fireflies/glow-worms trying to lighten the world on a moonless night.

    And then and only then, (in that unpierceable blackness), can we truly see the Stars.'

    (Excerpt from Brief Notes on Life)
    ©

  • summertempest 31w

    Excerpt from the Issue 001 of 'Brief Notes on Life.' Link in Profile page.

    Even before the musician composes the tunes, and the lyricists writes the lines, the Song exists. In some other dimension, that we cannot perceive. But they exist all the same.

    The Muse is the go-between. She inspires the musician; the lyricist becomes aware of the Presence and tries to render it in words. The musicians composes, the lyricist writes, the singers give voice and the audience listens. Each one privy to only one aspect of this Presence. But Her true form is beyond perception. Our limited senses can only perceive very little - the gross part of that omnipotent Presence. Perhaps that is the reason, the saints and the Bhakti Sufi Poets, described their divine experiences, the mystical visions in the form of Songs. The one language that could express the Divine.

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    Songs

    Even before the musician composes the tunes, and the lyricists writes the lines, the Song exists. In some other dimension, that we cannot perceive. But they exist all the same.


    ©t.s.k

  • summertempest 32w

    Excerpt from the Newsletter 'Brief Notes on Life.' The link of the Newsletter in the Profile page

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    In the countryside, the dawn comes in different hues, pink, yellow, orange, violet, purple before they merge into white. And then they separate in the evening - a cacophony of colours drenching the twilight sky- each hue like an Apsara bringing down the curtain to a wonderful day. A majestic performance of colours.

    As if the entire sky has become a canvas and the Artist in deep meditation is recreating the Cosmos on the sky.

    ©t.s.k

  • summertempest 32w

    Excerpt from the newsletter : Brief Notes on Life. (Link in profile).


    #songs
    #life
    #poetry

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    On Songs

    .
    .
    Even before the musician composes the tunes, and the lyricists writes the lines, the Song exists. In some other dimension, that we cannot perceive. But they exist all the same.

    ©

  • summertempest 36w

    Some tears
    end in poetry

    Some stars
    are destined to shatter

    Some stories
    remain unfinished

    Between the last ray of the Sun
    ( at the sea's end,)
    And the first sigh of darkness
    I relive her memories
    ©t.s.k.

  • summertempest 49w

    Vitthala, Vitthala
    Thy holy name keeps the world afloat
    Won't you rush to save us?

    Drowning in the endless misery
    Your name, the only refuge
    Each breath weighs like a debt


    Vitthala,Vitthala
    Uttering thy holy name, Nama attained salvation
    We walk in Tuka's shadow
    And dance to your holy name

    Vitthala, Vitthala
    The abhangs fill the air
    And black clouds cover the sky
    Like Panduranga watching over us
    The world is Pandharpur


    It rains. The parched,
    poor soul celebrates
    Vitthala, Vitthala!
    ©tarun k

  • summertempest 60w

    The Sun rises in the eastern sky
    Filling the farthest fields with gold
    And warmth, and light,
    And hope

    Each day
    Like a promise made
    (A father's word)
    To,
    A little bud on a tiny sprout.


    ©Tarun K.