Sunday, May 29, 2011
If it was just her wish, she wouldn’t have started the venture which she knew was not just tiresome, but perilous indeed. No matter how hard she tried to convince her ever friendly conscience, she just couldn’t abnegate the ominous feeling. Yes, she could see the forbidding star in the distance and premonitions and misgivings were not new to her. From time immemorial she had been witnessing the callous pranks of time. It wasn’t yesterday that she got acquainted with Time’s villainous countenance. In fact, she had often wondered if it was her hesitant relationship with time that had caused her face to be wrinkled and shadowed at such an early age. Many had convinced her that her daring teens had long before given way to the maturity of adolescence. But she had always very consciously evaded the fact. She knew she was meant to live, live life to the fullest… life was in living…
Was it her well preserved ideals that she had nurtured from her childhood that incited her to make the dart that would one day become her sceptre of support? Or was it because she wanted to escape from her clichés of ignorance? Or was it because an urge to find the redness of her blood was germinating inside her, unknown to her? Maybe she is very professionally facading it.
Now she had this undying wish which can only be satisfied by the quest she is planning to undertake. The time has come for her to emerge from her cocoon and emerge triumphantly too. There should be no more masks or fake roles to play. Time has come for the world to know that under the greyness of this corporate coat and the robotic monotony of this schedule, there is a heart - a heart that is not helpless anymore. The heart of a woman that searches for her soul and yearning for truth.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
If you are so much at ease with your siblings so that you can hide her hall ticket for fun on the morning of her board exam, and laugh at it together,and tease her with her so called boyfriend right before your parents, and decorate the Christmas tree as per her instructions even if you are some 6 years older to her, and finds happiness by giving her the best chocolate from a lot and yourself taking just an ordinary toffee, make her a fool on April fool's day and let yourself be fooled, and try out her new uniform before she has even seen it herself, and scare her with the scariest stories just before her bed time, jump down at her from the cupboard, and pry on her as she is applying her makeup, smuggles snacks for her from under your mother’s nose, make faces at her when she is ready for a speech, and waits for her to come upstairs and get you the pen that has fallen down from your hands, and stands by her when the whole world is against her, and finds all sorts of excuses to make her fault look like some big sacrifice before your parents, and longs to see her on your birthday, and yearns to tell her your happiest experience before anyone else, and cry on her shoulders when you sprain your ankle,then I tell you, you have the best sister in the world.
If you rush into your mother’s arms after a hectic schedule at school or college, and tell her about the silliest incidents at hours on length and still finds her attentive, and you tell her the creepiest tales in all humour, drink the cup of coffee that she provides as if you have never tasted a better one before, and tell her about your dreams and desires no matter how absurd it seems, and her words give you solace more than the comforting words of all your friends put together, and she knows all your friends very well, and she can tell you when exactly in life you are taking the wrong deviation, and scold you and corrects you, and you find your dress ironed up and kept before you on the morning of your interview, and sees her knelt down beside her bed in prayers for your success, and feels an assuring pat on your back when your dreams fall down like a pack of cards, and a twinkle of ecstacy in her eyes when you triumph over the world, then you have the best mom in the world.
If yours is a dad who has always been your role model, who asks you whether you have a headache when you shy away from a steady conversation, who asks your mom whether you are alright when you don’t feel like going to school one day, who rushes to bring you medicines at the first sign of a cold, who wouldn’t mind going around the world in order to find the best college for you to study in, who tells you to go and change your dress after you try out all sort of mixing and matching in your attire, who will wait for you in the car until you finish your weirdest shopping sprees, who forgets your mischiefs in the next second and remembers your achievements to be cherished for a life time, who loves you, loves you and loves you…without limits for what you are and also for what you are not then... you have the best father in the world.
Mine is a home- a family in all its sense. I’m always grateful for the abounding love that my God Almighty is showering on me every single day of my life…
Friday, January 28, 2011
I WAS PLUCKED OUT
I am someone
Who wanted the indigo out of the rainbow
Preferred the thorns and the vacuum
Instead of roses and roles.
