Flute of Krishna (Janmashtami)

Come let me touch the strings of your heart, the tune in which world can smile.

Yes,  have ever heard the flute? No, not of TV.... The one which is wrapped with the scent of lips.... The Flute of 'Krishna'

How could you hear this form of Krishna while having this much of heat in your heart in the form of communal hatred....

The flute has a specialty, as soon as you hear its note, all the animals starts listening to it, however it fades, the next minute. Now from here, the journey of flute starts. After reconnecting the heart, you start drowning.... Then you get so drowned that any other sound stops coming in the ear. Then slowly flute starts lifting you little up from the ground, it generates waves in the body. 

When I see his flute,I wonder why Krishna chose flute amongst all the instruments... However resolving my query this tune of flute is making us more of human.

I did watch at many places..... Krishna is being worshipped as symbol of love with the flute. Every tune that came out of his lips shook the heart of people.

I couldn't understand where those people are gone who got fascinated by his character in Mahabharata... Having chakra, riding on chariot.... I'm yet to find the existence of those devotees , I guess even Krishna never wanted to play that hard part of his life.... But the form of Krishna... With feather of peacock, the form holding a flute with an innocent smile is found everywhere... A lover of this form could earn the same fate as his favorite devotees.

I can feel the melodious music coming out of every cavity of the flute... The music rising from the flute of his highness unifies the preachings of Buddha, Greatest Prophet (SAWS) , Jesus, Moses, Highness of Gurus to the Lord Mahaveera...... 

You'll not be able to listen to the music of  Krishna as long as there is hatred in your heart. How can Krishna and hate reside in the same place?....How come the melody of his flute propagate where there is hate, revenge, quarrel,vanity, chauvinism and thirst of blood?..

There is no boundation of your beliefs... but the only thing that is required is looking at Krishna with the heart full of love..... Then glancing at his flute carefully followed by peeking into your own heart.... If you'll manage to remove all the dirt mentioned before, then the words of the flute passing via your heart will give immense pleasure to your mind... so that the same land which was for you earlier, the place worthy to see only hate will turn out into the place to propagate kindness, love, smile, peace to make the biggest home of our life a place of Love and compassion for all our fellow beings 💞...

~Shikhar Pathak

#Janmashtami

#12August,2020

Death to Life not Life to Death

Death to Life not Life to Death

I should have died much before,

But when I saw seasons changing their colours.... getting casted in the way they should....

Sun sinking after tiring job of giving me trouble....

Letting moon to heal my feet ulcers....

Of me suddenly disappearing for a long time, 

But to come back, with much more revealing brightness and shine...

Seeing the leaves falling from the trees.... 

Leaving that stem without any greed...

To grow new leaves in it...

Giving its new look...

To drift the sand along with water.... As long as it could....

Noticing roses blossoming into thorns...

Peepal growing on a stone,

I got to know What life is....

I knew then, love is a way to heal oneself...

And living without it is an act of courage...

Helping others, self sacrificing is my meaning and motive to live....

I then wrote poem on you,

To sing it to others.... While sitting alone in a dark room,

So that everyone could meet you....

And I can keep you alive in myself....

To learn liveliness....

And to also stay alive by myself....

To keep on loving you like this....

To keep loving my life's healer and heroine.......

#Shikharpathak

#Poetries

'Few Breaths' by Shikhar Pathak

Few Breaths

That thing which keeps slipping, every moment! Few Breaths! How long their duration is? Do you know when their installments will be completed? There are no roots in the feet, but whom to trust, once the thread of kite breaks?

These breaths are the thread of kite, when these are tightly held, the kite of life seems to fly far away in the free open sky, and on the other hand blood keeps leaking. The relief of destination comes along the end of the road. There always lies a return path across that side of road from where nothing can be started from the beginning.

Everything goes around the pupils of the eyes differentiating between black and white, but who is aware?

There are four walls in a room. Leaning back at the floor of the past and looking at the roof of future feels like straightening the waist, but at the same time both the surrounding walls get disappeared from the eyes.

Whom to see! Whom to meet! Whom to trust and lean the back... It is difficult to understand everything in a moment! Very difficult.

Door of this room is about to shut forever it is just waiting for me to step outside and on that day the hands will be freed! Kite will also take its journey on that other side Of The Road and then the pupils of eyes will also get rest.

~ Shikhar Pathak

#ShikharPathak #Separation #DarkFictions 

City and the Mountain

I still remember that morning!
On one side of that steep Road, the smoke rising from the snow capped mountain was forming its own distinct cloud right from the first Ray of dawn.
It is said that we write about the same things that we think about.... I don't know what I lost in trains , rain ,that city and now in mountain and when I would find that.
Tightness of inside, starts to take a grip on the mountains by stretching its arms. The snakeskin of the old man begins to fall in the Gorge itself. A new person comes from inside to grow old.
On that golden day a boat had landed a little inside the lake.Why? and how? No one knows. But he was relieved to think he would get along with someone to come back to shore.
People say that on one night the mountain had moved from its place to the city. The city told the mountain about its true colour and since then the memories of people are still very dark about that night. When a piece of nail gets broken it feels no pain.... But that night before the mountain broke,  it screamed very loudly.... And I missed you...
As if while remembering that black night, it was like remembering that mountain shining like gold! Like listening to the melodious tune in the present buried under the screams of future.... Such as feeling the pain similar to when nails were cut....