The flame flickers as it consumes the candle,
I watch as it slowly devours.
Hungrily, the fire leaps up,
Unleashing its hidden powers.
The glow reflects within my eyes,
Becoming steady, calm, and constant.
My gaze holds firm, though my eyes water
Its brilliance burns, too potent.
In the silence of a pitch-dark room,
I stare deeper into its core.
The quiet deafens, the radiance divine,
I gaze—till I can gaze no more.
I close my eyes—darkness surrounds
Yet there it blooms, a flame so pure.
It rises at my Ajna, the seat of sight
You may call my inference premature.
But I know—it is mystical, divine;
I feel no fear, I feel no pain.
A rush of awareness, otherworldly, vast
A feeling I can barely explain.
It is no afterglow—clear, sharp, alive
An amber blaze—my trataka ignites today.
I chant, dissolving into the divine,
My third eye opens—its light leads the way.
Niharika Prasad
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