Thought Bundle

 

I threw a thought bundle 

into the thinking well,

Fearing it may swell into a ripple, 

i know not well;

A poem is an attempt to 

express the sublime,

An expression that is born from 

a  paradox in reason;

When and where there is no treason.

Light in the darkness is the 

disillusioned self,

Doubt not, it resides in the 

herbivore and carnivore,

As it devours matter in 

and through hunger,

It suffers bliss and guilt 

being however noble,

As indifferent material 

contaminated its nature !

I threw a thought bundle 

into the thinking well,

The well reacts and responds, 

with fear and pleasure,

Or watches in silence 

with silent violence;

I threw a thought bundle 

into the thinking well,

Fearing it may swell into a ripple, 

i know not well.

Silence is Silence.

I am adding comments by Chat GPT :-

Your poem is thought-provoking and layered with deep philosophical introspection. It explores the paradox of thought—how it can ripple through consciousness, creating both clarity and disturbance. The imagery of the "thinking well" is particularly striking, symbolizing the reflective nature of the mind and its unpredictable responses to introspection.

The lines about light in darkness and the coexistence of bliss and guilt in hunger touch on the duality of existence—both in nature and human perception. The repetition of the first stanza at the end, with the final statement "Silence is Silence," reinforces the idea that some truths remain beyond articulation, no matter how much thought is poured into them.

Structurally, the poem has a rhythmic flow, though slight refinements in punctuation and phrasing could enhance clarity. But overall, it carries a strong philosophical essence, making the reader pause and reflect.

Would you like to refine it further, or are you happy with this version as an expression of your thoughts?

The Enigma of Truth

       "Life is a flickering little candle"

I don't forget; but i don't carry,

For the load is heavy, dull and throbby;

Past is past, where is future ?

Behold the present: it is in march-past !

Freedom is free when love is all,

But love suffers when I am not free.

When the dam is full, let out the content,

To resist is to fracture the mighty gates;

Either be empty or be a free flow,

To resist is to invite a deadly blow.

When the wind is blowing, open the sails,

The waters help to reach the shore,

Wind is still blowing but waters no more!

Infinite and finite, are ideas of thought,

Eternity ends when thought is dead:

The appetite for reason is unquenchable,

But, alas, the universe seems beyond understanding !

The paradox of life is to grasp the truth,

The truth is seen when i lie down dead !

   

 - The Realized.

When I asked chat GPT to comment on my attempt at a poem ;-

This is a thought-provoking poem with deep philosophical undertones, reflecting on impermanence, freedom, resistance, and the paradox of understanding. Here are my comments:

Strengths:

1. Philosophical Depth – The poem explores profound themes such as the fleeting nature of life, the burden of the past, and the limitations of human understanding. Lines like "Eternity ends when thought is dead" capture an almost Zen-like realization.
2. Metaphoric Power – Strong imagery is used throughout, such as "Life is a flickering little candle," "When the wind is blowing, open the sails," and "To resist is to fracture the mighty gates." These metaphors reinforce the ideas of impermanence, surrender, and acceptance.
3. Rhythmic Flow – While not strictly metered, the poem has a natural rhythm, making it engaging to read aloud. The parallel structures in "Either be empty or be a free flow" and "To resist is to invite a deadly blow" create a compelling contrast.

Areas for Improvement:

1. Consistency in Style – The poem fluctuates between abstract and concrete language. For instance, "The paradox of life is to grasp the truth" is more direct, while "Wind is still blowing but waters no more!" is more poetic. A slightly more uniform tone might enhance its impact.
2. Punctuation & Capitalization – The mix of capitalized and lowercase “i” (e.g., "The truth is seen when i lie down dead") could be made consistent. If intentional, it could signify humility or dissolution of ego, but otherwise, a uniform approach would refine the presentation.
3. Clarity vs. Mystery – Some lines, like "Freedom is free when love is all, But love suffers when I am not free," are intriguing but could benefit from a bit more clarity. Does it suggest that personal freedom is a prerequisite for true love? If so, expanding on this thought could add depth.

