What is spirituality?

First part of the discussion between two old friends.

So the other day, I met with a lady friend of mine. It has been a couple of years since we sniffed the aroma of a good coffee shop together. And as far as I can recall, our sniffing noses were often accompanied with a lot of chit chat or as they say- discussions!

Only this time it was different.

She texted me yesterday, “We need to meet. Asap. Discussion”.
“Hey! whatever happened to pleasantries after 3 years?”, I said. No response.
“Fine. Meet me tomorrow at 6 after sunset. You know where!”, I messaged her again.

A discussion before coffee was unusual for her but who cares, my dog nose was awakened already. We met at our usual coffee shop at the galleria and it began.

She (nervously): How have you been? You look good. I am too. Thanks.

Me (relaxed): Whoa! Are you alright? What the heck did you sniff ol’ lady? Am sure coffee is not the answer!

She (mildly agitated): Ha Ha, not funny. There is a lot going in my life right now. Well, more like my mind. but…anyway, are you still into that spiritual stuff?

Me (hesitatingly): yeah… you know once you go spiritual, ain’t no way back to actual (with a smirk).

She (agitated): Shut up! I have been feeling weird lately and am not sure whether I am the spider that spun this web and is stuck in it.

Me (blank expression): You always hated spiders. What’s gotten into you? Alright! Enough of mystery and jokes. Tell me, what it is?

She (dropping the guards off): I experienced a few nasty events a few months back. You know bad breakup, workplace politics, cash crunch, just the regular ones!

Me (focussed): Yeah. Go on…

She (excited): So I started reading self help books, motivation and life coach. Eventually I slipped into this new age spirituality. You know, angels, tarot, energy work et cetera.

Me (with a smile): That’s unexpected of you. The most cynical girl I have met so far.

She (with a laugh): I know right! But things change man. We change too.

Me: Yeah, they definitely do. So where is the spiders web here, I still can’t see it?

She (thoughtfully): We will come to that later. I just wanted to pick up this meeting from where we left. You remember?

Me (sadly): How can I forget? I was spinning the web myself and trying to show you the beautiful network. But… nevertheless. I am glad that we met today. I am surprised to see you talking the words that you never understood when they came from my mouth. It is a happy surprise!

She (smiling): I guess, your spider’s web pulled me atlast. And now I am trying to make sense of it myself.

Me (relaxed): So where shall we begin milady?

She: What is spirituality? What is this duality, the dilemma, the tug of war between those spiritual and those who-are-still-asleep?

I took a deep breath, sniffed my, now cold, coffee and said,

“We live in a strange world, my friend. Stranger than science can ever explain and deeper than our wits can ever dig. Spirit is the link between that which is visible and one that we believe is out there. Psychology will call the belief of a reality out there as subjective while the reality that you and I, we all can see right now is objective. 
But people like you and me know otherwise. There is a link between our subjective and objective realities. A bridge that connects the physical with metaphysical. A path that is an enigma and it is called spirituality.”

She (contemplatively): That is the most sane definition of the word I have heard so far.

Me (engrossed): I believe that a truly spiritual person is also materialistically awakened. Because the spiritual and material worlds are mere shadows of each other. Two sides of the same coin, really!

She (hesitatingly): But isn’t spirituality all about renunciation and god?

Me (smiling): I won’t say all. A part of it does indeed require practicing renunciation and understanding our relationship with god but being spiritual is more than that.

She (excited): I can sense we are going to need more than just one cup of coffee today.

I ordered some french fries and another round of this cocoa elixir.

To be continued…

Originally published at https://medium.com/@kartikeya.awasthi75 on August 26, 2020.

