Mud and baths.

One sound wave to awake
the buried layers of memory
Memories that burn, tickle, soothe...
Gently does it probe and question
the essence of myself

Who was I? Who am I?
Thoughts full of superiority
because we lived in 'pigeonholes'
surrounded by plastic and
fed a 'modern' education,

Religion? Ha! No sir, not me
I'm a 21st century woman..
Full of scorn for 'hindu rituals'
and the nasal sounding, bhajan clapping
'ignorant' white haired ancients of our families....

Drops of pleasure trickled from
viewing on a big screen, the life of another...
vying for, acquiring transient objects...
from branches of those relationships
destined to flow different streams

But now, drowning in oceans of pleasure
from a simple clap during kirtan
from the very same 'rituals' ...
Smell of incense, ghee lamps and flowers
sacred hymns that stir a whirlpool of
satisfaction and pleasure that the self drowns in...

Who was I? A soul wallowing and enjoying in ignorance the muddy marshes of the world

Who am I? A really grimy muddy soul trying to take a shower.

....all because you placed the bhakti bija in me, my dear gurumaharaj...

oḿ ajñāna-timirāndhasya

jñānāñjana-śalākayā
cakṣur unmīlitaḿ yena
tasmai śrī-gurave namaḥ

"I was born in the darkest ignorance, and my spiritual master opened my eyes with the torch of knowledge. I offer my respectful obeisances unto him"
Please get well soon.... please....