Where is she?

He was a dreamer
An idealist too,
Yet within that framework
Existed objective analysis
Within a subjective perspective.
Tons of contradictions,
All blended together
To form the perfect picture
Of total chaos.
But someone said
That even chaos has certain patterns.

A little sweet wine,
A touch of coffee liquor
And the rest is all to taste.
Mix it all up
And the net result
Forms that perfect confusion.

The story builds this way.
He, the protagonist,
Is off on another bumpy ride
Thru’ his own ‘mental-countryside’.
The search has begun,
For what
That is yet to be known.

The horns are blaring,
This is Indian countryside, baby!
Screech!
Phew! Saved.
A thought nearly ran him down.
He stares right into it,
And there is the first clue.
Fast and furious
That’s what he’ll like,
But able to stop
When time demands.

On he moves,
He must not stop.
Life is short,
And she must fill
The Cup of her Life
To the brim.

He crosses the Ganges
And looks far across.
The waters are so peaceful and calm,
Tranquillity bestowed upon them
By the Mighty Hand.
Yet below the surface
The currents flow
With force unmatched,
Allowing nothing to hold within!
A force so potent
And a will to live,
If only she had.

Further down he meets
The religious ones.
Orange they wear
And pure white are their souls.
This purity would do her good
And help her cleanse
Her inner self,
All thru’ the process
Of Karma and Svadharma.

He moves up the hills
And the clouds begin to surround,
Like a mysterious stranger,
They wrap their arms around.
A slight cold touch
And then a soft drizzle.
The Gods may be gently crying
Or hiding from the Light.
If only she could
Let loose at times;
The grief will spill
But not bother her anymore.
Then she would fear not again
Looking within,
And seek not again
A Guru without.
The Master of herself
Is what she would become.

The road winds thru’
Jungles of solitude.
The mountains tower high
All specks of brown and green;
If only she was
A confused blend like me.
Contradictions within
And contradictions without,
A desire to learn
From this mix of all.
A need to add
More colour everyday,
To these specks of brown, green and blue.

He climbs further,
The air goes thin.
The struggle begins
But he could still win.
The words “give up”
He never knew.
He would never teach her
And she must never learn.

The journey is what counts
Not the destination,
As once you’re there
It’s already the end.

He’s still climbing
It’s rocky and steep,
Each step takes him closer
To where she awaits him
With bated breath.
He begins to slip,
The going is torturous.
The doubts creep in,
Maybe she never was there.
He’s just human
And may just break,
One cannot say.
The mind begins to drift,
The dream still exists.
A potential conflict
With disastrous consequences.

One more step
And he should be there.
The final call
Which he cannot miss.
He lunges forward
With the hand grasping the peak.
One last pull
Which had him there.

But alas!
She was nowhere to be found.
Was it all a fantasy?!
His senses he could not believe,
Half the brain in grief
And the other half astound.

The journey was over,
The end was here.
Damn! What a waste!
He’d been a great fool
As the one he was seeking
Was right there at home
Waiting all along.