Volcano-agonies of the seekers

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My Lord,
I have so many complaints against You!
Are You kind enough,
Are You brave enough
To listen to my complaints?

"My child,
I am neither kind nor brave,
But I am wise."

My Lord,
What do You mean?

"I shall tell you what I mean later on.
In the meantime,
Let me hear all your complaints
Against Me."


My Lord,
Why have You given me
A mind thick with darkness-nights?


My Lord Beloved,
Why do You allow
The unfortunate memories
Of my past
To invade and torture me
So ruthlessly?


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
Can You not see
That my days and nights
Are made of insufferable afflictions?


My Lord,
This world of Yours does not want me.
It does not even need me.
Yet not a single day passes by
When You do not ask me
To love and serve this world.
My Lord, tell me,
Why do You do this to me?


My Lord Beloved,
Over the years I have been telling You
That this world is a bed of thorns.
But You go on telling me
That this world is a bed of roses.
I am the sufferer!
To me, You are nothing but a Lecturer!


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
Do You think that Your Ears
Are too precious to listen
To the prayers of my innocent heart?


My Lord,
What can I expect from You,
Since You literally do not want to feel
The agonies of my heart?


My Lord Beloved,
Why do I have to convince my mind
Unnecessarily and foolishly
That without You,
My life will be compelled
To flicker feebly?


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
Because I pray to You the whole night
To please You,
Sleep is displeased with me
And it is jealous of You.
Sleep has deserted me for good.
You have also deserted me.
Alas, where do I stand?
Alone, helpless, worthless and useless!


My Lord,
Alas, my mind has taught me
Only two mantras:
"What shall I do?
Where shall I go?"
I am sure You have taught
These two mantras
To my mind!


My Lord Beloved,
You have nothing better to do
Than subject me to the pain
Of Your Absence.


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
Are You blind
That I have to give You sight to see
That I am standing in front of You
In streaming tears?


My Lord,
I sing Your Victory-Songs
At the top of my voice.
I can clearly see
That You have kept
Your Ears completely sealed.


My Lord Beloved,
There was a time
When I thought
You belonged to me
And I belonged to You.
Now I am fully convinced
That You and I
Are two perfect strangers,
And we belong to two totally
Different worlds.


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
Every day early in the morning
You send someone to lecture me.
How is it that that person
Does not tell You
That my aspiring limbs
Are all shattered
And that I do not have even an iota
Of love for You?


My Lord,
Can You not see
That my life is doomed
To watching and waiting?


My Lord Beloved,
It seems that Your inner plane
And outer car
Will never start functioning.


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
Sometimes I burst into roaring laughter
When I call You
"My Lord of unconditional Compassion."


My Lord,
You have made me mad
With the desire to see You.
I am doing my duty extremely well.
But do You believe in fulfilling Your Duty?
How is it that, even for a fleeting second,
You do not come and stand before me?
How long will You enjoy
Your Compassion-famine-Life?


My Lord Beloved,
I have seen the world.
I have also seen its ways —
Deception from the beginning
To the end.


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
Why do You have to hide
Your illumination
From this world?


My Lord,
I cry for Your Compassion.
You enjoy watching
Your Compassion snoring.


My Lord Beloved,
I cry for Your Protection.
You prove to me
That Your Heart-Dictionary
Does not house the word


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
I cry to You
To save my reputation.
You, as usual,
Turn Your deaf Ear
To me.


My Lord Beloved,
My prayers and meditations
Are so disappointed in You
That they tell me
They are at a perfect loss.


My Lord,
Every day I send my pure heart
In search of You.
With such eagerness
My heart runs here and there
To catch a glimpse of You
And prostrate before You
With such humble petition.
Every day it comes back to me
With utterly fruitless failure-pangs.


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
I wanted to be the slave
Of Your Heart.
Perhaps it was presumptuous
On my part.
I changed my mind.

I wanted to be the slave
Of Your Eye.
Perhaps that too was presumptuous
On my part.

I wanted to be the slave
Of Your Feet.
Alas, Your lack of response
Clearly showed me
That it was nothing but audacity
On my part.

Now I want to be the slave
Of the dust of Your Feet.
Even the dust of Your Feet
Does not care for the pangs
Of my heart!

My life is dancing inside
My humiliation-pride-room.


My Lord,
If it is too difficult to save my life
In my own way,
At least save me and my life
In Your own Way,
Instead of not saving me at all!


My Lord Beloved,
Just because I call You my own,
Nobody wants me to be their own.
Not even my mind is willing
To accept me as its own.
They have all forsaken me.


My Lord Beloved Supreme,
The fire of my ceaseless longing for You
Has done only one thing:
Instead of illumining my heart,
It has burned my heart to ashes!
Who can ever be a greater fool
Than I am?


My Lord,
My mind is permanently in a rage
That I spend all my time
Foolishly on You.
I could have spent my time,
According to my mind,
More wisely and fruitfully.


My Lord Beloved,
I thought You gave me the path
Of sweet, illumining
And fulfilling devotion.
But now I see
That the path You have given me
Is the path of birthless
And deathless frustration.


"My child,
Are you not tired
Of your marathon-complaints?"

My Lord, why?
Why should I be?
If You can enjoy
Your infinite Peace and Bliss
All by Yourself
While torturing me,
My heart,
And even my breath,
Why should I remain silent?

But, my Lord, if You are tired,
Then I can show You
My unsolicited compassion.
And to-morrow,
At our mutual leisure time,
I can drive my complaint-train
And give You
A longer than the longest ride!

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