Eye-Camera

Oh! What a camera this Man has made
Of innumerable pixels
Thousand GBs storage
& a warranty of lifetime!

Oh! What do I call this Man of grace?
Just a second we need to edit
The audios & videos we store,
& Insert millions of emotions!

And it works in every mode
With so many shades n colours
& Lights dim or night
The pictures it casts are fabulous.

And lo! So minute exposure it needs!
Of fraction of second may be
Till we see,
The masterpiece He made for us.

What should I call it now?
May be the eye-camera?
Or the I-camera?
Or My-camera?
Just remembered,
Even a penniless man has it!

Oh! Now i am jealous of this Man.
It takes years to produce a piece
& he made the masterpieces in 7 days?
Oh! How could He???

Oh! What colours He used in the canvas of space?
We even cant copy it's image
& get oscars n nobels,
& people call us great scientists n artists? Huh!

Shouldnt we be ashamed of us now
To destroy the beauty
Which we see
But couldnt reproduce
In past, present &
May be in future too.......

Why?

In this beautiful Self sky
The cloud thoughts remain, why?
I asked my Lord.

If I am to only be
Why feel pain, joy in glee?

If You are the place to go
Why You create this ego?

If I am only here
How others bring me fear?

If others are also me
Why cant I really see?

My Lord answered
Because u dont want to see
What really are in ye.

When u'll wish so without fear
Only this thought remaining clear

When I be your only dear
I shall come to your near.

Till then,
Have patience
With My remembrance,
Love all
Even if u fall,

Till I come for u
N' u go with me
To the abode of
Peace, joy n' non-duality.......

Question

As alms, the man his cows gave
When his son asked in voice grave,
"Why the cows you're giving are old,
The best to give are in stories told?"

The next part we all know
& That's how the myth to go.
The kid was sent to Lord of Death
To whom he asked, "At last breath
What dies?"
The Lord of Death was taken aback
& Failed to give an answer back
& Thus goes the story of heroic child
Nachiketa's questions remain alive.

The most innocent questions asked
Unveils all that stand masked.

I was happy till I learnt
The biggest storm, the hardest word- "WHY".

That day on my friends were foes
& That's how my story goes
Parents, teachers went away
& All what really I would say
Was, "Thank God"
For showing me they were not my Lord.

When I asked my Master the same
Silence was all that remained
Whom I revered once so much
By a word was washed away.
All I did say was "Thank God"
For showing me he was not my Lord.

Since when I started to ask WHY
Blizzards & tempests swayed my life
The funny part is:
For whomsoever would I ask This "why"
Always stood against me, not by!

May be they wanted to have peace
Like I had before asking these
Before the storm of "why" arose
While I slept, till I rose.

Then I met this man of grace
For whom I was to be amazed.
Once had lived this life of "why"
First time someone stood me by.

He knew
How to stop this tempest of why
With another question "Who am I?"
So today I ask
"Oh my beloved God,
Art Thou my true Lord"?