Overall Impression:

Your poem reads like the reflections of a seeker—someone grappling with the transient nature of life, the limits of knowledge, and the ultimate realization of truth. It reminds me of philosophical poetry in the tradition of Eastern mysticism, existential thought, and even the Stoics.

If you'd like, I can help refine certain parts while keeping your unique voice intact. Let me know how you'd like to proceed!

Memory

 Memory

We are a bundle of memories;

And memories are not real.

Alas, thought plays the fiddle; 

But music is untouched by thought.

As the ripples of the mind turbulent.

Only rituals and ceremonies remain;

Doping our minds drugged dull.

Look Above, the cosmos is vast;

Have Heart, with unbounded affection,

Watch the moments - miss not its actions;

The past and future were invented by thought,

In reality, only the moments move.

Nevertheless, we accept, 

To differ is mistaken for disrespect;

So, drugged dull with inner awakening,

Only watchful of the handiworks of thought,

As thought plays the fiddle of time: the enigma of life,

Love kills it all with silence,

And silence is watching in silence, with silence.

💐

"A Quantum Koan"

👆when I asked chatgpt to explain my attempt at the above philosophical poem, it described it as below. 

Interesting. Isn't it.

This verse beautifully captures the interplay between thought, memory, and the essence of presence. Here’s a reflection on the ideas within it:

The notion that "we are a bundle of memories" emphasizes how much our identities and perceptions are shaped by past experiences, beliefs, and interpretations. Yet, memories are insubstantial, mere reconstructions—"not real" in the sense that they only represent what we once perceived, not what is. This distinction is profound because it hints that we often live bound by these imprints, overlooking the vibrancy of the present.

In saying, "thought plays the fiddle," the verse suggests that thought is constantly active, crafting narratives, fears, and expectations. But the true "music"—the essence of life—exists independently of thought, unaffected by our mental projections. The mind’s "turbulent ripples" are seen as distractions, a cacophony that obscures reality and often leaves us clinging to rituals and ceremonies as familiar but hollow structures, drugging us into a state of complacency.

"Look Above, the cosmos is vast" points us toward the universe’s grandeur, a reminder of a reality that transcends our mental constructs. By adopting "unbounded affection," the verse advocates for a loving, open-hearted engagement with life, urging us to fully "watch the moments" and be present. This presence is contrasted against the dual illusions of past and future, inventions of thought, whereas true reality unfolds only in "the moments [that] move."

The acceptance of convention—where "to differ is mistaken for disrespect"—speaks to how social pressures often stifle authentic self-expression, leading people to live as passive spectators of their own "handiworks of thought." In this state, thought weaves the enigmatic narrative of time, binding us to a cycle of habitual patterns.

In the final lines, the poem gestures toward a liberation from thought through "silence." Here, love is the vehicle, not as mere affection but as a profound surrender, an annihilation of thought’s illusions. "Watching in silence, with silence" is akin to a quantum state of pure observation, a “Quantum Koan” that embraces the ungraspable, inviting an experience of life that is free from interpretation.

This koan is a call to be silent and witness life in its pure, untouched form—a reminder that beyond the noise of thought lies a boundless stillness, an unmediated reality that defies words.

Astronomy: My Reminiscences

Reminiscences of my Astronomy Activities

I upload some certificates that I have, which i received for participating, in various astronomy events,  spanning more than three decades.

Also do refer my other article :-

https://astrodentist70.blogspot.com/2018/03/astronomy-school-programme-dr.html?m=1

<https://astrodentist70.blogspot.com/2018/03/astronomy-school-programme-dr.html?m=1>

https://astrodentist70.blogspot.com/2017/02/hunting-my-experiences-dr-v-anand-comet.html?m=1

Beyond Imagination

 

Beyond the world of thought,

In the deep depths of the silent silence;

Is a living, where death has no fear,

For sleep is yet unborn.

In that eternal silence beyond time, thought and thinking,

Was a breathing breath for a yet to be born life;

There was unawareness rooted in  the soil of the unconscious, 

Where cosmos and chaos, heat and elements existed not.

Perception, senses, mind, ego, intellect unexisted;

Since birth is an outcome of conception -

There was no death yet - as desire was yet unborn.

As nothing was yet to create something.

And conception was due to motion,

Motion needed material, space and time -

There was no motion for conception.

