Madhu Goteti
Bio
The thrums in the strums and the delights in the humdrum of life have always fascinated me.
It’s that feast of reason and flow of soul; in all that I see and all that I shall behold!
I am an avid lover of art and philosophy!
Stories (120)
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The Alchemical Kitchen
The Alchemical Kitchen A Manual for Living Life Through a Spiritual Lens Preface: Before You Begin Life does not arrive with instructions. This manual does not attempt to supply them. Instead, it offers orientation—like a compass rather than a map. To live spiritually is not to escape life, but to engage it consciously.
By Madhu Goteti 6 days ago in Fiction
@Embers End
A light glows forgetting this plane Far riding towards those supernal lanes In nature it’s more rising—much above that scouring fame On that calumnious, strobing and shining, Much more brighter, all along those nobler planes The unbeaten earth stands still, Steadfast, in spite of the loamy turgid, rising thro’ its veins By the fire many violet blossoms shaken loose, untie from their rooted plains, They seek an element far afar, as change in time comes thro’ time and again With those early keens swept above those burning flames 🔥 Out of life and into that glory They board some unknown train! Forgotten, as return would bare ‘em much more pain They grow in heart while the blazoned timbers crackle under eternal plains It’s a rush Flying beyond —where the real world comes to a final end Into that yonder, where the silent hearth fiercely bends Far out —over the hills -up there —to meet “his” glory ready to blend It’s —that humbled mind, specter’d in devotion wholly lain O! Gumptious brain whose pouring is limitless off of those roaring flames In nature it’s more rising much above—that infernal fame On that calumnious strobing and shining, Much more brighter—all across those nobler planes © « Madhu Goteti, April 27th, 2022
By Madhu Goteti 22 days ago in Poets
A Reckless Luge
Verbless in time as in a plaintive muse, Or to be twice born and seen as someone new And as pointedly in terms of an eternal spruce What's an evergreen, fading over edges, coming out of the woods .. Of souls ridden in a reckless luge Above all shades, gliding o'er those earthly dues Yea as you and me racing incessantly, thro' and thro To be graced or still yet, grounded as in that nature's grove Oft where unceasing fountains chute up to views As all transparencies light up the mid-summer-night’s lieu Therein reside —me and mine, and ye and you ; all mixed up in such a blended hue... call it an amalgam , or a synergy or whatever you choose .. Evermore like all ends and all truths to ultimately suffuse ! © « Madhu Goteti, April 18th, 2022
By Madhu Goteti about a month ago in Poets
Gayatri: A Spirit awoken !
Gayatri had long been under a spell —a point at which her heart 💜 and brain 🧠 had ceased to function. Living and its real sense of meaning, had taken a toll —much like —taking a new direction in her mind. A major portion of her previous life had been spent amidst Hindu 🕉️ and Buddhist ☸️ religious teachings. Although, at first, she was skeptical about beliefs but soon she realized that there was more to it than what met her eye. However, crowning all and in preparing for life, she perused the field of theoretical physics as her life’s learnings but a peculiar tie to the occult kept bidding her close to the otherworldly. Not becoming insensible to those aspects she somehow brushed them aside in order to take pleasure in such reflections at a later time. Thinking so, three years had passed before a change finally came over her senses. One night, in her dreams , Gayatri experienced a deep humbling feel. Her mind was ruminating deep and she had reached a point beyond doctrines, much like the great awareness leading into a rippling vision. Inclined to seek more, she wondered about the matters of soul -spirit that had already intrigued many humans for centuries. Yet the main stream science kept pulling her back into routine. Oblivion detours were a “no-no,”for the mainstream researchers. But, of lately everything around her was showing signs and she was feeling different. And then, on another successive night, she experienced a chronic pain in a dream. She felt as though she had been stabbed. Then on, subsequently, the dream portrayed her as a soldier who was killed by a 🗡️dagger . Faint glimpses of the past life kept flashing every now and then, and she didn’t know what to make of them. In dreams, her mind kept visiting a hill and a forgotten room , earlier accredited to training Shaolin monks. Somehow, the day routine