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The Market Place (Two Poems)
Poet’s Introduction

Lately I have noticed many well-educated people looking for a "quick-fix search" for stress, sorrows, frustrations and guilt. To satisfy them the marketplace has vendors (many of them from India). These two poems address the fact that what the vendors have to offer makes people forget the value of common sense and self-effort. Here is an explanation of some of the terms used in the poem:

Blind folded beings: Those who think that answers and solutions lie totally outside. Those who have lost the skill to know when one is being taken for a ride.

Two Eyed Goal: Man's legitimate and innate desire for Fulfillment, Divine or otherwise.

One Eyed Guides: Panderers of spiritual wealth who appear as gurus, healers, swamis, priests, heads of missions whose eyes are on the "dollar" - to achieve their personal ambition through you. Your ultimate welfare would leave them without a mechanism to make more for themselves.

Gardens: Scenario of rituals, gems, amulets, sacred objects that are used for substituting corrections in personal attitude and willingness to take challenges in life.


The Race

The adhyatmic Hindu diaspora is full
Of beings who have their hands self-tied
Their eyes both covered with a fold.
Walking, running, jumping, towards the Two-Eyed-Goal.
The one-eyed guides are waiting to take them to the shore,
With one hand behind them,
The other stretched out,
With jingling bracelets that sound
"Here, a quick fix for you! Fear Not! Just Give!!!
Follow me, ride on my back, to your (my!) coveted Goal!"
Let go of the tie! Remove the blindfold!
The two eyed sadhaks that we are
Shall march to the Two-Eyed-Goal.
To the tune of love thyself first, as the other,
To the drum of monotonous self-effort,
The Zen of daily life we shall sing,
And find therein our adventures.
Some days, miles are covered.
Some days only a step,
Some days leaning on another,
Knowing no one is ahead,
Only to become stronger the next day,
We shall indeed roll.
For the two eyed sadhaks that we are
Shall indeed make it to
The Anxiously Awaiting, Two-Eyed-Goal.

Choosing Your Path

The Straight path lies ahead, alas our looks betray
From the corners of our eyes we see winding paths that stray!
Here the path is cleared for us, hedges nicely trimmed.
Fragrant flowers and gorgeous trees greet us, as we begin,
Glimmering ponds to wash our feet and benches to recline.
Who are the silent gardeners here that seem to know our kind?
Already half way in, our hearts begin to dim.
Something is amiss
The puzzle parts don’t fit!
Yes, the other path was straight, too long!
Yes the other path was full
Of cobblestones that hurt our feet
With problems, doubts and pain.
There are bushes to be cleared
If we wish to remove all fear.
There are hills to be climbed
To see what lies ahead.
The straight path is tough.
Little do we know
The reason why we are here.
You see, births before,
We had taken to these very winding roads.
Should we doubt again for the millionth time,
That the Straight path that is mine
Is tough, but leads verily to my Home?

This poem was featured in Desi Journal.

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