Ravi Tandukar

Mother nature’s free gifts,
With little help from sun and rain,
From few leaves stuck in a pot of soil
to a full bush of coriander in a few wks
from tender follies
to a life abundant and overflowing.

Lost to you, is you, the true you.
You will know if you stop, pause, and listen to your own thoughts for a second
Ever occurred, you have lost yourself, and lost sense of time and reality
You have lost yourself to
Your insatiable greed, love of goods and money, gadgets, shoes, foods, celebrity gossips, social media, false sense of achievement, entitlement,TV, screens, feeling superior and satisfaction of putting others down
Slave to love of ‘God’ – that mythical figure who will figure it all out for you,
who will wash away all your sins, give you everything you pray for,
But instead, you pay for it
with your soul, your identity, your respect and beliefs
all given away blindly.
Deep beneath, you know it is all fake, and myth.
Ever thought, why?
Life is short
And the one you need to find, is yourself in you.
Your holy grail is not outside, its inside you,
there to be discovered
Deep inside you, buried in the pile somewhere,
is the child that is you, the true you that you have always neglected
waiting for you to find
waiting for you to un-slave.

I miss the mountains, I want to travel, says the He bird.
She bird: Mountains aren’t going anywhere, just stay put.
He bird: I want to see the city of London, Lights of Paris, cobbled stones in Rome.
She bird: London, Paris and Rome aren’t going anywhere.
Yeah, thinks the he bird, I can always go later. Lets make life first.
Then life spuns the net, takes flight, there is no way getting out.
Body is starting to crumble, wings are getting creaky
Still youthful, and full or heart to spread the wings, but can’t really leave.
Life changes everything, everywhere, brings COVID.
Earth starts to recover, feel lighter with so many dead and burnt.
Paris is no Paris of his dreams anymore, beauty has given way to fear.
London is no lively, but barely living. Rome is buried.
The He bird is still dreaming of the mountains,
somewhere near, some far, some in his homeland.
Life spuns, you go where you want to go,
before you can not get unstuck.

Son to parents: Lets get out of the track..I can hear the train coming.
Mother: Where? I don’t hear anything. We are not getting off the track.
Son: Sit still and listen, put your ears to the track, you can hear it.
Father: Yeah, I can faintly hear it, but its not coming our way.
Moments later, train is in the sight.
Mother: Yeah, I can see it now, too late I am stuck to the track.
Lets see if I can dodge it
Father:Let us just just hope that it stops in time, or changes lane. It is up to God now.

A potato is dreaming..
He got home dirty,
All covered in mud after a day of play with friends.
He showers and wipes himself dry.
Looking at himself in the mirror,
all clean and shiny yellow now,
admires the view.
He walks into the bedroom, lies down in his big bed.
Then the knife falls..and chop!