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I
I am a soul
Your life force
I am the driver
Really just a pinpoint of life
My throne between my brows
Detach from the world around me.

I am a ruler
Ruler of all my sense organs
In the problems of days
Your changing ways
I remain as I am, as
I am just a peaceful soul.

I feel far away from you
Away from the physical world
I am beyond your world
Beyond from intellect and traits
I am peaceful here
I am a meta soul.
The poem opens with a bold affirmation: “I am a soul.” From the very first line, the poet establishes that the speaker is not the physical self but the atman, the innermost essence of life that drives the body. This positioning situates the poem firmly within the tradition of spiritual and philosophical poetry, echoing metaphysical reflections found in the Upanishads and other mystical works. The “I” here transcends individuality, asserting an identity beyond the limitations of the material world.

The central theme revolves around self-realization and detachment. The poet emphasizes the distinction between the soul and the external world, highlighting the soul’s ability to remain unaffected by the fluctuating nature of life. Lines like “Detach from the world around me” convey a conscious turning inward, suggesting that true peace and stability come from recognizing one’s spiritual essence. The poem portrays the soul as a ruler over the sense organs and the body, maintaining equanimity in the face of external chaos and internal desires.

Imagery plays a crucial role in conveying the poem’s spiritual message. The soul is described as the driver of the body, likened to a charioteer navigating the vehicle of human existence, while the “pinpoint of life” evokes the subtle yet vital nature of the soul. The phrase “throne between my brows” refers to the ajna chakra, symbolizing wisdom, intuition, and heightened consciousness. Similarly, the soul is depicted as a ruler of the senses, emphasizing mastery over impulses and self-discipline. The term “meta soul” at the end elevates the soul beyond personal traits, suggesting a state of universal transcendence.

The tone of the poem is meditative and introspective. There is a sense of serenity and calm detachment throughout, paired with subtle confidence in the soul’s unchanging nature. The repetition of “I am” functions almost like a mantra, reinforcing both the identity and the stability of the soul amidst the flux of the physical world. The free verse structure mirrors the freedom of the soul itself, unhindered by rhyme or meter, allowing the poet’s reflections to flow naturally and without constraint.

Philosophically, the poem draws on Vedantic and yogic ideas. It stresses the distinction between atman (soul) and the mind or body, pointing to a higher reality beyond material existence. The third eye imagery and references to the soul’s sovereignty over the senses align with classical yogic thought, while the concept of a “meta soul” touches on paramatman, or the universal consciousness. The poem suggests that true peace and clarity arise not from external achievements but from recognition of the soul’s enduring, immutable essence.

Stylistically, Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S employs a combination of metaphor, anaphora, and imagistic symbolism. The metaphors of the driver, throne, and ruler articulate the soul’s power and centrality, while the repetition of “I am” emphasizes affirmation and self-awareness. Subtle alliteration, as in “problems of days / your changing ways,” adds musicality and rhythm, enhancing the contemplative tone.

Ultimately, the poem serves as a spiritual self-portrait, a meditation on identity and inner peace. It balances mystical philosophy with personal reflection, creating a piece that is at once introspective and universally resonant. By ending with the assertion “I am a meta soul,” the poet invites readers to contemplate their own spiritual essence, encouraging a journey of self-discovery, detachment, and inner harmony. The work is both motivational and meditative, affirming the enduring nature of the soul amidst the impermanence of worldly life.
East Land

April is the cruellest month,
Infalliably all the 12 months.
Traditionally demise, spritually feeble,
Materially firm and culturally parched.

Morning dark, night bright,
droughts, storms, muddle in monsoon.
Legendary roots got detached,
Forming a new trend of hybridism.

Subjects face anarchical tendencies,
Bones speak and stones still.
Folk got restored by alien melody,
Science replaced customs and values.

Everything in turmoil and chaos,
Occult mind and Orient body.
Nothing is constant in Orients,
But absurdity, not change.

Imitations work here on grand scale,
Respect to ancestors in small scale.
Men powerless, others meaningless,
Life is savage, absurd in nature.

Here nobody hears nobody,
Everybody hears nobody here.
Theories and reservation on screen,
Stucturalists, some, others in green.

