“Within You Without You”: The Musical Journey of Pandit Ravi Shankar Through These Years (1920-2012)

Ravi Shankar (1920-2012): A Journey in Music Through These Years

Ravi Shankar (1920-2012): A Journey in Music Through These Years

“When you’ve seen beyond yourself-then you may find, peace of mind,

Is waiting there-

And the time will come when you see

We’re all one, and life flows on within you and without you”.

  – “Within You Without You”, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Beatles, 1967 (lyrics: George Harrison)


Music is the heart of the soul

Strings of sitar touching the feet of the Lord in things

It flows ubiquitously into the sea of void to touch the lapping silence of the light

In between all that, ‘this is that’ in him to be ‘it’ in that Malhar raga

The banks of Varanasi offering thy homage

To that divine inspiration that taught through the years

In that beautiful voyage in the 60s

Harrison, Yehudi, John and Phillip and all other distinct faces of the time

Carrying that boat on the river within them to light the last source of the sun

So tomorrow is a brighter day for those who travel into other worlds

The hidden spark of the Brahman giving wisdom from the depths of consciousness

To create that aura of undying music            

Ravi and George: The East is West in the West of East

Ravi and George: The East is West in the West of East

Not for once – but again and again

To be retold in the past coming back from the future

So we live with it as our very own – connecting with it

As music flows like thy peace melting bondage into paradise

Chanting the numbers of future explorations

For a beautiful world to be won in peace.


 – Joy Roy Choudhury

The Flash Disk Apostrophe of the Bhimbhetka Stars in the Day-Rhyme of Alblackica Illumination

Day-Rhyme, Alblackica-Clock, Samij Datta, 2012

The Flash Disk Apostrophe of the Bhimbhetka Stars in the Day-Rhyme of Alblackica Illumination


The flash disk apostrophe of the Bhimbetka stars saw the yahotri yigadohum….yanimbha kaal..entering the creation-physical-proper; in the eye of the superimposition the day-rhyme of the parasol gives shelter from the sun, time holds the Mesolithic key to the naked destiny of the future as on its lap the ear of the Shambhala heard Beethoven compose the ceremony of the first symphony in C with an grand eloquent performance on 02.04.1800 measured by 0081.40.20 points to cover the French armies’ advancement into Cairo; the river is not a hot metal plate of the Heliopolis but a scriptural design, some call it the water-bed of the vineyards of Provence, some call it the hand- book of the navigators of justice but it’s a quasi-fluid in the hanging drama of time-self multiplexes, the alblackica working in the alblackica to change substance and form, to evolve mankind towards a greater destiny, and with supramentalisation of matter, the spirit is the hanging cross of the breathing years of laughing cows in the pre-Buddha-Buddha of ajax informational-functions;


When the child was the Hari-takyat moon of the seven seas then the camera was watching the differences in the solar unity of the one, in the zero-muscular reticular analogues it felt the Rolls Royce Silver-Ghost in the habber-brahman looking for itself in the neo-platonic rosariums of Plotinus, Porphyry and al-Farabi; in the beauty was the knowledge the drifting waters of the Ganges before the sun-task of resurrection was an alblackica rhythm, but, now in the hollow isolation of the I-pipes, the thunder is a bed on which the horse unplugged its vision to create the Nomura, Numero Uno of the distant stars;

Time is coming like the rider on south seas’ eternal leopard, swift sensations are denominations of the cupboard chess playing the game with the bicycle of Jonathan Livingstone Seagull; the ra-ru-re dream of the child-in-play in the cloud’s epiphany of the Stephen artist is the primal void from which everything is run; let the sun eat the tomorrow in the arrow of the stars and we can dance another time in the Alblackica day.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Archival Photograph, Bhimbhetka Cave Paintings, India

Rolls-Royce ’52 Advertisement (From Ad archives)

The White Line Energies of Shambhala that Recapture the Primal Essence of the Solar Disc to Create the New Dawn of the Civilization



Gyan -Ganj Plate 1, Samij Dutta, 2011

The White Line Energies of Shambhala that Recapture the Primal Essence of the Solar Disc to Create the New Dawn of the Civilization 


The black pearl in the mother of the stones, ionization energy per decra grativ in the quarto of time is the yoving car of sunyata; the trees after midnight offer their silent prayers to the heliocentric circles of the diminishing stars; morning sings the eragman blues that are the fire-yidams of the lasoto supramental ear- a point is a point in the alblackica mind, flying in the aerospace the light is often the light of the moon’s shadow in the vectors of Shambhala; the ripe old sun is the fruit of its perfume if the violets can dance to the rhyme of the excited ions; energy is the art of the mind to restore the creation from the decay of its space; time runs with her the lion symbols of the hoan manifested in the pupae of the butterfly cycle, every single color on the dotted wings is a pattern that evolution carries in the wave-germination of the particle towards the deep threaded probabilities that has no absolute but variable cognizance of a relative domain of time. Shadows are not shadows but the light of a constant delight that ferments the amino-glutamine structures of the proteins; a glass mirror can replicate the water cycles on earth through the vector diagrams of a clopen pyramid; the ice melting on the mountains bring rain on the salty seas for the seagulls to fly over rocks and boulders, and into the wide open empty spaces where the skull of the sun is buried as atoms in the charcoal fumes of the diamond light; red hot metal plates beneath the earth are shifting with time; come rain come rain come rain again to wash the feet, the ash is white line of energy that convert a neutral aldehyde into the lithium fragrance of the stars.