Like this like that

Each morning I wake up to your thought
A mirage that I will hear your voice,
But just as I begin to enjoy this sweet lie,
The music of reality awakens my senses,
Each morning I wake up with this routine,
Like a twisted sense of humour that the grim reaper carries, I am waiting to feel alive…

Why are you not here? When will you be here?
These are the questions that I often prepare my first coffee with,
The ingredients to my breakfast remain an eerie silence reverberating between my porch and the backyard,
I like listening to this sad song in my shower,
Like a depressingly deranged musician that I have become, I am waiting for my masterpiece still…

I often pick my pen and scribble in the book of memories,
All those words left unsaid and all those words you didn’t hear,
All those sentences that drowned in my dry eyes and all those dreams that you and I shared,
You can read them in my writings now
They often ask me, if you ever cared?
Like a sad lonesome moon mad that I have become, I like to believe that you did…

If we ever cross our ways again, and I hope we do not, But I wish we did, and I don’t want us to, But I often dream we meet,
I want to stay forever in this melancholy,
It defines my purpose and my ambitions,
Like an enraged bull, this is what I came here for and this is what I exchanged my death with…

What do i do?

It feels like I have left so much behind
Now that I look back I can’t see anything to remember
My memory is getting weaker by the day
All the good times that I had are becoming dull in my mind
Is it my fault that I let everything go?
Or is it my fault that I didn’t save anything for myself?
I don’t know the answer but who says am looking for it
Maybe it is a wrong question!

How awesome would it have been if you were by my side still?
I would just call your name or ring that bell 
But nothing seems to stick with me for long
Maybe I’m damned and cursed for long?
What shall I do now? What shall I do?
Is there anything to bring you back that I can do?

Why wouldn’t you listen to me, I was crying for help
I was tearing my vocal chords away and flushing my eyes dry for you
But you, you insolent bitch went deaf
But I still love you
And hate you in my own twisted way
For a million times I would kill you and a billion times resurrect my love for you
Anyway it is over, let’s not repent
Leave all behind and bathe in the new wind

Don’t worry about me, I am fine
Just give me a couple of drinks and a puff or two and I will be fine, maybe
I am no longer looking for love for it is a mirage
I am looking for meaning of all that is
Of all that has been and of all that will be…

The Abyss

Would you float with me in this endless abyss ?

Listening to this deafening song of the silence,
Impervious to any senses given to us by god,
Leaving behind the world of his creation,

Would you be with me in this hell of my own making?

I ask for no more than your presence,
For I have been here before the clocks were made,
Immortality is my curse and solitude is my exile,

Would you be an angel for the demon that I am?

I scream and shriek but he doesn’t listen to my voice,
But your mere glance on my morbid face
Is enough for my sulking heart,
Please come, o’ angel, this hell torments me,

A prized slave or,

Would you rather be an outlaw defying the constitution of God?

There is no light here or any eyes to glare,
You can be who you are, or find who are you,
Are you not tired of the twisted meaning he has given to love?

Would you be my companion seeking life in this journey beyond death?

I am Lucifer, the light bearer, and sinner of sins,
But I am also the owner of light dying within your self,
I can rekindle your passions, your desires and  will to live,

But are you ready to first die with me or

Would you rather live a life of magnificent artifice?

Demon Covid-19 aka Coronavirus

Why aren’t we talking about Covid-19’s psychological impact?

Earth is at war. The world is in peril. Humans are crying.

This demon took over the world in the first quarter of the year 2020. Since then it has not only disrupted our health and wealth but has completely changed life as we knew it. Constant contemplation about what’s coming next has left permanent lines on each of our foreheads.

I often spend my evenings looking anxiously at the blue skies. I am still waiting for the sight of angels descending upon Earth…

It is May end and so far we have not yet found any weapon to fight this treacherous and cunning villain to protect humanity. All powerful kingdoms on Earth have succumbed to its tyranny but common man is still fighting to keep his hopes up. The only way we have found to protect ourselves from this demon is quarantine. Staying at home and physical distancing has become the new way of life. Handshakes, hugs and high fives have become a thing of the past. But it hasn’t entirely been as easy as it sounds.

For over two months we have been keeping ourselves in lockdown. We have measured every inch of our four walls and breathed every corner of our homes. We willingly gave away the freedom we gained from British in return for health. It is a strong urge, trust me, to get back our fundamental right to freedom. But we have stopped going out, visiting our friends or loved ones. Giving up the freedom to roam on our democratic roads is tough but necessary. Giving up your freedom physically is still manageable. Determination to keep your health safe helps to curb this urge to be free again. But it is only a matter of time…

For how long can we keep this flame of determination going?

