Saturday, 22 August 2015

Krishna in Him

Sometimes, when I look at him,
Even though I am not great at eye contact,
I See Krishna in Him.

Sometimes, in those jet black eyes,
Sometimes, behind his dimpled,
naughty smile,
When he locks his eyes with mine,
I see Krishna in Him.

Sometimes, when his lips part
And i can hear the soft sound of his breathing,
Somewhere, I think I hear, too
The faint, fragrant echoes of a flute.
His voice, his notes find
A way inside my head-
I hear Krishna in Him.

I see Krishna in Him
When he dismisses everything-
The world, pain, love, our bond-
everything as illusory.
Because Krishna said to Arjun
Things he unknowingly says to me...
I see Krishna in Him.

While he loves everybody with similar intensity, I,
I egoistically believe
I am his favourite, though
I know it can't possibly be so,
He has so many people to love,
to choose from.
I see Krishna in Him.

Playing pranks, pulling my leg
making faces, hurting me-
He has liberties, all of them
Perhaps, he knows that, too.
I am his property, just as I belong
Ultimately to the blue-bodied god;
I see Krishna in Him.

When he hugs me hard, crushing me at times
And plants a sweet little kiss on my cheeks, on request,
I guess, I can say, I know
That is exactly how divinity is spelled.
I see Krishna in Him.

He is five-
and sometimes, in that little child,
My god tries to come alive.

Sometimes, when i look just right,
I see
Krishna in Him.