I had wept with the betrayed
I had laughed with the ecstatic
And always longed to wipe the tears
Of puddled cotton and bitter sugar.
But I was then,
Just a lotus in the marshes
Contended and proud
To be erect in the dirt.
I had felt miserable
When someone plucked me out.
I lost my sun,
I lost my moon
I lost my friend
Who gave me the hue
Perhaps I need to change
With the turning wheels of time
So I tried to reconcile
And yes, I succeeded.
The effort was well timed
For now I have
My sun and my moon
My cherished hues
And my coveted friends
Forsaken dew drops
And my long lost honey
And I know that before long
I can wipe all less privileged tears
Fill the bellies of tortured hearts
I have the chalice
I have the wine
I only need
The countdown of time.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
BURNT FLESH, UNBURNT DREAMS
Coloured feathers floating in the air
Was always more than a fancy for me
Fancy turned fascination
Later, a fervent dream
Dawn and dusk, I’ve dreamt a dare
Of chasing the kites
That hurt the clouds
And tame the hawks
That mock the stars.
I grew up...
The dare was met
I weighed less
Our bank weighed less
But assurance enough
That i would live
And the lockers would fill
Sitting on this embedded throne
Amidst my passions and emeralds
I wish i was in my mother’s lap
On that dreaded day
When the hell blew in.
The layers of powder and the pink rouge
Couldn’t obstruct the angry flare
I wanted to be fair
Fatal darker, i became.
I’ve felt only warmth
When the flames engulfed
But felt the stings
That my mother would feel
Holding my burnt flesh
And unburnt dreams.
I never yearned for a whirlpool
When life around me
Was burning to ashes
But in that red hue haze
I pined for a petal
To wipe the cataract
In her brimming eyes
Playing in the mud
I wanted to float
And reach the stars
Should i be sad?
Or be ecstatic?
As i float in this light
And dance with the stars.
(In remembrance of the deceased in the Mangalore air crash)
Monday, May 31, 2010
MY BIGGEST TREASURE
I asked my father’s permission to go in search of the greatest treasure in the world....Though at first he was reluctant, eventually he agreed... I searched and searched,,, went to all the nooks and corners of the world, all to no avail... atlast i came across this magical mirror that will show me the treasure if i look into it from the highest mountain in the world.. Barring all fatigue, i climbed and climbed, braved all the cuts and scratches on my face and the glittering unicorn's blood that was dripping down my neck. Finally i reached the peak of the hilly terrain. I took out my mirror and looked into it.... Believe me, i wasn’t surprised to see my father’s face reflecting on it from behind. I turned and saw him standing behind me. His tired physique, scratched countenance, glazing neck and still charming smile proved to me that he was behind me in all my travels across the world... like a guardian angel... always keeping me in an eye’s distance... Renewed respect, affection, devotion and love nourished my senses as i rushed to my greatest treasure and wept in his arms.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
I’VE STOPPED WRITING VERSES
I’ve stopped writing verses
I’ve kept it somewhere
And lost it somewhere
My daring dreams
To change the man
Who clutches the world
And bring to earth
All joys of Eden
Without the forbidden fruit.
Rambles to riches?
Paupers to princes?
Give me another thousand years
I wont be able to.
I’ll use those years
To freeze the sun
To dry the Ganges
And uproot mountains
Not to change man.
I live in a world,
A ruthless world
Where men make guns
With the verses
Torn from my heart
My expectant ideals
And hopes of revolution
They gave as homage
To their mighty Gods
Who holds the strings
Of a bright future
And wash their muddy feet
A felicitation to treachery.
With gospel in one hand
And brochures in the other
They go to churches
To make new contracts
They mock at the Gods
And count the seconds
Till the curtain draws
Rush to their offices
To build new empires
With their secular pride...
I’ve lost all hopes
Of filling the vacuum
With glorious thoughts
Of a balanced world
Where men will open their eyes
And see their brothers
Hear their cries
And fights for rights.