Human being is a complex species that is gifted with being able to identify themselves at mental and emotional planes of existence too. The demon Covid-19 remains invisible to human eyes and yet it is capable of shutting down us physically. But is this demon’s attack restricted to only our physical bodies?

Why aren’t we talking about the wounds that it has caused us mentally and emotionally?

Why aren’t we talking about Covid-19’s psychological impact?

Roads are quite. Highways are empty  Businesses are at a halt. Economy is giving a shrieking cry for help. And we can listen…

But what about the cry for help coming from our minds and hearts?

Ever since this demon attacked our planet,
A boy hasn’t eaten food cooked by his mother
A girl hasn’t fought with her brother
A man is worried about his job and next month’s salary
A woman is anxious about future
A father is tensed about his depressed children
A mother is crying to see her children

Those who are infected, are fighting for their lives but those who aren’t infected, are they really safe?

Those who are not infected, are they really healthy?

When will our governments learn to consider and acknowledge the psychological impact of their decisions?

When will the medical sciences start considering the psychological wounds of physical illnesses?

As am writing this, the demon has already infiltrated countless minds and hearts…

It has already infected the Collective mind and our beloved Earth’s heart.

Prayers remain unanswered…

© Kartikeya Awasthi

Superstition or Hypocrisy?

Beliefs, Superstition and hypocrisy…Where is the difference?

The proof of knowledge comes from experience derived from experiments conducted. Our ancient scriptures describe numerous such methods and experiments to know the real nature of man, call it God if you may.

But how many are willing to practice? How many are willing to see for themselves the truth in what the Rishis taught?

Take today’s science, where we “believe” on the knowledge derived by men centuries back, without experimenting them for ourselves. The privilege to conduct those experiments lies with only a few hundred who can actually repeat those experiments and prove if those “teachings of science” are true. While the rest of us billions (Non-scientific cadre) must agree.
Isn’t it  “Superstition” of some sort ?

But when the teachings and conclusions of metaphysical and spiritual nature are readily accepted by masses without experimenting then they are called “orthodox, rudimental, blind followers”
Isn’t it “Hypocrisy” of some sort?

If a high school pass farmer can blindly believe (and called progressive) that “Sun is a hot ball of plasma” without ever having to experiment to create a plasma in the first place then why is his belief that gods of agricultural fertility will bless his crops this year?


Laugh, I remember it, when you used to laugh
I am sure you still do, just not with me anymore,
Laugh, I can still hear your jolly laugh
I am sure you still do, but I don’t do it anymore,

You did not just leave, you left a gaping hole in my heart,
and now all the laughs that I had gathered for us to last forever,
are gone…

Laugh, I remember I felt my life was good when I used to hear your laugh
I am sure you still do, but I don’t do it anymore,
Laugh, I remember my whole world collapsing onto your beautiful lips when they’d burst open into a hearty laugh
I am sure you still do, but that world is not mine anymore,

Life is good but not the best anymore because there are no echoes of your laugh
You did not just leave but took away my laugh,
Life is good but not happy anymore, because there is no one to share a joke with and laugh
I do smile sometimes but I can’t tell if it will ever turn into a laugh

Laugh, I am sure you still laugh because this thought was enough for me to smile and write about your laugh…



I think, day in and day out, and every second of every minute,
I think, even at the pause between my breaths,
I don’t know when will it be over, because I overthink

An obsessive compulsive disorder that has put my mind to dis-ease,
it makes my head to implode, but would you understand?
Did you read between the pauses and the full stops? Because I overthink

Yesterday, I was talking to you in the safe premises of my head,
hoping to get it all right, every word, every sentence that I said, it was all in my head,
every punctuation, and even where to put the next exclamation, because I overthink

I talk to the blank spaces in my head, they reply and I recreate that, that how differently I would have said,
but I always manage to get a picture of you in my mind’s eye, I am glad that at least here I won’t be judged,
I think about our conversations and rewrite your replies, I resolve all conflict and our fights in my head, because I overthink

