What is That

What’s that,

That unites me,

With ye and ye with me?               

Without any media,

Without any cause.

What’s that,

That shows me your mien.

And

Perhaps, you too perceive me,

As if I was sitting in your front.

What’s that,

That causes mother’s realization,

About the hunger of her child,

That fills her breasts with nectar

And rears up Einstein and Budhha?

 

What’s that,

That gives me happiness in your presence,

Despite severed ties and interests, eons ago?

What’s that,

Distance losses relevance,

And time dissolves?

Has anyone perceived Time

Sitting by beloved?

Is that a perception?

Should I call that Love?

Name it, in whatever way you can,

As it makes no difference.

Contrary, it is not subject to naming,

Above all names.

That makes you common not specific.

That makes you simple not special.

That makes you younger, not old.

That liberates you from

The onus of Understanding.

And permits you to loss, without the

Thought of getting back.

That enhances the weight of martyr

In front of death and

Fill his heart with bliss and joy.

Because it’s not important,

What’s that.

Rather its presence is important.

Because that is that,

That makes us Human beings.

Its absence is absence of Humanity

And absence of Life.

Because it enlivens. 

I don’t want to know what’s that.

Earlier, I’d that inquisition but

Now I don’t want to know that.

But it is but final or fact.

It saves man from being a machine

And saves from being a monster. 

Thank you.

This is a translated poem from original Hindi.  The poem was originally written by one of my online friends named Arkjesh who blogs Anaupacharik in Hindi.   The original Hindi poem can be found here.