Om Shanti Shaanti Om

March 30, 2008
By Raqshanda Khan, Dubai, ZZ

Om Shanti Shaanti Om,
Chanted the priest,
In his heart, mind and soul.

I could feel his language,
His language of peace.
I could feel his sixth sense,
Whispering to him in his calm mind,
Approaching to him like a slow breeze,
From the Eastern skies.

His mind full of peace and tranquility,
His heart fresh and pure,
His eyes were the eyes of wisdom,
I could feel his power of speech,
In a comforting way,
Away from all the agonizing torments
Of this World.

I could feel his soul reaching out to my puzzled thoughts,
Till the land got swept off my feet,
And I was in yet another labyrinth,
Of Curiosity.

Om Shaanti Shaanti Om,
His pure voice still kept whirling in my mind,
Like waves from the seventh sky.

I walked through the lush maze,
Finding and loosing,
Talking and listening,
For besides me was walking,
My Soul.

I recalled the priests' words again,
"Alongside you,
Will be your Soul,
Guiding you through the most
Dense forests of your
I give you my word,
You'll never be left alone


Fell the fruit on to the platform,
From the evergreen Peepul Tree.

I had just been in nothing,
But a short journey,
Yet an overwhelming trance,
Along with my Soul,
Flying over the lustrous, glinting

None were there,
The disciples, the priest,
Or The Sun.

None but the tiny specks and droplets
Of the Light.

“Fly, my child, Fly!
Away from this
Threatening era,
Till you discover Peace
In your heart and Soul."

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