That’s how we began in ‘it was the hours before the Gods awake’, substance and form entangle with time to create words that offer energy to the spirit of the sun. without the silence the words are empty and without the words the energy has no rhythm of its own, the light is the dancing spectacle of alblackica, the night is the fear of the morning to become blind and without being blind there is no consciousness as eyes carry the germ that directs the light into the far ethereal madness of syllogistic heliographs.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref:  Golden Solar-Disc/Sun-Disc of Lake Titicaca which was presumably used by ancient civilization as a cosmic computer to verify the source of the universal mind and to connect to it effectively for sharing knowledge and renewal of energy.













The Time Cursors of the Alblackica in the Baquytra Mother of the New Creation

Baquytra – Mother Eternal, Samij Datta, 2011

The Time Cursors of the Alblackica in the Baquytra Mother of the New Creation 


Romanesque tiles are put one on one and turned on the sides as if the twilight had its wings stretched to meet the amorous night, she sat on the ivory pillows of the rubric not waiting for it to happen but she knows that the last is the first attempt in some distant dream of the eye’s vision, the domain was the function not of time but of its space that no longer had the room for itself except the words that floated unseen on the tabula rasa of the prima matra – rivers are shadowy cats that grow longer as the sun recedes into the cocoon of the silkworm verse: today the rain brought the helicons from the far east into the north node and the stars in their feast abandoned us on the desert highway that goes further into the emptiness of the storm, and, through the eye of the needle the red purple bud of some flaming ethereal plant was watching the creation in the cradle of the woods. That was Baquytra in the ionine aquanto resembling the blue sea in the leaf of the rest and falling like the motion of the flying birds southwards into heaven.

She was alone before the sleeping hours, when the earth and its planets didn’t talk or shared their dream, before the candle formation of the fire in the hills, many light years away, waving at the wave, at the point, frequency not touching the feet of the curve but obliquely smiling at the crowds, in a comedy of errors where no gain no loss was the staple diet of the actors and the men. Sign into the eleventh dawn take away the three and the remaining is the status of the new mother eternals of the creation. Thou has seen not the word with the tongue, its navel was the teeth of the alblackica time, churning the vast in the Metropole, its walls are covered with snow dust frames that move without moving in the fluid senses of the zabber-mind; Baquytra was the song of the ripe gold summer months with laces of autumnal winds that take away the cherries before the weevil can hide beneath the grey musk of the badger; another way of this time was not shot but ideally framed on a canvas by the space differentials of the eternal function.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Album cover for Meddle, 1971, Pink Floyd

In the Equipoise of the Silent Eye that Rests in the Peace-Arm of the Sun: The Quantum Arc of the Rotating Disc is the Time Equivalent of the Plastic Fantastic Lover

Quantum-Hydra Alblackica Clock Series, IV, Samij Datta, 2012

In the Equipoise of the Silent Eye that Rests in the Peace-Arm of the Sun: The Quantum Arc of the Rotating Disc is the Time Equivalent of the Plastic Fantastic Lover


The aborigines of the east in the Sumerian time are clocking the Alpha Reticuli of the sand-river bath; the white ocean is the silver phantom of mystery earrings that touch the air with a sudden slight intoxication of the black venus hydra. Logic of the logos of the ruhatit time effervescing itself in the windowless shadows of the hypermetropia; change changes its constant as the sun is the mirror of another morning in the night of its day, in the cupola it sees the flaming horizontal axis per decra zime-mass in the evolution of the earth. Rolling the wax into the wicked length of the wick, the height became larger than the stars that shine it conversed with the moons in the isotropic bond that shared the lion positrons of the hyper-space; yuwaziha was running in the fields, the space-game track was on the heels of a light-train that fired no bullets but danced with every yellow flower of the signal white in the tetragonal bliss of a motion without the vector-drive.