hauled her out and Gayatri steered away from those haunting dreams. But those dreams came back in the night as if to anchor ⚓️ themselves in the dark. Then one wintry night in December of 2060, following her return to the study of theoretical quantum quest (physics, ) Gayatri felt an urge—a strange pull to understand the reality of her life and schematic dreams. A sort of experiencing a sense of purpose to seek unity between the real and the unreal —as if something was beckoning her to return to a soul home at quantum fields. The subject of matter, mind and the nature of reality ( which she had come to believe so far,) seemed somewhat different now. Soon she realized that her skepticism could either build or break a plausible explanation of life especially in such an artificially contrived world. The steerage in which she had lived up until now was providing a steady anchorage to her thoughts. Yet things were turning in a totally different direction. From such reflections as these and in such stretching of mind, she set out on a voyage which impelled her to look beyond. After a few years and tired of the tedium of exploration, she set out on an arbitrary trip. The destination design was set to the far East where she stumbled upon an amazing phenomena. The realization came off as a “deja vu,” moment while she visited a monastery during her visit. There, witnessing the lives of the monks seemed like a plain matter of fact —at first—to Gayatri. But a closer look at their habits revealed many more aspects that had remained dormant in her mind. With enthusiasm and want of their acquaintance, she adhered close to their customs and observed every particular detail of their life. She noticed their daily rituals of rising early, arduous quest for knowledge and mastery to play in the evolution of higher consciousness. Their firm faith and belief in knowing their place in the larger scheme and their disciplined efforts guided by order, purpose and wisdom moved Gayatri. A few among those monks were known to show wonders of past lives. They had evidenced the existence of past lives and life between lives. Gayatri had almost got a passport into that forgotten realm. Passing over in various ways, these souls had ascended and they were like spiritual guides providing opportunities for people to make contact with higher wisdom. into the nearby mountains. Those views of mountains suggested deeper reflection, giving (as though) real information for subsequent introspection and reflection. This state of mind continued for a few days. Then one early break of the dawn, calling more attention and giving more details to the real situation, was a faint dream highlighting—a forgotten room atop a hill. The eastern horizon was rising above the indistinct lights, boundlessly appearing to stretch across the deep river that was flowing downhill. Therein she noticed a a tiny hut 🛖 like structure amidst those cascading hill. Many measures were being taken to preserve the sanctity of that room. This was a Sanctum Santorum (more of a sanctuary for the monks,) which served them in the rank of beings and promoted ,in any measure, deeper meditative states. At such mountainous elevations monks could solely focus on receiving insights while passing through deep trance state, outside of themselves, to discover what living was all about and who they were in the larger scheme of things —universe. Just born different, Gayatri was always intrigued by the nature of things, in and around her. Choosing to go afar she aspired to take that journey for years. So fixed upon to get under the weight of things, Gayatri found herself set upon that uphill trek towards that room. All around her she saw greenery and bright colorful flowers. The wind blowing a mesmerizing fragrance. She could feel the warmth of the sun touching her skin. A path led her footsteps uphill and she felt drawn towards it. All this repeated in a pattern until she intently relaxed for the revelation to unfold. A little more than just started she found herself buried in a cemetery, where lay her ashes alongside a few others in a forgotten room. The record of her past life was unknown to many but there could be no reason fastidious enough not to question it. She found her mind’s eye 👁️entering an expanded perspective. She had stationed herself in a region . A portal. Are you awake or are you still caught up in that incessant hearth chase. Embarking on she moved ahead amid whatever ran through her mind’s theme. “It’s an illusive dream,” she found her subliminal thoughts echoing. “It’s time to come off of it,” she said. Helping herself out she frantically tried to