Life hapless and listless,
Masses reveal gist in nothing.
Examples speak no definitions.
Writers speak only of imagination.

The sun comes and goes,
Lives come and go, dead and gone.
Genuine love a piligrimage,
Material love a bin drainage.

High rise in crime and sufferings,
Science, -isms, hunger, fashion, unemployment.
once served spritual messages to the world,
Awards in physics and chaste in metaphysics.

Eliot traverrsed with his barren land,
Sterilized his land at sheer Ganga.
Presently this land itself is dry,
Dry in culture, wet in cries.

Incarnations, 'DA DA DA' doesn't work here,
Demons and devils can do hell of heaven.
Two faces work in Orient Spritious Mundi,
One being progress and the other poverty.

Music should stop and dance start,
Days, centuries and ages should restart.
This art is impersonal, but tone personal,
Personal or impersonal, life is hellish.

Hopes are to the weakest and most degraded,
I've been born, and once is enough.
Westernization, Modernization, Globalization….

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: February 2011
Notes on East Land by Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Paragraph 1 – Introduction

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S’s East Land is a powerful poem that deliberately responds to T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land. Where Eliot turned his attention to the shattered cultural landscape of the West after the First World War, Abhimanyu shifts the focus to the Orient and reveals that the East, too, is suffering from a comparable decline. The poem is significant because it does not merely imitate Eliot but actively dialogues with him, questioning the assumed spiritual superiority of the East that Eliot once looked to for renewal. Instead, Abhimanyu portrays an Eastern land that is equally barren, hybridized, and culturally confused.


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Paragraph 2 – Title and Allusion

The very title, East Land, positions the poem as a counterpart to The Waste Land. This signals that the poet is drawing on Eliot’s modernist tradition but also offering his own critique of the contemporary East. The poem’s opening line immediately echoes Eliot’s famous phrase, “April is the cruellest month”, but Abhimanyu expands it: “April is the cruellest month, infallibly all the 12 months.” This transformation is crucial. Eliot spoke of a single season of painful renewal, but Abhimanyu emphasizes that the crisis in the East is ongoing, unending, and stretches across the entire year. This establishes the poem’s bleak tone from the very beginning.


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Paragraph 3 – Themes of Decay and Absurdity

At its core, East Land is a lament for cultural decay. The poet notes how legendary roots have been detached, leaving society vulnerable to hybridism and imitation. What once gave the East its cultural strength has been eroded by modern influences. The poet also emphasizes the absurdity of modern life, where values are reversed and contradictions dominate. The paradox “Morning dark, night bright” captures the topsy-turvy condition of existence. The repeated statement “Here nobody hears nobody, / Everybody hears nobody here” exposes the breakdown of communication and meaning. For Abhimanyu, modern life is not just spiritually barren but absurd and directionless.


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Paragraph 4 – Tradition versus Modernity

A central theme of the poem is the conflict between tradition and modernity. Abhimanyu laments that science and technology, while materially firm, have displaced customs, traditions, and spirituality. He writes: “Science replaced customs and values.” The East, once a source of spiritual nourishment for the world, has now become a land dry of culture but wet in cries. The poet sees globalization and westernization as forces that have corroded ancestral practices. This tension between past and present is one of the strongest aspects of the poem, highlighting how modernization has led not to progress but to alienation and confusion.


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Paragraph 5 – Satire on Society

Unlike Eliot’s myth-laden poem, Abhimanyu’s style is satirical and direct. He critiques the realities of modern society, mentioning issues such as unemployment, crime, reservation, fashion, and imitation. The biting line “Imitations work here on grand scale, / Respect to ancestors in small scale” encapsulates his critique of hypocrisy. People are eager to imitate the West but neglect their own heritage. Through satire, the poet exposes the shallow values of contemporary life. His tone is less detached than Eliot’s and more personally involved, suggesting not only an observer but also a critic who feels the impact of this decline.


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Paragraph 6 – Style and Technique

The style of East Land is free verse with no fixed rhyme or rhythm, which aligns it with modernist and postmodernist traditions. However, unlike Eliot’s fragmented structure, Abhimanyu opts for a plain and direct diction. His use of repetition (“Here nobody hears nobody”), paradox (“Morning dark, night bright”), and irony gives the poem its satirical edge. He employs allusion not just to Eliot but also to cultural markers like the Upanishads and Indian traditions, though often to show how they have lost their effectiveness in the present world. The language is deliberately unpolished at times, reflecting the rawness of his critique.