Their bloody lips
Camouflaged in lipsticks
With corrupt notes
Can speak over my mellowed scripts
And break my pleas to pieces
I speak to a blind world
I speak to a deaf world..
I’ve better things to do
Can’t waste my time
Im going in search of a tutor
To pacify my vain wishes
And a well earned beautician
To curl my wavy hair.
(Fed up with the callousness and hypocrisy of the world)
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
A PROUD HEART
The owl perches upon the sparrow’s branch
Dusk accepts the flame from eve
The moon mocks at the retreating sun
And i crawl along the muddy road
Weighed by a baggage
And bowed by time
The wind is my comrade
My rags invites him
To soothe me with his ruffling breath
I love him dearly, still
I try to shut him out
With my sneering blanket
For i cant bear his parting
Which leaves me coughing
And cold and freezing...
In the distance, i saw
Sneering in the smoke
A well fed rose
A ray of hope
A wealthy bungalow
I shuffled my boots along
And knocked on the door
My parched knuckles contrasting
With the polished brass knob
In there, there might be
A loving widow, whose wealthy husband
Left her a fortune..
She’ll give me coffee and fresh baked cakes
A place to wash and a cot to sleep
And thoughts to nourish, and memories to cherish.
In the morn, i should thank her though
And gift her my treasured souvenir
Give her a parting kiss to return
Since few are kind in this drowning world..
The door opened just enough
To let a peeping eye be seen
Shadowed eyes glanced at me
And without a second thought,
The heavy door closed before me.
I tried again with a shimmering hope
She was, perhaps, in a rotten mood
And maybe had time to think again
This time it opened well enough
To let a stuffy lady to be seen
Straight away she hurled her tongue
“Why can’t you work?
The world is vast
And you are a man”
I stared at her
And bent my brows
“I would have,
If i had my legs”
Her gaze went down
To lock at my feet
Boot clamped in a long pole
And gave a silent shudder.
“I fired my shots
And heard the cries
Killed my brothers
For you to live
Amidst the skulls
I slept my nights
For you to sleep
In your cozy beds
I burnt my dreams
Of a family to care
For you to live
With your pride and creed
I gave my leg
To the enemy’s greed
I gave my life
For the soil i loved”
And wept a hesitant tear forgetting
That soldiers were made not to weep.
Assured enough, she went inside
To take a pitying penny or two
I turned my back
Retraced my steps
With brimming eyes
And lost hopes
But with a proud heart
And words echoing my soul
“That the world is vast
And i’m a man”
(An ex-soldier’s lamentation. He lost his leg at the battlefield and at present, has to beg for a living. It depicts the humiliations that he has to face after all he has done for this big bad world)
Monday, May 17, 2010
YOUR’S IS LOVE, DEAR
Many a times you’ve told me dear
To write about you, write for you
I suppress a tear and turn my back
Not knowing where to start
Always wondering where it’ll end
Not because i don’t love you friend
I do, you know, the Gods are proof.
I need more words to prove my guilt
You told me tales of tears and torture
And made me forget my trivial pains.
Now to compensate all saved ink
Lost love, stoic acceptance
To the wrangling games of reality
Your reminiscences, suppressed grief
Your anguish, i’ve charted in my frail heart
I’ll never refuse an owing deal
With you, i wish to love you more
I’ll write for you till my parchment bleeds.
I’m not going to ask you again
What you actually saw in him
Twice or thrice i’ve doubted my doubts
You just smiled and stared at the stars
Believe or not, i envied you then
For you searched for nothing to prove your stand
Love without reasons
Love without motives
I’ve often wondered, was he worth
Your sleepy thoughts and sleepless nights?
He is a mortal and you, a goddess
Goddesses have and only they have
This divine virtue to love, lacking returns
He could have turned his ever proud head
And seen the wasted candles and hopes
The faded rosary’s and mumbled prayers
Seen his self in your chaste face
Felt his life in your heart beats
Found relief to all his doubts.
