What if this is all there is?

What if this,
is all there is?
What if this..
is as good as it gets?
What if this is
as far, you were
meant to be;
And everything
that you ever
dreamed about
for the future,
were memories;
Being carried on
from a past life.
A past where,
you had it all.
A life where,
you made it all.
And yet you still,
wiped that slate..
Just for this!
Maybe you had
but happiness.
but satisfaction.
Just an empty,
dark void..
That you could
never manage to fill.
Maybe the purpose
of all your sorrows,
all your struggles,
all your happiness,
and all your
Was to bring you..
in this present;
That you
so carelessly
discount for
being a lot less,
than it is.
This present,
that you never
fully learned to
appreciate; Because
you were always
too fixated about
filling that void.
The void that
cannot be fulfilled.
The void that robs you
of the present,
that is the present;
While keeping you chasing.
While keeping you running
after uncertain tomorrows,
as all your todays
Have come and gone.
Each one of them
having failed,
to satisfy you.
Wouldn’t you regret
not enjoying this,
a lot more?
Wouldn’t you regret
not living; while
you could have..
If you realise,
At the end
Of it all..
was the best
you could have ever had?

© Jay Kaushal

Photo by Jay Kaushal



…Is temporary gratification for the uninitiated seeker of self realisation.

…Is temporary gratification for the uninitiated seeker of self realisation.

It’s the first reflex. The first instinct.

A nagging feeling of not ‘fitting in.’ And a realisation that you never ever.. Will.

It’s elusive and misleading.

‘Escape’ isn’t real.

Just a distorted reality of a convenient inability to reconcile with the truth that…

True progress is made, moving deeper and deeper into oneself.

Everything outside, is, was and shall remain..transient.

Everything inside, began dying the moment you were born.

Between the two… rests the undying, uncontained, uncorrupted fragment of life…

Silently watching your shenanigans in amusement.

©Jay Kaushal

New poems Wednesday and Sunday.

The way of the Buddha

There never was a beginning.
There never is an end.
All you’ve ever done,
All there’s to do,
is walk around the circle;
over and over
and over, again…
until you’re done.

You don’t need
to stop,
or start again.
You just need,
to realise
what you’re doing
and decide,
if you want
to keep doing it,
or no longer.

There’s no grand felicitation,
for stopping.
There’s no shame either,
in not.
There’s nothing,
to get.
There’s nothing,
to not.

Everything is
what it is.
Leave it be.
The centre
of this circle
is within.
Yet you encircle
all, without.

© Jay Kaushal

New poems every Sunday and Wednesday.

Eyes shut open

You keep looking but you can’t see. Because you look everywhere but within…

We don’t see ourselves,
Through the eyes of those
Who love us;
Or hate us.
We see ourselves,
Neither from the eyes
Of the present;
Nor from the eyes
Of the past.

We see ourselves,
With certainty;
Through the uncertain eyes,
Of an uncertain future.

We don’t see ourselves,
No; not at all.

© Jay Kaushal

New poems every Wednesday and Sunday, mostly around 12pm GMT.


What do you do;

When you are lonely,

But not alone?

Who do you turn;

To share those moments,

You can’t express?

Do you wear,

A smile on your face, or frown?

A feeling of melancholy, or bliss?

Or do you yearn for a hug?

Or a smile or a careless kiss?

For years and years, I’ve been lonely;

But never have I ever been alone.

I’ve tried hiding my thoughts and

I’ve tried, letting them be known.

I sit and ponder in those times,

I have none but me for company;

Does life pass me by?

Or does it simply fail;

to keep up with me?

© Jay Kaushal

This poem is actually one of my oldest poems. I wrote this one way back in 2014, sitting in the office around mid day back in my first job. Lol how time passes…