Slowly we drift into shadows
Slowly we drift into shadows

Slowly we drift into shadows
As twilight grows dun
Selves of gray
Disappear in the dark

Our bodies buried
Under their own
Subliminal weight
Slide into the murk
In the pure abyss of night

With closed eyes
Shorn of thought
Each object is seen
In entirety

A little lamp still
Burns unseen
Within the quiet
Center of things

Pariksith Singh

Pariksith Singh is, first of all, a poet and a philosopher, though not of any academic mould. He has evolved, and is still evolving, his own philosophy of life and work which he has been articulating in terms of his very personalized poetry and equally personalized medical practice.

Whether healing a patient, running a business or writing a poem, Pariksith Singh is always looking for that “perfect expression of the spirit in matter” – and this is P. Singh’s unique and consistent signature in all his works.

P. Singh’s literature is the articulation of this “inner quest” for the spirit’s perfection in matter, and therefore an expression of the eternal struggle of form (matter) to attain the supreme fluidity of content (spirit) and content to attain the perfect expression in form.

Ouevre

The Future of Indian Poetry

Prose by Pariksith Singh

Indian poetry in English is flat. There is no depth. This was my impression when I read some anthologies edited by Pritish Nandy few decades ago. This remains my impression...
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The Paradigm of Quantum Physics

Prose by Pariksith Singh

One of the great achievements of modern science in the last century is Quantum Physics. While confusing to many, counter-intuitive and disruptive of the traditional Newtonian world-views, it has, nonetheless,...
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Sri Aurobindo, the Challenge of a Poet

Prose by Pariksith Singh

Of all the poets over the last few centuries, Sri Aurobindo presents the most unique challenge to the reader. He is not difficult with contorted meanings like Celan or surrealist...
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Anthology

उठूँ तुझे छूने को

Poetry by Omendra Ratnu

उठूँ तुझे छूने को, लालायित मन से आऊँ , पा के तुझे प्रगाढ़ विश्राम में ,निश्चिंत ! क्या करूं अतिक्रमण ,ठिठक के रह जाऊं , करवट से तेरी उठी हलचल...
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Still children seeking their way home

Poetry by Bettina

We are grown people we claim. To prove it our lips form a tight line, our faces show wrinkles which remind us of years of living, striving, surviving, crying after...
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Ink

Poetry by Simran

Speak, sing, write, act Till your voice can no more And your face can’t twitch a muscle And your hand cramps and becomes sore With blisters and splotches of ink...
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