Eastern mind

It accepts it all with a subtle glow of warmth,

Bend with gives and blessings,

It’s not pompous to claim to know,

Oh!! But it does,

Like telepathy between lover,

Every moon rise,

Every number,

Each flight of bird,

All innate objects speaks;

And yet the silence grows deep,

Universe of signs,

Asks them to rise,

Every sound vibrates with reverence of the soul;


The quest in you,

The meekness in you,

The embracing one in you,

That’s your Eastern mind,

The one that worries less on accounts of results,

And yet it works and carries the pains of life,

That is your eastern mind,

My eastern mind smiles,

When it recognises yours,

It cheers your “karma”

To know yourself,


Know all beyond….

-Rupika Moitra


My experience with my own Truth and spirituality has always led me to believe that what I was seeking couldn’t be seeked with ambition. The element to let go and let it take you with it, to trust it means letting go of your ‘egoic expectation of abilites.’ and flow with that I called in.pexels-photo-674258.jpeg

Within the shut doors of the house, the walls convulses,

They reverberates with stories,

of love shared, of pain fared,

they turn into filaments,

Aspiring to dissapear,

Merge into thin air,

Walls seek to bring the out, inside,

Between close eyes, the mind chatters.

It pulls and pushes between pain and pleasure.

Refusing to pause thriving in patterns.

It dangles in past stories,

It builds castles of dreams and hopes for future.

Trance breaths between the two.

You arrive at it,

Fleeting, evaporating,

Defying grasp and tendencies of its holder,

It flows,

It calls, it moves, it carves, it imitates,

It rises, It sets

All for flowing,

Till the cup that holds

molds into the Flow…..


Rupika Moitra






” Humans alike bird recognize the virtue of experiences

Landscapes, smell of air, smiles,eye contact, styles of niche creation, the color of aspirations as versatile as the colour of doors- synchronised or mismatched.

Its the seeking to love but first to understand. Sure, it started somewhere with quest of power (Alexander) or SpiceTraders.  Man is of instincts. He acts his way to redemption of soul

However, this quest for migration is real, it captures and pulls the soul like the magnetic field of Earth, guiding migratory bird to risk its life to live and feel its flight. It is innate that we risk contents of comfort for learning.”


Migratories are curtailed,

For territorial games,

Travel and change wasn’t just luxury,

The cost of it- Mortality,

Yet, you have to break chains,

Monotone, scarcity, placid of planes,

Transformation in height of mountains.

Every lost  breath craves,

Hope, it steads towards Peace,

Mapping magnetic field,

Pectoral plates moves,

Breaks to reconnect,

Planning and processing this feat,

Includes delay, adjust to change, intuits;

Construct and destruct, constant at play,

Knowing it all,

Why mammoth this soul, frailer,

Why then?

One walk towards, change willingly?


The futility of Unwillingness, we see;

Could ‘change’ be urged to stop?

If  we could;

Would we toil with cringe, quiver or shake;


Would we embrace ?

Rupika Moitra

For If


Transcendence is curated in solace yet it is relational. “all within me”
“Immanence is cultivated in closeness of relationship; with the aspects of
relationship which produces unity or a
point of identity.”

“How will I reach?”

For if, there was no one to see,

Would you still dress?

For if, your scent or stench couldn’t be perceived,

Would you still clean?

For if, hands had no where to touch or reach,

Would you still outstretch ?

And Love,

For,  if you could only give it,

In it’s purest,

but can’t feel

Would you still love?

Rupika Moitra

Perched Soul



What if the soul could detached and refuse to connect to a ruminating self. Then, would we stop self-loath.

Is there still too much noise deflecting intrinsic wisdom?

Is it the mere fault of focus that is stuck on deliverance and ignore soul’s guidance?”


This morning,

The soul left self,

It felt contained, I guess,

I professed emptiness,

Then, I saw ‘It’

Perched on neighbor’s roof,

looking up,

missing home,

Drenched in blue,

Absorbing clues


Far, so far;

The body with scars

It rebels,

Doesn’t own its shame and guilt,

Stays blinded to its built,

And yet, it yearns to invite,

To staithe sombre

To complete;



Formidable and forgiving,

It returns with a smile

With a wink from divine


We wait together,

My soul and I,

We still play,

our endless games

None is ready,

to give up the chase, YET…..



Rupika Moitra

Ticket to Freedom





are just sounds echoed till we actively seek,

To project and believe,

A daily task to open shackles of doubt,

To unleash potential and let it sprout,

Each day, I walk towards it,

Then I take a few steps back,

To cross this channel,

To dive a little deeper

Almost there, Almost

I crave to hear

Each day I raise the question louder,

Today, can I try harder?

Now, as I come close to the ticket window,

I need to muster the last of muscle power,

To smile and walk ahead in line,

Convinced, I have mustered enough currency of courage,

That lasts me for the journey,

To announce through the ticket window,

Yes, I am ready

Finally ready to take on this ride,

Tokens of tenacity,

I find them in my stride……


.Rupika Moitra

Circle of injustice and Anger

Five years ago, I watched in disgust and pain, an incident all over media about the rape of this young woman by a group of men. She fought till her last breath. The incident was grave enough to send shivers through the distant of hearts. It outraged the world, it outraged the men and women alike. All hoped for change. Change in laws and change in social construct, mental makeup of a society plaqued with patriarchy. I felt a sharp jolt every time the incident was talked about and enraged as I watched lawyers of culprits justifying the act.

5 years since and many such cases over, I notice a certain desensitised part of self that wants to run away..want to avoid at any cost. I don’t understand the inconclusive outrage, the protest anymore that doesn’t change a thing. I don’t understand the request to stone the men responsible to death.

I don’t understand the statement of “I am what I am” by girls coz if you have to say it aloud- then you are not really ok.. it still bothers what is thought of you. Authentic Acceptance of self come from guess who… self.

To me, those men represent a group of hyenas, really who traced a vulnerable cub, a victim. Their conscience is curved by their hunger of power. They are still the part of jungle full of animal instinct.

But, our egoic satisfaction through self-righteousness, I don’t understand and hoping actions of eye for an eye, wanting to propagate relentless fear… how does that change a society. Members just get good at hiding. Criminality is not something to be killed. It has to be fixed at the core like a disease. Punishment should be realisation of crime not vengeance.

Someone should ask them of their moronic motivation of a underdeveloped mind. Ask them why they have some to hate humanity to extend to shred it at it soul.

I am not there yet myself to forgive but I don’t wish them shameful deaths because I can’t objectify my own instinct to see someone killed.

Conniving destructive deeds and anger outburst. Where does it lead us? How many times? Social justice should begin from self. Killing hyenas wouldn’t stop scavenging.

Be the change…compel the world to change the channel to promote kindness..don’t push bad part to the naughty corner so deep that they creep up on you. How do we question that anger within, if we do ?

If it leads somewhere .. go ahead… if it doesn’t … make the change.. don’t be the ostrich and under the same sheet of sand.

The sheet of hatred.