The rich culture of Hinduism
Was nothing but a mere memory
Engraved in my mind.
Its rusty doors, unable to open.

Its fluttering ancient wings
Pinned beneath the
Robotic rituals performed
Daily in the morning.











Lost in the wide sea of everyday life,
Unable to fly,
Unable to walk,
Unable to reach,
Unable to touch.

The pages of the Vedas
Blown away by the winds of greed and vanity
Wrinkled, crumpled and walked on
By fancy doctors and famous scientists.

The scriptures have opened their gateways
Begging for entrance
But no one has the courage to walk
Through those vast iron doors.











Lost in what seems like an eternity of darkness,
Unable to breathe,
Unable to flourish,
Unable to love,
Unable to teach.

Who will explore those broken pathways
Ready to be traveled on to what is beyond?
Who will once again revive those who
Have forgotten that they had a gift of humanity?

Those with unyielding courage and valor,
Those with an undying confidence that speaks in every step,
Those with an unbending willingness to change the course of destiny,
Those with a mind, heart and soul of an unbreakable warrior.

Then once and for all
The never ending fountain of Hinduism
Will be replenished and its revealing secrets
Will be cast over the awed world, embraced by its people.

Found in the heart of Man,

















Finally able to fly,











Finally able to teach,



















Finally able to touch,








Finally able to heal.