I have a hard time to give voice to the words in my head, or actually live those emotions, just for once,
but I am glad that you didn’t listen to a word or see me cry, I am still thinking if I should say it out loud,
As I am still preparing that perfect script,
there is a whole world that I have created in my head,
but there are no people here, I have my favorite dark taverns and blank walls, hollow crevices and vast spaces,
I like to be in this world alone, to think, because I overthink

There is music in this blank vastness, an infinite territory of my mind
no one to challenge or be challenged,
I rest here in my quiet Zen and peaceful mind,
There is no noise of other people’s thoughts, It is only I, my voice, my thoughts and my mind,

Whenever I am in the crowd, among people and their thoughts, I quickly escape into my mind,
Breathing the quiet, feeling the solitude and listening to the echoes of my heart,
I live here, I breathe here, I am happy here I think,
because I Overthink…




I am a recluse, delude,
I love living seclude,
Why are you looking at me?
I am no showpiece, bitch please,
Not into small talks, i don’t say cheese

I don’t hate you, or the next to you,
I hate all people, ‘cuz they are sheeple,
Kidding, I am just shy and I love apples,
I sit alone, eat alone and can’t share my ice-cream cone,
This is who I am, why does it have to be your problem Ma’am?

I talk to myself ‘cuz I can’t share ideas,
My mind is always full, so goodbye no see ya
I know you make fun behind my back,
It’s alright, between us, I know there is a crack
It can’t be filled, I can’t and you won’t,
So why bother? Let’s drown it in some pond,

I can’t help myself, that’s me
Solitary is a game, designed on me
Lone pathways and subways, malls and roads,
Even amongst crowd am alone, this is me
There is a voice in my head and lump in my heart,
It is scared to be around people, makes me go retard,

You can’t be with me ‘cuz I don’t want you to
Still there is a voice that wants me to,
I fight all the time, with my self,
Light and dark, I have a raging twin gripping all of my mind’s shelves,
Maybe am an elf born wrong, there is no escape,
Hello God, see my issues? To whom shall I escalate?

I know you ain’t listening, no one is, ain’t no ear made for my ranting,
I hate this and love that, I crave this and I run from that, stuck forever in my mind,
What a lovely prison you made for punishing,
But for what? And why? Can not I ask?
Maybe you are speaking through some one,
And maybe I am not listening, you made me like this and now the whole world is shunned…


The Kill

Have you ever talked to your other side? How much do you know about it?

It is one thing to feel frustrated and another to end a life. I have always been a thinker, playing around thoughts, creating images, situations in my mind and living them again and again. I believe thoughts have a life. My thoughts are alive.

It becomes dangerous when you begin to lose a grip on these thoughts and they begin to cross a line. It is frustrating to see your own thoughts intrude and disturb your life. But I wonder who is at fault here? Am I the one who is too compassionate to welcome each and every one of them and toy with my senses? I think no!

I have often thought of how it is like to end a life, thriving in your mind. In your head. I give shape and form to every thought that takes birth in the womb of my darker self. You know it’s interesting to consider this for a fact that the gender of your other side is always the opposite of what you’re from outside. I am a male and my ethereal half is a SHE and she is quite dark. It has a kinky ring to it, right?

Well, hold that thought, you might want to reconsider the kinky part for she has a lust. A thirst for darker things other than the usual. Violence. Torture. I think she is sadistic. She is very cunning to always dupe me into impregnating her with my innocence and in return she creates something out of that. Something dark. She transforms the seed of my innocence into darkness. But I love her. She is mine. The dark thoughts she creates with my innocence are my kids. I have given them life and I can always take it back from them. Not so innocent afterall?

She doesn’t mind me draining life out of our kids because not every thought is worth granting a gift of life, right? My thoughts look pretty much like me and the way I slice them to drain the blood out of them is exciting. She loves to watch because I do it so innocently. She makes me do it.

Have you ever killed one of yours?

Murder your own thoughts?