The Essential Taj

Gales of Wind howling, clashing with mounds of rough rock a formidable resistance bisecting and chaffing the mighty waves an eerie silence coupling its destruction. An irrevocable force of nature, a change-maker. The Wind is unparalleled in its lack of mercy Relentless in its path, possessing the waves to do its bidding. The Wind inquires in a moment of curiosity to the hapless stones, Why is it that you do not resist my force. The Stone responds, reverently, the supremacy of the wind in enabling its transformation. It is you who synchronizes, aligns me, with Nature. Smoothing my lofty edges to serve till I perish as a grain of Sand. Nature is unyielding in death, Yet even as a grain of Sand I carry impressions that are rewritten because of you. And in those footprints is preserved the transience of Time, eternally the shiftiness of the birth and death of spirit. - of mindlessness and ceaseless adaptation 

Reshaping, refining and redefining a shapeless form drifting far and wide Aimless and anonymous. A forbidden pact, the meeting of unknowns the union from transformation traversing the length and breadth of a fathomless ocean. Enslaved in a fraction of a second In a storm of an adventure a whirlwind ride Paralyzed by intensity driven by desire, speechless enthralled in that company. The formless finds its Creator A smooth, pearly prison for its inception. Enticed by its security, seduced by its simplicity. A period of sculpting ensues endless hours of beauty lustful by design New delights, new destruction. Synthesis of an ethereal muse A performance primed to please A form to fit fantasies A form to transform the material world the totality of perfection. Subsequent to the brainchild of peerless brilliance and beauty. The enclosure, snaps shut to its child, its sculpted creation. Sealed shut forever to its labor of love. Memoirs of its creator...

Burnt embers In the sullen depth of darkness impregnated with silence you walk. You live and you breathe. Your mind weaves a tale  one of delight speckled with sorrow. You are content in your dream state. You don't question its authenticity.  Because, in this, lie all your desires, beliefs, do's and dont's.  All your musings all your comforts. Where is there room for doubt? You walk with your eyes closed. Ignoring the incessant protests of your other senses. Your instinct.  A slow rhythmic lullaby..numbing all else. How do you end this ? More importantly, do you want to end this? A song pierces through the lull.  The sound unbidden and uninvited. A siren in the wee corners of your unconscious mind.  A knight or an assassin?  Your spirit entrenched in monotony, The shroud slowly parts and lifts off your skull, Bitten, stung by the fangs of truth. The truth about yourself and others ens...