When the chapel echoed your critical pleas
And my soul felt your drowning pulse
At least in my next birth, i wished to be born as him
To know your love and be the luckiest
I too wept with you, for you
And hoped for a chariot to lift you both
Or a sacred spell to vanish him forever
I know his physical self will go
But he’ll still live
To blemish your life thereafter.
He chained your dreams
You loved him then
He crushed your feathers
You loved him still
He broke your wings
You loved him more
If men have lived and died on earth
If you and me are friends till death
And if there is a thing called’ love’
YOUR’S IS LOVE DEAR
YOUR’S IS LOVE.
(To my dear friend who burdens because of unrequited love. She did love him more than herself but the fate was too cruel on her)
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
They say, I’m mad
You are my self
My conscience, my care
The trusting mirror to my complexion
A soothing touch to my torments
My goals for the unattainable
You, with a wink of your eye
Turned to cravings
Aims to satiate
My obstinate wants, you
With the same wink of your eye
Burned to ashes
Never to be regained
The bearer of my dreams
My cravings and passions
You snatched it from me
And never voicing your pleas
Without a glance at me
Went away with it
Leaving me stranded.
My masks and my roles
To the wind you gave
And made it wings
To soar away from me.
They say you are dead
And i’m mad
But they know not you
And know not me
They are the foliage that droop and wilt
And we are gods that make them stand.
Palate your subjects
And come back to me
I know you will
For i own your breath
Give me my dreams
Wrapped in hope
And those ages
Wasted in waiting...
Behind these bars
I tell them so
They stare at me
And move to tears
On joyous days, seldom
When they show me light
In the gloomy parlour of my concrete nest
Decked on the wall
I see your face
As ever smiling
As ever mourning.
I wish to stand there
And hear you speak
And sing for you
Our choirs of love...
The pressure of their arms
Still makes me stay
But the tears in their eyes
Forces me away
They put me in chains
And gives me killing pains
But those tinges of ecstacy
That you gifted me and left
Gives me the will
That slightly hesitant will
To secure and to sustain...
I need not these snatches anymore
For you will come with my glittering dreams
To free me and lift me
And take me to cupid’s castle
Show them the garlands you made for me
With your infinite threads
And your passionate beads
Still fresh with memories
Of yesterday, today and tomorrow.
But even now they say
That you are dead
And i’m insane.
(A sincere wife who became mad by the death of her husband. His framed photograph gives her occasional solace. She still feels that her husband is alive)
Reflections of a grandmother
I see you, my dear
In your daughter’s face
In her playful pranks, i see your smiles
I hear your songs in her chuckling rhymes
And miss you more, when i see her more
My wrinkled hands sew the frills
For frocks i made for you and for her
I combed your wavy hair, but now
Curly locks await my brush
Flowers i loved but i loved you more
Had i known that you’ll go unsaid,
I would have done without my flowers
I never knew that the bouquet you’ve bought
For me, would be your fragrant wreaths.
Down these steps you went unasked
Leaving your kid with her faithful dolls
And fell a prey to the motors rage
The life in you hugging the tyres
The dolls still give her solace
More than you or me or vague memories
She asks for her mother, i bring her to you
You’ll smile at her from your cozy frame
She’ll plant a kiss on your smiling cheeks
Over the glass and the pastel hues
And rush to her dolls to share her tears
My leaves are sure to wilt very soon
I’ll learn to love your betraying flowers
And take your hand and share all joys
My grand child is safely snuggled in her bed
Her faithful dolls still warming her dreams
Sleeps, a reflection of you my dear.
She’ll soon have two to share her kiss.