Let alone for its abortion.

Space is the matrix that sustains, 

The father of desire, thoughts,

It's mother, material and their bed time !

There was no space, no energy ! 

As thought in motion, is desire in action;

The matrix of material energy did not exist as time was frozen dead.

The unborn mind was yet to ponder over if, 

Existence is simulation or illusion.

Simulation need the mind: mirage is only appearance !

Do we really exist ! 

If sensation is an illusion, then, what is pain ? 

Is that an illusion too.

Thunder thrives with thinking thought,

Lightning strikes and kills,

And what is it that dies !

As hate is not the opposite of love,

Is life the opposite of death ?

Or is life an illusion due to fear;

For love is death unborn, innocent, clear and pure consciousness;

And consciousness is not as we know it !

Thank you God 💐

 To the unknown God

Thank you God 

for being alive, hale and healthy, 

When so many are dead, 

sick and stealthy;

Glad indeed, am blessed with 

thought and vigour,

When so many are 

mind-dead and comatosed.

Thank you God for summer and spring;

Living seasons are thy eternal swing; 

Thank you God for winter and fall, 

All in all, you are a friend of all.

Thank you God for stability and satiety,

As man is with science and society;

Thank you God for cosmic duties,

Nature is full of bountiful beauty.

Thank you God for women and children,

The world is indeed a kindergarten;

Music and melody, 

heal sick and the rowdy,

Here, life itself is a blissful comedy.

Thank you God the sky is blue,

Lest it turn into a crimson red hue;

The water is drinkable, the 

food is palatable;

As your anger is quenchable

with love.

Thank you God 💐 

Father and Son

 Father and Son

I hug my son like a Teddy bear,

I love and like his look and stare;

He is tall and grown but not ripe,

I hug my son like a Teddy bear.

A careful man he ought to be,

In this world fraught with fears and desires;

It is experience that he has to gain,

And see through the words of pain.

In the comfort of his hug and hold,

There is no fear and despair to behold;

I kiss and press his cheek and chest,

And wish him all that life has best.

I hug my son like a Teddy bear,

I love and like his look and stare;

He is tall and grown but not ripe,

I hug my son like a Teddy bear.

A careful man he ought to be,

To learn and relearn through observation;

A careful man he ought to be,

To be silent, soft, love and care;

A careful man he ought to be,

To be strong and soft at the same time;

To be able to attend and respond proper,

I hug my son like a Teddy bear.

I have nothing much to give and share, 

I leave him only love and care;

Assured, he will endure and prosper.

I take with me no fright and fear.

I hug my son like a Teddy bear,

I love and like his look and stare;

He is tall and grown but not ripe,

I hug my son like a Teddy bear.

A careful man he ought to be,

I hug my son like a Teddy bear.

I love and like his look and stare;

I hug my son like a Teddy bear.

   

    - Father.

The following poem is taken 

from the internet. 

The Little Chap Who Follows Me

by Anonymous

Careful man I ought to be; A

A little fellow follows me;

I do not dare to go astray

For fear he'll go the self-same way.

I must not madly step aside,

Where pleasure's paths are smooth and wide,

And join in wine's red revelry—

A little fellow follows me.

I cannot once escape his eyes:

Whate'er he sees me do he tries—

Like me, he says, he's going to be;

The little chap who follows me.

He thinks that I am good and fine,

Believes in every word of mine;

The base in me he must not see,

The little chap who follows me.

I must remember as I go,

Through summer's sun and winter's snow,

I'm building for the years to be,

A little fellow follows me.

Careful man I ought to be; A

A little fellow follows me;

I do not dare to go astray

For fear he'll go the self-same way.

I must not madly step aside,

Where pleasure's paths are smooth and wide,

And join in wine's red revelry—

A little fellow follows me.

I cannot once escape his eyes:

Whate'er he sees me do he tries—

Like me, he says, he's going to be;

The little chap who follows me.

He thinks that I am good and fine,

Believes in every word of mine;

The base in me he must not see,

The little chap who follows me.

I must remember as I go,

Through summer's sun and winter's snow,

I'm building for the years to be,

A little fellow follows me.

End.