coconut tree in the dark

i live under the umbrella of a coconut tree in the dark night above i see understated refined beauty a shot i tried to take for you but the camera did not see what my eyes and my heart did see - oh that unknown beauty so my love come you too see this spectacle in udupi but you must in the dark stand still and also quiet be late in the night when everything indeed does quiet be then you touch that which is dark, rich and velvety the night and its coconut tree ~ vani murarka

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The Vocal Tribe of Trees

When I paint or draw I mostly just let my hand move any which way it wishes to go. It is a discovery for me to see what is emerging. That is what happened with this painting too.

Once this painting was done, it seemed to me as if the tree, as a representative of the World-Wide Tribe of Trees is calling out and saying, "Hear me too! Hear me too!"

Trees are very very vocal. Only, their language is the language of silence.

Sitting quietly beside trees, one can't miss their banter. Listening to them intently and softly with your eyes, is so so ... There. There is no word for it. :-)

I love listening to trees. It nourishes my soul.

Listening to the language of trees takes me to a different world. A world that is also very real and exists everywhere; outside me and inside me. A world which in its silence, holds profound comfort and wisdom.

Listen, listen, O World. Listen to The Trees!

~ vani murarka

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a gift to myself

There is a beautiful green meadow. Lush green rolling hills.

A mountain stream is gurgling by. Crystal clear water. Interspersed here and there are stones on which the water rises and falls and makes beautiful music. The water is so lovingly sharp to touch and elixir to the throat.

I am dancing, roaming on those hills, wearing a beautiful, very generously frilly white dress with large purple flowers.

My arms are spread out, head raised. I fill my lungs and my being with the air that is alive. The breeze caresses my cheek, then runs away, like a rabbit. Then it gets naughty. Entering my dress from underneath, it fluffs up my dress and tickles my legs. I laugh out loud and push my dress down and then dance around.

There, near the stream are soft yellow flowers. I sit beside them and gaze for long at the texture of their petals, caressing them with my eyes. The wind is playing music too. The clouds embrace the top of the hills.

I lie on my back and look at the blue ceiling above. Infinite in expanse. Infinite in depth. Two small bird friends fly by chattering, high up above.

My body is on the grass, my heart is in the sky and I am in every fiber of the hills, every blade of grass, the earth, the water, the stones, the flowers, the clouds, the birds, the air, the infinite expanse - dancing and invisible.

~ vani murarka

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to be me

i wish to be a butterfly.

i wish to ride the bare back horse
on vast and open greens -
wind blowing in my hair.

i wish the crackling fire beside,
below night sky -
a distant drum in the air.

the shimmering water of the stream
the silent singing night
the shadows of the trees alive
now that the trees sleep tight

i wish to touch.
yes the true touch.
hesitant, but
not very much.

the mud, the earth,
the bark, the skin,
the ripples, and the glow.
Her surface varied such!

the touch that tells
of inside spells -
a song hidden
under the skin.

i wish to smell
Her inside smell -
where i do find
that i do dwell.

to tribal be
to animal be
in earth rejoice -
to simply be.

i wish ...

~ vani murarka

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song of evening solitude

under the flame of the forest
silent and empty i wait.

unfathomed hues
and deepest blues
do touch the sky
and glide on by.

and i just listen
to them glisten.

my heart they strum
no beat no drum
no song no hum
just simply mum.

i dont touch them
they touch not me.
i am in glee
with my friend tree.

~ vani murarka

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Love is like Water

This blog "vani expressions" has moved to my website manaskriti.com. Here is the link for the new location: http://manaskriti.com/vani-expressions/ . Please visit there for the latest posts.

Love is like water.

Water might be cascading down like a waterfall, or it might be in the form of robust waves of the ocean. It might be flowing as a gently gurgling stream. It may be calm and placid in a lake or swimming pool. Water may be flowing under the ground. You may get just a hint of it, as dew drops on the morning grass.

When Love is heady, passionate, it is like the waves of the ocean. The over-flowing Love of a mother, where she herself is overwhelmed by the intensity and force of Love that she feels - it is like water is falling down rapidly from the mountains. When it is the quiet implicit Love of a father or a reticent mate or even of someone close who may seem unloving, it is like water flowing underground. The Love of a friend, the lighthearted laughter and companionship it brings, feels like dew drops on the morning grass. The calm, still, placid water in a lake or swimming pool feels like the calm Love of a saint for all.

The water in all cases is the same. The Love in all cases is the same.


Water takes on the color of its receptacle. In a red bowl it looks like red water. It feels romantic. In a blue bowl, water looks blue. It feels like the Love of a father, mother, mentor or guide. In a green bowl, water looks green. It feels like the Loving companionship of a friend.

But the water is neither red, nor blue, nor green. It is the same water.

The Love in a romantic relationship, amongst friends, between a teacher and a student, between a parent and child - is not different. It is simply Love. There are no different kinds of Love.

The receptacles (the relationships) are different.

What gives comfort when you look at it is the water, not the receptacle.

~ vani murarka

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