The desire was the fountain of an even aspiration climbing the shoots of the radish into the cold-tar of the book of paradise, it was only a dream had meanings that separated few from the rest as every you from me and conjoined together in the holy threads of the isomers of Peru through alblackica time…alblackica time. That was only with purple and pink satin  wall-hens that were  growing in numbers in the hallelujah of the canvas chanting the momento mori of the Prima donna birth in the zazermoan of the past identity. I am here illumining this into that so the bird speaks the alpha beta letters of the alblackica mind in the new creation of unified knowledge as seen through the haloed vision of the webang-glass queen.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Reference: Photograph of Divine Mother, Mirra Alfassa (here s Webang-Glass Queen, as seen in the Sun recently)

Alblackica Clock Series I : The Extinct Sepal of Sunyata in the Faith-Circle of Neolithic-Holograms




The Extinct Sepal of Sunyata in the Faith-Circle of Neolithic-Holograms 

The grey rhombus is the square of the elliptical moon that doesn’t exist, only man can make him know if it’s simply a circle with mask of a flower or is it a beehive with the droplets of honeyed-rain that sphere in the cirrocumulus clouds without any desire or anything to represent. They do not exist on their own but only in the mind as it thinks they exist, the art and the nature, the birds and the beasts. But history tells that they did before the age of National Geograpic, in the archaic horns of a rhino that subtly felt the crimson sun setting with the hippotamus in the lakes of an open set, in the Sunyata that appears on the blank prose of an open rhyme or in the terza rime of seraphic mountains over the Sufrehi, looking towards the hippodrome amidst the pillars and the pines of the Mixolydian , Ionian and Aeolian modes. There they are observed like a phenomena that occurs, without the mind there is nothing real or subjective; the kite is not a kite to a Neolithic man but the hard rocks are shrapnel to defend a system of his thoughts that exist because he sees and hears, and sniffs the firewood to burn the proteins that are observed chains of amino acids closely linked to the evolution of the creation and what is this system of constellations if they are not in the mind as something real and participatory; no they don’t exist on their own they are dependent on us like electrons and positrons that are apparently due to some quantum events.

Energy and matter interlock in the art only because the water is the surface of the wind which is the vast ocean of delightful poise in the al-qamar planes of the alblackica mind. The dance is the quixotical sheep of a hydrogen bomb that disappears in the open wise words of an Autolycus song “When daffodils begin to peer,/With heigh! The doxy over the dale,/Why then comes in the sweet o’ the year/For the red blood reigns in the winter’s pale.” To the ancient brick-time of the extinct-sepal it’s the Shakespearean hypothesis of Stephen Hawkins in the Haight-Ashbury era that makes common man speak what he can before he is diagnosed with Staphylococcus in an asylum of hospitals that also doesn’t exist here or anywhere else in the world. The hot air balloon is flying in the sky with patches of the lamb’s wool that had the hologram of the Neolithic man.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Inflatable Flying Pigs/Pink Floyd Animal’s Tour 1977

From The Shambhala Song An Excerpt of Time Within the Heliocentric Ideals of True Love Epiphany and the Commemoration of the Great Day


From The Shambhala Song An Excerpt of Time Within the Heliocentric Ideals of True Love Epiphany and the Commemoration of the Great Day


The empty days of Shigatse in the empty streets of Shigatse and the residual matter of the lapis time/the akik-time are a part of my birth cycle life. To whom we know as the King of the Kings, to him we owe our effective balance to withdraw the self into the psychic heart of the sun, into the alblackica consciousness that governs the heliocentric system of soluble solutes. A part of me and a part of the Other are the same side of a double-headed paradox: alblackica, the zero-constant and One is also the Many in the Many of the One. The time is the city that rules the king after the sun conquered the essence of the stone in the rose matter equality of ancient love and in the lion-clock of alblackica the zabber is the seconds eating every second to turn minutes into hours and days into the years; aeons passed into the vibrating medium of other aeons, the rainbow is the cyclo-cycli-cycla consciousness stream, its the vontaxness of the free-mandala of Tibet.

Song is the requiem of another song of Shambhala; Roerich is the tree whose apples are Shigatses within Shigatses; the grass is the painted sea of the blue sky, the rainbow is the etheric-flower of no-light; the black is not black but blue-black in the real beauty of existence; a dead flower is the tree of the sword of true knowledge, its source is within; the stars are the camels of deserts walking in infinity. As the sands grip the maps of alblackica, the Yuwaziha queen is dancing in time.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Nicholas Roerich Photograph from Archives (Roerich in Tibet)

The Innumerable Units That Make up the Unified Vision of Alblackica: Through Time in Time they are Dromos-Dero of Yuvik-Dimensional System


The Innumerable Units Make up the Unified Vision of Alblackica: Through Time in Time they are Dromos-Dero of Yuvik-Dimensional System


