The Crocin nights

i sleep like a four month old fetus. the noise from nearby station tickles the tin drums guardin' the cochlea-pair. crows quarrel, mate, and reconcile. a telephone rings and fucks up the precipatory two spoonfuls of silence. suddenly a Ti:sapph laser emergin' from the Orion enters my room. did that come from the third eye of Vishnu? the beam of aroused photons perform a fertility dance as the inhabitants of Obando do and start to take some shape. is that really you Madhusudana my lord??

i wake up and become vamana as i run faster and faster. the last string of cotton on my body dissolves in dark, the dark energy, worshipped as Tulpa in Tibet. now that both we're naked as the newborn, i and the winkin' stars, the lakshmanrekha of maya has been crossed successfully.

Agnimide Purohitam Yajnasya Devam|
Ritvijam Hotaram Ratnadhatamam||

o mighty Agni, the God of fire, make me fiery as you're - i prayed.

the nights are cold and silent. but i mustn't stop. i just can't afford to.

what place is this? i looked around. a tree, a bifurcatin' tree.

that very tree who greeted us everyday with all her leaves, smilin', when i used to go to the Lake with Pitaji in childhood days.

isn't that someone standin' behind those branches?

as i come closer - the vriksha grows in all ten directions. Uttar, Dakshin, Purva, Pashchim, Agni, Ishana, Nairita, Vayu, Urdha, Adha.

and finally becomes Om, gradually replicatin' the shape of mother of all sounds, the primeval sonic energy that existed even before the cosmos was born.

the first call for Farz dies down as soon as a jet moans just right below the trop. i opened my eyes. the sea-green OLED says Brahmamuhurta has just set in.