Depicting beings of pure consciousness is different in one key aspect from depicting usual objects. A representation of lightning doesn't give shocks. A true evocation of an energy being… actually calls it there. And when that happens it can be jaw dropping.
Master Tarun Cherian Meditating


Tarun Cherian: Poet. Writer. SongWriter. Mantra Mage.

 (These poems are tributes to great spiritual illuminations of beings who left their indelible imprint into spiritual history... We will offer it to you later as a full book...)

Creative Director with 18 award-winning years. Award-winning Poet. 6 books of poetry, spirituality, art published.

The Garland on His Throat
And My Fingers.

A tribute: Tiruviruttam 76 by Namamallur: Reexplored with reverent words.

“Should it surprise you that I should touch
The buds garlanding his throat?
Yes his who measures the world.
One handspan the earth.
One handspan the stars.

“Should it surprise you that my fingers should dare
Approach the buds on his chest?
And is it my imagination, but do the buds not furl-unfurl
When my fingers trace their dreaming unsleep?

“Yes, the garland, on the throat of him who is everywhere.
“One day I saw him in the mountain”, said The Sherpa.
“One day in the sea, he lifted me from the water”, said The Fisherman.
“One day he stared out of The Ram’s Eyes, and the stalking Lion fled”, said The Shepherd.

“Yes, I dared touch the buds… now open… no longer sleeping… on his chest…

Of him who is everywhere.”

-- Tarun



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Selection from Speaking in Tongues.



Tiruviruttam by Namamallur is one of the most iconic poems, by one of India’s greatest poets, ever. In this re-retranslation I have expanded on it to reveal its implicit majesty. A less flamboyant English Translation reads: “Should it surprise you that I should seek to touch the garland round the throat. Of him who measures the universe, him who is ebverywhere.” As I read, athrill by this poem. Three things struck. We confront the cosmic in human form. And so the cosmic would fit his palm. Second, while God knows his everywhereness effortlessly, we cannot claim such ease, and so see everywhereness from the eyes of many... Last but not least we take the supplicant’s daring one step furthur... When the devotee touches the very garland responds to her warmth. May this humble expansion of one stanza invite you to explore, a great poet, and the starry one that behind him stands.-- Tarun Cherian



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Prenote: Here is a poetic tribute to Genesis, the first book in The Old Testament that is central to 3 great religions, Judaism, Christianity, Islam. It unveils the first steps of creation. we retell the first 2 verses of Chapter 1. It has been reexplored with poetic wondering. Says The King's James Version of the same passage: "In  the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.⁠ And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.  And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters."

Deep it is, deeper than the deeps of the Ocean…
For it is the deeps in which the earth is but clam on ocean bed,
And the galaxy but a shelf, and the whole cosmos but a single rock.

Who can stare into the Abyss and not be sucked in?
For in its deeps, what lurks?
Surely leviathans that swallow stars,
and skeletal hands of drowned pirates, damned forever.
For it is dark there.
No star gleams up.
Even when we let our whole nuclear arsenal rage.
{Don’t you wish to let it blaze and start again?}

Do not look, for it invites.
{That is putting it mildly…}
So you stick to the surface.
But even there no ease shall you find.
Further than eye can reach. Beyond telescope.
Beyond the tireless wing of Angel. Or even Gods.
There is no escape.

Then as these words ‘There is no escape’ begin
to form their dread curse…

Behold then from the heavens they descend.
Down, down, fearless… yet surely hearts beating faster.
They are The Elohim. The Gods. The Plural. The One.
The name sayable. The Elohim. And yet mighty. And mysterious.
Some call Them God as eye can behold.
Some call Them God’s Fingers as earth can withstand.

We call them breath.
Breath that topples the mountains, rips the earth for its moorings,
But equally can cup a weed flower. So lovingly,
I have known your breath.

Yes that breath, that flock, that rushing of mighty wings race down, swooping.
How can I speak of this, for my breath too is but a feather in their outspread thunder.
How speak?, yet commanded, I do.
My eyes have seen eagle stoop.
My eyes have seen hills covered by Mongol hordes, hooves thundering.
My eyes have seen clouds scurry before storm.
My eyes have seen skies part when flame tears mountain in two.
But they are as nothing to this swoop.

Down, down they descend,
And above the waters of the abyss that none can comprehend,
That none can bear, that none can withstand…
Above, inches above,
They float, they flutter,
They shiver…

What is this?
Heaven and Abyss… touching… not touching…
What means this?
Heaven and Abyss… touching… not touching…

Is it a kiss? More tender because it dare not touch.
Like my fingers above her body, trailing ghostly sparkles, too exquisite to bear.
Is it gentling of a beast by its master?
Is it humming bird and flower?
Is it two mighty war elephants?
Is it that they will not, cannot, must not?
For when they touch all this shall disappear?
Like a sultan’s applause signaling the feast’s end?

Or is it when they touch… it is like finger on the skin of a drum…
And we… and all creation… is its music?



References The Genesis, as we said before unveils the first steps of creation. And there are many translations of it. But in most Elohim {God/Heavenly Host}, Flutters, Hovers, Swoops, Dances over The Formless Abyss. Significantly it does not touch. They approach but do not merge. A million ideas emerge... and one... This fragment above is from a larger poem, there we stare deep at implacable abyss, then revel as the Elohim descend. We allow ourselves the luxury of exploring Elohim as God, Heavenly Host and Divine Breath... Perhaps this revisitation will inspire you to revisit Genesis, read the many variant translations, wonder at ancient wonder... Maybe it will inspire a new physics or requestion the Big Bang... Better still it will bring you to the feet of The Cosmic... of The Creator...






The following poem is inspired by Micchami Dukkudam:

“If I have offended you in any way, knowingly or unknowingly,
in thought, word or deed, then I seek your forgiveness.”
Says the magnificently, beautiful Jain prayer.
Inspired by it Tarun pens a poem...


Do Sorry

“Do not forgive me if only my lips say sorry.
Let me Do Sorry.

“Do not forgive me if I only do sorry
But do not mean sorry.

“But if I am ignorant
that I should say sorry at all,
Or do sorry, or be sorry,
Then yes, I am unforgiveable.
But am I unsalvageable?

“Then, you who are the ultimate principle,
please do not forgive me,
But find it in your heart to nudge,
or shove me to that place
Where I can at least realize,
I need to ask for forgiveness.”
-- Tarun



The following poem is a re-retranslation of a glorious one by Mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg :


Naked before God

 “Now I am naked to you... Dear Lord,
My soul, is yours...
Wrapped by you... All Glorious Lord...
Penetrated by your sweet embrace...
Eternity beckons... Life without end.”

Proclaims Mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg



Mechthild of Magdeburg is one of the most glorious mystics. A Beguine Nun who lived in the early 1200's in Saxony. Her book The Flowing Light was described even then as the most joyous love-poem... Heinrich of Nordlingen in 1344/5 made a German translation and sent it to his friends with an accompanying note: "This book, in delightful and vigorous German, is the most moving love-poem I have ever read in our tongue." 

Here is a translation of the same passage from German: 'Lord, now I am a naked soul/ And you in yourself All-Glorious God/ Our mutual intercourse/ Is eternal life without end.'