The said prophet of the dromos-dero is the swan, he sees life as a flow in the solid gradiant of the sun’s alblackica; there are the times when the alter of no-time builds images to deconstruct laterally; they can be the camera of the world to make-believe what it is not but behind the celluloid of matter’s cellular destiny the light is acting agent of meta-transformation; the wind-hole is the pipe through which the rainbow seizes the flood to conquer the sea; the red-hat matter is born from the Yuwaziha tree, every second of nayutin time its eating the death to see the purple emanation of the future; the red is not red but the burning rose of black Sabbath petals of the primeval fire; the cold silver sea was once a warm river from the geysers; rotation on revolution in the spiral gyres is xecat bexas;

to what you see in the trapeziums the crystal hangs the agate like cross buying time in the free-market economy of space to return the light to where it was; green grass was the melting snow of many aeons, the tiger moths are not looking for a flame to die but they all can see what they cant’ see : the sky is the image of the water on the surface of the radioactively charged crystals of the sand, they look no further, the camera has tilted its vision now, Yuwaziha is going back to the sea to drown with the drowning sun beneath the night petal-birds and a mnemonic moon.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Aphrodite on a Swan, Pistoxenos Painter/Terracotta , 460 BC (presently at British Museum)

The Zero Constant within Time-Fluctuations: The Yuwaziha and the Zebra-Moun-Book of Eternals

ALBLACKICA PLATE V, Samij Datta, 2012

The Zero Constant within Time-Fluctuations: The Yuwaziha and the Zebra-Moun-Book of Eternals


Sun’s dancing spirals can eat the cow of darkness madness hear the words of reason’s after-light the pantomime crow is the destiny of all –travel far and beyond the creation, to make the creation the creation it shall be.

That shall be the door of an open courtyard many separated differences of lives put together to churn the mill that harvests the milk of the absolute or rather the amsolute in the aksolute. It’s is the best price that can be paid at the alter of Alblackica. Yuwaziya watches the time that has no personnel but the persona of this song is the real unmanifest and the virtual self-professed manifested pentagram in the cross-palm history of this earthy race.

Trees that have feathers are the burning spectacle of a lion in rage he fathers forth the entity of time that came from the cave-pigment of the bell-vision; the vision is the truth that had the binomial function of an azimuthal quantum number, energy dissociated are transferred back to the prima matra and in the mirrored hologram of the mind cast-lind-wall- it’s rather in the plates that the unread chapters are read again to give matter the highest frequency that it can maintain with the spirit in unison to fill the promises of an open bargain with the creator or the creatrix. Where are you in the dying vision of the ‘burning giraffes’ of Salvador? The insignificant are casting their vote into the pyramidal structure of the grand design – they are taking the shape of tigers that are the white-sage elephants- the million Bwajem-Jwahyu Sadhus of the non-time matter, of the other-space coming down on earth:

Tetrat Terav Tetrat

Nestrat Nihayo Nestrat

Love is the Wind of the River of No-Time.

Follow her steps as the streams squeeze the grapes to make the setting sun twine with the vine and as the drops fill the lapis with the yellow laughter of the moon, Yuwaziha is dancing…far from time in time to time but not in time as the words end the end of themselves.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Reference: Grateful Album Cover Art (Axomoxoa)

The Embryonic Journey into the Center of Time through the Eternet Networks of Alblackica Consciousness

ALBLACKICA PLATE IV, Samij Datta, 2012

The Embryonic Journey into the Center of Time through the Eternet Networks of Alblackica Consciousness


I have no other than the Yuwaziya Elohim Harastot     

Time’s fragments are motionless in the custody of space

There are tunnels through which the wind-river can pass

April’s showers are the bona fide travelers of many writers

They can spring Avogadro in the reason of no-time

If you are there the one then I be the zero

In the even placenta of the embryonic journey

Through the dark matter of time and eternity into the spirit of the sun

The self has won the zime-bliss of the introhan

Alpha alblackica alpha alblackica of the dust free nature

Is the revolving circle that binds the new creation to the Mazuvonts and Neyunkavs

Ethereal queen veta-veta ethereal queen on the high-webang glass lights

There is a summer in every winter despair there is an autumn in the vernal equinox

The birds have flown are coming back through the empty street-skies of matter’s destiny

Rains can build the relative frames they can construct the terrapin-law minds 

They move in with the distance the shorter the arm the long it goes

Every arrow is the speck of glass-sand in the equilateral circle of the rose

There language are not words but profusion of streamlets into the ultraviolet end of the spectrum, the prima matra is there …is there like a sign without the sign as with the sign on sign as sign

Kari Kura Keret Hroam!

Just as the snails cross the trapezium’s end through the alblackica bed of time and space

Within that interval I am standing there waiting for you to win back the golden carnival

Hours to minutes are seconds to years adding their own substance to the light body of the earth …the purple turns the blue into the madness of the red to conquer the black

The white is the soldier in the grey fountain of life, the sparrows are not dying

They articulate the free-mandalas of speech that within them the ions of heliums are dancing so free, they can remake the whole creation with light that remains inside the iroton Q-cube with Iroton.

-Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Picture from Pink Floyd Archives