(Musings of a grandmother whose daughter died. She is now the guardian of her grandchild. She laments over what will happen to her after her death, which she feels is fast approaching)
LAMENTS OF A COLLEGE CORRIDOR
The all pervading omniscient corridor
The bounteous plank of youth
I have witnessed the wheels of time
The curls of reasoning
Twisting and turning
Never knowing fatigue
I’ve seen the love declared
Emotions soaring and passions sustained
I’ve read a thousand chants
In the glances exchanged through the panels
The gaudy hues of their newer lips
Provoking the souls of their trusted halves
Many a deceived heart i’ve seen
In the promises scraped out of them
Trying to paste their ripped hearts
With roses that fall on my sympathetic lap
Crushed and its petals weeping
As i flap through my pages
With memories drifting over my lines
Through the gray mist of my eyes
I see a few hilarious hearts
Leaving my shade, hand in hand
Taking with them the well wishing clover
Plucked from my heart, never to part
And i have smiled, i have prayed
They come back to the same forgiving shade
Separately, with their shattered hopes
Dead dreams and dying desires
And with a heart tormented,
Searches for their broken pieces.
When they tell me
“You have seen it all”
I stare back at them
And hurl my pleas
“I’ve yet more to see
And yet more to teach”
(College corridors are the silent witnesses to love- its hypocrisy and fidelity)
Beneath the strangling hands of time
Their frail beatings stench and quake
Their soul, their will, their lethal arms
Playthings panting, helpless and mute
Wounds split opened, vibrant scars
Seconds pulling the puppet’s string
Their present when the pendulum strikes
Stirs away hopes, those hesitant strokes
Pasts fretting the oblivion’s curse
Fidgeting future, steps unsteady
Harsh time, he’s a compulsive villain
The cunning knife of a callous world.
Mortal lives are its sharpened edge
Youth and aged, tender and stale
Shedding the dreams of its faithful slaves
Weak as they are, the knife cuts through.
(Men are helpless in the hands of ‘Time’)
To you my friend, who gave me dreams
Futile hopes to tame the world
You who tuned the song in my heart
And dropped my coin in the wishing well
You, who showed me blind fairies
Deaf and mute, no power even
To pull me from the aching marshes
Giving me helpless gifts of pity
To whatever trials it has been put,
Your love always came out the best
Your gift of a phoenix, its wings now broken
Refuses to sing those immortal songs
My self, you held my obstinate shadows
My cloaks to wear in heaven’s abode
My breath, you promised to follow me
To eternal tunnels, hence take your leave.
(To a friend who promised to be with me even in death)
Friday, May 7, 2010
Go for tears
As i stare into the depths
The very depths of life
Rolled into a grimace of ecstatic tears
Enfolded in a parchment
With a ripe leaf to dry
I wish i was that leaf
Life’s coveted comrade.
But now i’m a flower
Fragrant and frail
Drooping before my delicate dreams
Scratched with the thorns of life
I foresee the time destined to die
Slackening the seconds
My vanity and pride
I’ve packed in caskets
And sits by laughing
As it weeps to ashes
My hopes for life
I’ve submerged in my tears
Happily borne tears
My childhood and youth,
They loved to cry
My infancy tried laughing
But she sprained her side
And i don’t want to face
That aching loss again.
If you are living
And want to live more.
Go for tears
It cleanse your souls
Nurtures your hopes
Staled emotions renews your senses
After all silence, there will be blasts
After all tears, there might be joy.
I can feel that enigma
Strengthening my urge
To laugh and to play
Infinite happiness fills my heart
Powering me with joy intense
This window gives me a view of the world
The dew and the rain.
My hopes for life
My life of hopes
(Tears are more sincere than fake laughter)
Under your shade she played
You grew up with her smiles
Nourishing those sustained motions.
Your branches made the anchor,
That gripped her swaying swings
Your watchful eyes discovering
Renewed passions, joy and tears
Resting beneath thy helpless shade
Consoling and concealing.
Still she shared the fruits you bore
Sweet or sour, it warmed her heart.
Thou, witnessing her steep ladders
Trials and merits, dreams unfulfilled
Frail coward, why oh why?
Shedding your leaves in the midst of spring
Unasked, fearing autumn’s rage
You knew, she liked mangoes raw
Still turned them ripe with the pace of time.
