All my life I have been ending ignorance — reading, thinking, writing, seeking. Now the loose ends are nearly tied. Come July 16, my 62nd birthday, it will be summa iru: not a thing I choose, but what happens when the false self, strung together from my relationships, finally dissolves. The more I carve out this “Me Time,” the more I begin to disappear. Nothing defines me; nothing tells me who I am. And so the old question arises almost naturally — “Who am I?” — a question one can sit with, alone, and stand a very good chance of answering.
Category: Karma / Destiny
My Latest Book Available Now on Amazon — The Mind Itself Is a Digression: Poems, Reflections, and Dialogues of a Restless Seeker
Kindle eBook In India: https://www.amazon.in/dp/B0H4X9NFMB In USA: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H4X9NFMB Paperback In USA: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H58FG4VK The mind itself is a digression — or … More
The Uncertainty Of It All, Heisenberg You Were Right
As I walked out one evening,Walking down Urdu Gulli(I know friends are already suspectingSince I was in 9th classThat I … More
The Lover of Che and Marx
Samudrala Avinash Rahul Vamshi KrishnaWhat a long name. Does not sound at allLike the name of someoneWho belongs to the … More
Summa Iru — The Pristine Spiritual Path
A friend messaged me, “I have a long way to go”, referring to her ongoing spiritual journey. I replied: How … More
God’s Fault
“One cannot realize God if one has even the least trace of desire. A thread cannot pass through the eye … More
“Is it perfume from a dress / That makes me so digress?”
No, Eliot, it is not the perfumeFrom a dress or otherwiseThat makes me digress. I digressBecause the mind itself is … More
My Latest Writings
“There is only as much distance between God and us as there is between clay and pot.” “There is only … More
Nee illu Ekkado Telusa – “నీ ఇల్లు ఎక్కడో తెలుసా” || Telugu Folk Song
“నీ ఇల్లు ఎక్కడో తెలుసా?” — Do you know where your true home is? This powerful Telugu folk song cuts through life’s illusions with fearless honesty, addressing the restless human mind directly. You celebrate your house, your family, your wealth — but your real final home, the song reminds us, lies at the cremation ground. You arrived in this world with nothing, and you will leave with nothing.
The song urges the mind not to cling to spouse, children, or siblings — for on the day you depart, even your closest loved ones will hesitate to come near. It questions the endless wrestling over property and possessions, calling them asthi ramu — unstable, impermanent. Fame and status fare no better: “How significant are you in this vast universe? How far does your name really reach?”
Even the body you call your own will one day abandon you. Belonging to the Telugu Vairagya tradition of philosophical folk poetry — echoing saints like Vemana and Kabir — this song does not preach despair. It preaches awakening. Surrender to the eternal, unseen divine, it says, for in a life of total impermanence, that alone is real.
“You Cannot Save a World You’re Still Trapped In” — Nisargadatta Maharaj on Desire, Help, and Liberation
What does it truly mean to help the world? In this piercing dialogue from I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj dismantles our noblest intentions — revealing that the urge to save others is itself rooted in the same ignorance that creates suffering. Desire builds worlds; worlds breed pain; and the one who wishes to help is often the one most in need of waking up. From the nature of creation to the limits of avatars and saviours, Maharaj offers something more radical than solutions: a mirror. “Get out of the picture,” he says, “and see whether there is anything left to save.”