swash herself out of those thoughts. But something was impelling her to look through them. Memories?! She questioned. Are these memories — messages from the past or some sort of a spell. Why was she drifting back through times. Who was propelling her to do so. She noticed that her observations were not the same as in usual wakeful observations. But images although hazy sometimes—did made sense of what was happening around . “Is it a spell? “ she queried self to clear the unsettling situation. How could that spell be broken?! That was a mystery, she was ready to uncover. And, out there stood a summit floating in clouds with its peripheries stretching between two worlds—one,the real, and the other, appearing ethereally unreal. It’s hillsides were steep, appearing pristinely magnificent. Afoot meandering through the brooks and the river, were melodious streams eagerly gurgling in the haze. All the earthy elements seemed coming together in a scenic blend. It was ,as though, she was looking beyond the discrete to finally hit the grounds of synergy. What was to follow was an enigma. Where was she ? Who was she actually? She felt brand new as though rebirth-ed. But in a subtle way she felt as if she was reliving a moment. She was picking up moments of past life. And with that essence lingering in the presence of the time, she headed towards a place where people were resolute to bear the heaviest burdens cheerfully. Out there, most of the people perennially remained calm and devout; almost truthful like ever more so unfaltering. In all this, she felt confined to some distant scheme of things, tucking her away in her own mindful enclaves. A sub-space of mind that was switching between realities and possibilities. For a moment she felt temporally lost or ever-more-so totally ignorant of that geodesic space. But then again soaring high above and going along so,she was all set to cast away inhibitions and drift away. This region was held ,and fervently revered for its' spiritual reverie; giving it a unique set of values which reverberated gentler idealism all around its' near vicinities. Ever since the days of the yore, at the most, this sort of living, resonated a beginning of beginnings; increasingly precipitating a monastic- asceticism in its making. Brought up in such surroundings, everyday acts c’d get the expression of intimate solipsism. Gayatri found herself instinctually gravitating towards its tendency to accede to the vesper calls of spirituality. Thinking of it, she longed for those singing matins residing in the gentle trebles of the early dawns' sightings. That sort of mysticism, longstanding in the never ending cycles of sacred gleams was coming back to her mind. Suddenly a room appeared in sight. It was a sort of a monastery. Right there, she was concurring it’s ethos to all plausible means. This was a place in which the essential spirit of the spirited souls had been nurtured. It was the zone of the metaphysical and for times immemorial it had emancipated itself to look upon the past with a rationalistic shared new meanings. In its essence, the present connected to the past ,and note worthily, it all transcended into 'morrow with its own inner workings. That was a night out in reverie fully deeper in its faith, proceedings and all it’s belongings. And here, in her case, fresh fruitful impulses were drawing her into echoing whispers of history and spangling her into an age which sat on perpetual splendors of immortality. And scrimmaging through this passing evolution of evolving miens, she felt caught up in a sense of identity. Could it be false? She sought clarity through those happenings. Gradually, this, in turn, had almost invariably turned her into an unrecognizable alien. She was turning into an entity entirely left to feel nothing with no holdings to any tidings. And, it is by such continuance and with its lingering effect upon her, she still perpetuated somewhere in it. Perhaps, confused as a defter she was wading off in reticence . Yet, in such muddled sense of spurning knock -backs, she found herself still existing. Was she positioned to listen to reason, pitched upon another trial of speculation, or Was she prepossessed to probe profundity and conceive it's foundations with each and every posterity gone airy ? Not awry. Either which way: whither, wherefore and whence, she was advancing, searching and researching, and continuing to get drawn towards those irresistible feelings. All this while, she was living by the sole influence of the externalities. How could she be so?! And now, the impending reality, aloft in air, was squarely looking at her, in the face. A