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Paragraph 7 – The Spiritual Dimension

A striking aspect of the poem is its treatment of spirituality. Eliot ended The Waste Land with hope in the Upanishadic wisdom of “DA DA DA” (Datta, Dayadhvam, Damyata) and the peace mantra “Shantih, shantih, shantih.” Abhimanyu, however, dismisses this possibility outright. He writes: “Incarnations, ‘DA DA DA’ doesn’t work here.” This is a powerful reversal of Eliot’s conclusion. For Abhimanyu, even the spiritual remedies once admired by Eliot have failed in the contemporary East. The Orient is no longer a land of salvation but a site of confusion, poverty, and absurdity. This radical position intensifies the despair of the poem.


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Paragraph 8 – Tone of Despair

Throughout the poem, the tone is highly critical and deeply pessimistic. While Eliot’s poem, despite its bleakness, holds out a sliver of hope in spirituality, Abhimanyu leaves the reader with no such consolation. His conclusion, “I’ve been born, and once is enough,” is a declaration of exhaustion with life itself. The voice is weary, disillusioned, and resigned to the futility of existence. The harsh satire, the repeated emphasis on imitation and absurdity, and the rejection of both traditional and modern values make the poem a work of profound despair. Life, as presented in East Land, is “hellish” and meaningless.


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Paragraph 9 – Comparison with Eliot

The poem cannot be understood in isolation from Eliot’s The Waste Land. Both works deal with barrenness, cultural decay, and spiritual emptiness. Eliot mourned the collapse of Western civilization and sought renewal in the East. Abhimanyu mourns the collapse of the East itself and denies even the possibility of salvation through spiritual wisdom. Where Eliot used myth, allusion, and fragmented voices to portray a shattered culture, Abhimanyu uses satire, plain language, and direct critique. The two poems mirror each other, but East Land functions as a corrective: it shows that the East is not a source of healing but is equally caught in the absurdities of modern life.


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Paragraph 10 – Conclusion

In conclusion, East Land is a significant poem because it situates the East within the same condition of cultural and spiritual desolation that Eliot identified in the West. Abhimanyu’s voice is not merely imitative but resistant: he challenges Eliot’s vision of the Orient as a land of wisdom and shows that it has itself become barren. The poem stands as a satire on modernity, a lament for lost traditions, and a cry of despair at the futility of existence. Through its allusions, paradoxes, and raw critique, East Land becomes a modern Oriental counterpart to The Waste Land, reminding readers that no culture—East or West—can escape the corrosive forces of modern absurdity.


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In Rayalaseema’s morning light,
A star was born with silent might.
Venkatgiri Kota held his name,
A soul untouched by thirst for fame.

Born on the edge of year’s last breath,
He grew where dreams outshone death.
December's child with eyes so wise,
A poet framed by dusky skies.

In Marwari roots, he took his stand,
With faith and truth as guiding hand.
The son of Godavari’s grace,
And Shrvwen Dass’s quiet face.

Among the hills where gold once lay,
In Kolar’s fields, he learned the way.
With pen in hand and bread to earn,
He wrote in silence, fierce to learn.

A salesman first, but more inside,
A burning storm he could not hide.
He bore the weight of life’s demand,
While building castles out of sand.

Each page he touched turned into fire,
Each line a breath, each word desire.
He walked through pain with steady feet,
Where love and sorrow gently meet.

Not just a man of chalk and board,
But one whose soul the verse adored.
A teacher clothed in humble truth,
A sage who kept the flame of youth.

In metaphors, he sought the skies,
In stanzas, tears could harmonize.
He spun his grief into refrain,
And stitched with verse his silent pain.

"Heartache" spoke of wounds so deep,
Of promises the stars can't keep.
While "Shattered Love" told tales once whole,
Now broken like a crystal soul.

"Poet’s Love" revealed his strife,
Of truth and lies, of art and life.
"Paradoxical Love" sang loud and clear,
Of longing wrapped in veils of fear.

