In Mischief He Made Man's Mind Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

A bubble born maketh for no event,
Like that bubble in ocean be this life—
Space and time's randomly rendered moment
And of myriad possibilities rife,
If only I can see in waves the sea,
See common clay, in all pots and potter,
See lotus not else than muddy water,
Only thence reality do I see.

Let what happens be, not is good nor bad,
It's cleaving that creates likes and dislikes,
Notso in world's made joyous, nor yet sad,
It's clinging that a note dissonant strikes.
But man cannot but cleave and feel inclined,
God played a game when in mischief made mind.
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Sonnets | 04.12.06 |