terrible awakening, in which —she had held no particular sight of anything. It was ineffably grappling her. Gayatri found herself under the influence of reason, but everything was threatening to trivialize her. And in all this , now, she had a forgotten twin meditating 🧘♀️up in the mountains —somewhere in a forgotten forest! Yet, on the contrary , accustomed to seek major truths , she was determined to drive her tittering impulses to seek clarity… ah! those inklings. Was it Intuition?! Or was she staged in an in-between world of AI ( artificial intelligence,) emergence. Partly, this was why she found herself groping,--quite silently, preposterous in ways, at the first prospect of knowing who she was exactly. She was like a proto-testing the danger inherent in knowing things in advance of (one's ) time and remaining indifferent to it, definitively. But echoes of the past were still haunting her .. Was she seeing how the land had lied to her! Not seeing an inch beyond my nose was not an option to me. An oracular heaven seemed to be directing her. Was she at cross purposes and staging herself on the wrong side of the history. The call in the question was - Should she be a passive resister or be a conscientious objector in reckoning and recanting this mystery. That's just it --an absurd hint; some idea or the other bubbling ; neither more nor less of an inquiry , yet shaking it’s hands with all dignity —-O all mighty! But then there were some secrets of this small- town- society, much largely concealed , not so formalized ,and yet, averring to carry her into its' deceit. In that one moment, she was wondering whether she was refining her mind's image of herself or was her imagination betraying her. Where was she? Who was she? A new age entity caught up in the past life. A humanoid; a cusp between humans and the other worldly beings-bots!
By Madhu Goteti about a month ago in Fiction
꩜ 🍂 𝘈𝘯 𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘉𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 🍂 ꩜
🍂 An Autumnal Behest 🍂 Now I am fully perceptible like the keenest eye, sashaying the varieties of tints, springing thro’ these autumnal skies. Though each hue escapes into every espy, Nevertheless, I’m watchful of minds bearings, to fully testify O sight, you better fervently qualify Every moment which evidently comes up as this fleety wondrous- joy I gaze upon those wintry hues within which, those precious subtleties —duly— pass me by, O! Those passing clouds, hurriedly hiding all those veritable sighs! No sooner do I shift that mindful eye, I prepare to seek out potent spells, quite undisguised, Oft dwelling above those western skies, all this playing upon my eyes Listen! Have you felt it’s cadence fly Afar over the trails, pounding beats, not a lie ! And unto those divine excursions that silently provoke specter’d yields of crimson tides … And long after rocketing thro’ those gilds of shiny ✨ tints, In through those canyon ladders —far up the mystic highs I find it hard not to soar—way up there—in through those mystical skies Yes it’s…Ethereally unearthly; supernally sprightly Yet breathing thro’ senses to lift my eyes Yes, I spy …. This profound nature fading its' intense vistas into the subtle gentlenesses of the milder vibes As if, lending it’s divine beauties, overflowing into the wildernesses wild Compellingly, I find myself faring thro’ those fragrant aromas for miles and miles And binding me to mother nature and its endearing potpourri, is this gracious guile To all this and more, I simply smile! For now… My soul resides — Between this joyous devotion and that devouring delight ! Cheers to the autumnal specter yielding me into this supernal sight ! 🧡🦢🦢🦢🧡 ✨💫 © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, November 11,2025 P.S: Ah ! Those flashes of red, gold, and amber, the crisp breeze, softly landing amidst those misty sides And with a thousand spills of sparkles around, evoking the rustle, the white, the quiet shift, all beside those graceful hides All in a spree, all for those eyes !
By Madhu Goteti 2 months ago in Poets
Eyes 👀 Spy : Questioning Who am I ? The Sun, The Monk and The Moon, 🙃😌😇🥶The Hunt?!
In the hush of the star-forged wilds, A bow of moon-beam, and an arrow, hunts the vesper milds There, the cradled time, arching in the haloes, dwell alongside … At which , the oceanic nocturnals, round up to inquire : Who am I?! Do I —serve the rumors of every other desire—dripping over forever, fraughting over pyres ? Nay, not really. My quiver is empty My heartbeat a drum; I trade it for silence, I trade it for ONE ☝️
By Madhu Goteti 2 months ago in Poets
