‘The World is Dreams’ by Tina Mukerji Mehta

Tina Mukherjee Mehta

Poet’s Bio: Tina Mukerji Mehta has been a screenwriter and content writer for nearly a decade,  and has also been a juror in numerous Film Festivals and Screenwriting Competitions, Endas Screenplay Competition and JNU Filmfest. She has worked with auteurs like Ketan Mehta in Indian parallel cinema. She makes documentaries and does photography as well and has pioneered 3D work in India. Her life consists of her rhymes and words, her thoughts and ideas, her D800 and her lens kit and typing away fervently or jotting down thoughts in her notepad. She’s a vegan and animal activist and just became a mother, compassion is her religion and love is her essence. Her first novel is finished and ready for publication.

‘The World is Dreams’ by Tina Mukerji Mehta

The human body is the war ground of Kurukshetra,

Reality lies in the five senses,

I see you, I hear you, I feel you, I smell you and I taste you!

In the world of dreams, there are no differences,

I still see you, I still hear you….you get the jist!

 

The dream world is full of thoughts,

They are like drops from an ink pen, falling blot after blot,

They are like smoke from an incense, here one minute, gone the next.

They are like lightning, you see it for a nano second,

They are like thunder; you hear it, loud and clear, but then just the sound of the rain.

I am vexed!

These thoughts, they are my defence, my escape, my dream.

 

Think about it, think long and hard,

Of the fragments, the notes all jarred,

The way things are designed, the way things feel,

In reality, there are no eyes, no ears, no mouth, no tongue, no touch!

Is this a little too much??

Only electrical stimuli interpreted by our brain,

Do not ridicule this concept, do not think it insane!

 

There is no material reality,

I am asleep, I am dreaming, I do not realize,

That all is just a perception.

These words they create just the sensation, an awareness of stimulation!

Now I wake up from this dream,

I seriously think I have entered another one,

The so-called real life, I hear it scream!

 

Now this, it seems as true as my dream world,

How am I to know the difference?

My reality is blurred, it swirls and twirls.

This world is nothing but a habit,

Our belief, our dogmas, our prejudice.

A futile edifice, a worthless emphasis, an abject sedative

Of Nothingness!!!

 

The brain is not the Perceiver or the Perceived!

Who am I?

What is this world?

Who are you?

Who thinks these thoughts?

Who is this ME?

Who is writing these words?

To what avail?

 

I am just a ghost in the machine,

An echo of an echo of an echo,

Reverberating through time and space!

Who is this seer?

Who contemplates this Universe to be unreal?

Who has all these thoughts in the head?

Only questions and never an answer!!!

 

Yoni shariram- the form appears from the vagina of Gaia,

Of Dharitri, of Zemia, of Erde, of Terre…

She is the mother, the sanctum sanctorum of creation.

This human body is the cause of such conflict,

There is segregation, separation and destruction,

In her very womb, we have been tricked by addicts of violence.

 

For a split second during meditation,

Comes the realization-

It is the Atman,

Matter has no self governing existence,

All things perceived, interpreted and seen,

Is a dream within a dream.

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