The People’s Red Book Poem by Raj Arumugam

see what’s in mind
bundled in the thoughts
and far and deep within;
see, one says one is of a particular group
or particular region;
hear one say “I am this; ”
or “I am that; ”
and some cling to a religion or philosophy
and so make a Self;
they identify themselves:
“I am of this religion; ”
Or
“I am of this persuasion; ”
Or
“I am of this faith; ”
see and hear the cacophony of human discord:
“I am of this country; ”
“I am of this ancient lineage; ”
“This is my religion; ”
“This is my faith; ”
“I am this…I am that…”

O we love our badges, our titles
and decorations the Great Leader
pins on us, don’t we?
And we love all the fancy ribbons and rewards
the Politburo promises, don’t we?
We just live by our Red Book;
each group with its own Divine Red Book

“Come on, little children
gather round Daddy and Mommy;
we have sweets
and candy for all of thee”

But can one plunge deep and see
and dropp one’s conditioning?
And what happens when one does that?
And can one dropp one’s history
and beliefs and mental formations and faith
and dependence and identity?
What happens?

Perhaps only then one sees with clarity