"Blind by Wealth and Pride" would sting,
A tale where gold dulls everything.
"Longing Love" was soft, yet strong,
A song of where true hearts belong.

Each poem carved from bleeding thought,
Of battles felt, of lessons taught.
In shadows where most fear to go,
He lit his lamp and let it glow.

No fame he chased, no crown he sought,
His heart with inner fire was wrought.
He lived through storms, yet stayed composed,
His wounds, with wisdom, he enclosed.

A voice for those who cried unseen,
A heart that knows where love has been.
With every verse, he gave a name
To nameless grief, to silent flame.

He saw the world in honest hue,
He wrote for both the false and true.
He held no grudge, he wore no hate,
He left his pain to shape his fate.

In every loss, he found a gain,
He danced amid the pouring rain.
For even tears, to him, could be
A drop of hope, a melody.

He rose where many others fell,
A tale of strength no pen could tell.
Yet write he did with grace so pure,
His words a balm, his soul the cure.

He taught with fire, he loved with care,
His presence was a gentle prayer.
A poet, teacher, heart so wide,
A lighthouse through the rising tide.

No riches weighed his spirit down,
His truth became his only crown.
In lives he touched, his light remains,
A song that heals, a voice that reigns.

Though scars were deep, he never swayed,
In kindness was his power laid.
He rose above the worldly storm,
In brokenness, he found his form.

A dreamer, yes, but one who dared
To feel too much, yet always cared.
His life, a verse of giving grace,
A timeless truth no years erase.

And now he walks with steady stride,
With hope and courage as his guide.
He speaks of peace, he lives in truth,
A soul both old, and filled with youth.

He lifts the fallen with his art,
And plants compassion in each heart.
His journey shines, a sacred light,
A beacon through the darkest night.

With voice of care, and heart so wide,
He turns the pain the world would hide.
Into a flame that warms the air,
A poet's gift, a life's true prayer.

So let his tale in silence swell,
A story every heart can tell.
Of how one man with soul so vast,
Turned wounds to gold and pain to past.

He stands today, not just as one,
But as the moon, the star, the sun.
With love he walks, with light he gives,
A poet lives and always lives.

Dedicated to the Time and my Living.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated:14/06/2025
Oh great leader, zero work ethics in your name,
A mastermind of doing absolutely nothing but claim fame.
You are a leader who does nothing right,
But still you act like everything’s perfect in sight.

Your work habits are lazy, your mood swings wild,
You insult others, but play the victim child.
We are in awe of your bravery in absorbing endless praise,
For accomplishments that others achieved, while you lounged in daze.

You are a bad example for others to see,
A leader who fails but still wants to be free.
Your legacy will be one of failure and shame
A reminder to all of your lazy leadership game.

So here’s to you, great leader,may your empty titles abound,
May your lack of substance be masked by loud sound.
May your incompetence inspire a generation of idle pride,
And may your name become synonymous with laziness inside.

Dedicated to the leader with brilliant incompetence.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 28/05/2025
This satirical poem delivers a scathing critique of a leader who embodies incompetence, laziness, and hypocrisy. With biting sarcasm, the poet exposes the stark contrast between the leader’s self-proclaimed greatness and their actual lack of contribution or accountability. The leader is portrayed as someone who basks in unearned praise, shifting blame onto others while presenting a false image of perfection. Their erratic behavior and manipulative victimhood are highlighted as traits that erode the integrity of their position.

The poem also serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of such leadership. Through clever wordplay and sharp imagery, the poet warns that the glorification of incompetence can have far-reaching consequences. The “empty titles” and “idle pride” symbolize a hollow legacy built on illusion rather than merit. Ultimately, the poem calls for reflection on the values society upholds in its leaders, stressing that true leadership demands accountability, integrity, and genuine effort.
You turned away from me with a false heart,
A broken promise, a love that fell apart.
Your lies hurt me deep, a painful wound inside,
You chose money and fame over our love to abide.

My honest heart loved only you, so true and kind,
But you left me for a life that's flashy and unkind.
You gave up our real love for things that shine,
And now my heart is broken, lost in a dark decline.

You were unfair to our love, so good and bright,
You traded it for a life that's not right.
My love was pure, it only loved you,
But you didn't value it, what am I to do?

