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Gulam Rasool Santosh

Black Light . . .

Black light of the dead
In the middle of it, I alone of a kind.


It is said
When there was nothing
That, indeed, was everything.
Around there was that eye as well
Where dreams of beginning
And the end, lay asleep
Lost within manifold dreams.
That world of half sleep
Terrain of doubt between yes and no.
Vision that, tired, returns
The eye, as wide awake yet somnolent looking,
Does not cry, nor smile
There was no rival in love
No love rite either
Neither heart nor beloved.
The illusion of Brahma broke
And the eye blinked
That which was not
Started happening all at once
The footfalls of silence became 'alaap'
From the rhythm of breath
Issued the incantation of 'Shakti'
The even 'answer' of ambrosial 'ni'
Kameshwari, Kalavati 'ragini' awoke
The golden warp-and-weft of 'vani' was illuminated
The chain of time tightened moment to moment
That, which was nothing, became visible
The eye sees the light of day
Night is a dark fire, burning
The fire went out and a voice hailed ---
Silence is that feeling of the unheard
Unseen truth :
Call it dream
And you are the emperor of dreams
Call it mirror
You the fair visage
Call it a musical scale
You are the voice
Call it time
You are the moment
Call it the beginning
Then you are the end
You, the 'you' connected with the 'I'.

I go :
You will also return there someday
Where there is nothing
The nothing that is

Translated by Shanti Veer Kaul

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