If I lived when the Buddha did
I might have snatched a few laurels.
He too gave up home and property
To shine through the dark,
Building a Noah’s ark,
That separated him from the rest.
But I live now, when life itself
Is polluted; even sainthoods are disputed.
My sins are noted, my anger bloated;
Their cause left quite unseen.
If I lived when Shakespeare did
I might have won a few laurels.
He too had lived in self-exile
Not able to bear the life out there.
Target of lord and lady fair, the have and have not:
Searching what the sage found and found not.
My age’s not profound; it sticks to the ground.
Honours bhagats of the chetan kinds,
Far from deep souls and psychic minds
Abounding well in how the self to sell.
Poem by Lakshmi Raj Sharma