You made a big mistake, leaving our love behind,
Now my heart is sad, my world is not kind.
True love is selfless, gentle, and always true,
A treasure lost by you, now shining through.

Your duplicity revealed a heart that’s lost its way,
A treason against love, in endless, greedy day.
You must realize now, the value of our past,
Regretting every moment our love didn't last,
Do you feel the guilt of leaving a heart that loved you?

Dedicated to that leaving heart.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 27/05/2025
This poem by Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S explores the pain and emotional betrayal experienced in a one-sided, selfless love. It reflects a deep sense of hurt caused by a partner who chose materialism and superficial gain over true emotional connection. The speaker's devotion is contrasted with the other’s deceptive choices, creating a powerful emotional dichotomy between pure love and shallow ambition. Through vivid imagery and heartfelt lines, the poet laments the betrayal and mourns the loss of a sincere relationship.

The poem also serves as a reflection on the consequences of valuing temporary pleasures over enduring affection. It emphasizes the depth of the speaker’s love and the magnitude of the loss experienced due to the other’s greed and dishonesty. The final stanza brings in a tone of regret and moral reckoning, questioning the betrayer’s conscience. This emotional appeal transforms personal pain into a universal message about love, loyalty, and the cost of misplaced priorities.
Your designer hands, once gentle on my skin,
Now grasp luxury bags, and wealth within.
Amidst the ruins of our love, I search for yesterday,
In the wasteland of your beauty, where charm stay.

Only you exist beyond my family was your say,
Now, after a year it’s just a say, just a say .
For actions speak louder, a love that wasn’t there,
You are my everything, a vow that echoed empty and bare.

My heart is broken, shattered, lost and sore,
Forever changed by the love we had before.
I mourn the loss of trust and our love’s demise,
It’s just a laugh for you, not so wise, not so wise.

Dedicated to such blind pride not so right.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 26/05/2025
This poem reflects the deep emotional pain of a person who feels betrayed and disillusioned by a once-loving partner whose values have shifted towards materialism and superficial pride. The speaker reminisces about the intimate past they shared, now replaced by luxury and pride that have corroded the foundation of their relationship. The lines reveal a sense of loss, not just of love but of trust and sincerity, painting a picture of emotional decay amidst material gain.

The repetition of phrases like “just a say” and “not so wise” emphasizes the speaker’s disillusionment and bitter realization that promises once made were empty. The emotional contrast between the speaker’s sincere love and the partner’s current indifference is striking. The poem serves as a personal catharsis and a commentary on how pride and wealth can blind people to genuine human connection and love.
My Infinity, my love, my soul’s darkest fire,
In your absence, my heart is a desolate desire.
Morning sunbeams that once warmed our entwined skin,
Now bring only sorrow, dear, and longing within.

Chinna, your touch was honey to my lips,
My girl, our love was a sweet wild eclipse.
In your eyes, my heart would find a home,
Dear, with you, I was never alone.

Remembering the rides into sunsets, side by side,
Around Gudivanka beating with pride.
There were definite promises with no shame,
Only love towards each other’s name.

But now, bangari, you are lost in wealth and fame,
Missing love, the touch and the voice which whispered my name.
Do you realise, my love, what money couldn’t buy?
A heart that beat for you alone, a love that said “ you are mine.”

Dedicated to that longing Love.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 25/05/2025
This heartfelt poem captures the raw ache of lost love, weaving nostalgia and emotional depth into every stanza. The poet reminisces about an intense and passionate bond once shared, now shadowed by absence and longing. Imagery of warmth, nature, and shared moments—like sunset rides around Gudivanka—evoke a deep sense of intimacy and connection that has been replaced by solitude and sorrow. The poet uses affectionate terms like "Chinna" and "bangari" to personalize the emotions and convey cultural depth, enhancing the authenticity of his love and pain.

The poem also highlights the conflict between love and materialism. As the beloved drifts away, lured by "wealth and fame," the speaker emphasizes the irreplaceable value of genuine affection—"a heart that beat for you alone." The final lines serve as a quiet lament and tribute to a love that once felt infinite. Through rhythmic language and soulful imagery, the poem leaves a lingering impression of yearning and the irrefutable truth that some treasures lie beyond what money can ever buy.
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