Her generous hands
That watered your hopes
Now limp, a pathetic blue.
You never knew
When you shed your leaves
And ripened your fruits
That death awaits your miserable self
For you will bear the ashes
That makes a kindred soul
Blameless and eternal
Forgetting and forgiving
(A mango tree who witnessed a child’s growth and eventually became her funeral pyre)
Take away this ‘halo’ and give me havoc
Give back my scars and save my fears
Remove the beads from my possessed crown
And embed the thorns soiled in blood
Force me back to those gloomy abysses
Where once i dwelt with my dead comrades
Pack my coffer and throw it at me
With your divine wand, for it stinks too much.
I’m not chaste, my choices drab
I’m just not worth and my verbals void
Your accomplice, now no more
Your fairy, with a musty frock.
You were my father, tackling my tests
My cloud and fire, now take depart
I broke your tablets, i sinned, i sinned
Against you, man and my sacred stars
Hate me, hurl me, the deceiving me
Maltreat me, i know i wont weep
Wont regret if you manacle me.
For i tore your trust, i sinned
Willed your wishes, i sinned
Still if you can,
Only if you can,
Spare me my laboured wings
Once gilded with my noble deeds
Casted with your sacred spells
I know, i can’t stay away from you-
For too long, i swear
I’ll soar up to you.
(Repentance of a sinner)
ഞാന് ഒരിടത്ത് ഒരു നിധി കുഴിച്ചിട്ടിട്ടുണ്ട്
എന്റെ അസ്ഥികളെ കണ്ടെടുക്കണം.
ചിതലരിച്ച എന്റെ നോവുകളെ തളച്ച്
വായ പിളര്ന്നു അലറുന്ന സര്പ്പങ്ങളെ കുരുതി കൊടുത്തു
ആരോ പണിതു മറന്നു വെച്ച ഏണിപ്പടികള് ചവിട്ടണം
കമ്പ്യൂട്ടര് യുഗത്തിലൊരു പനിനീര്പ്പൂവ് തളിര്ക്കണം
സ്വിമ്മിംഗ് പൂളുകള്ക്ക് മീതെ ഞാന് പണിത
എന്റെ കണ്ണുനീര് തടാകം താനേ ഉറയണം
എന്റെ കാരിക്കേച്ചരുകള്ക്ക് ജീവന് വെക്കണം
എന്നെ തനിച്ചാക്കി അകന്ന എന് ചിന്തകള്
എന്റെ വിലാസം മറക്കാതിരിക്കണം
എന്റെ അമാവാസി പാല് പോല് വെളുക്കണം
എന്റെ തംബുരു താനേ മീട്ടണം
എന്റെ കാല്പ്പാടുകള് ഭൂമിയെ അളക്കണം
എന്റെ വിഭ്രാന്തി വിസ്മയമാവണം.
എല്ലാം ജയിച്ചു ഞാന് ഞാനായി ചെന്നപ്പോള്
എന്റെ നിധി എനിക്ക് മുന്പേ മറ്റാരോ എടുത്തിരുന്നു
ആ മന്കൂന കൂടി ഞാന് കണ്ടില്ല.
Had i met Hitler before
I would have told him
That the bloody hands
That strangled his brothers
Could have been the flames
That lit up their lives
The twists in reasoning
Were just wild rumours
Made up by a bored monk
Over his coffee table.
History made him
He made history.
I was mute, my ancestors too
The few worthy mouths
That sounded the timbrel
Doesn’t live to repeat their vows
Hitlers do emerge over the centuries
Either in armour
Or in the parlour.
Blood is their weapon
Revenge, their right
Legacies to the darker race
The swords and the rifles,
That trained your footsteps
The wailing sirens,
That sang you lullabies
He gruesome childhood,
That gave you excuses
The bitter wine,
That intoxicated your challenges...
When the judgement strikes
Will wash off their hands
You will be trapped
For earth will speak.
Before you make coffins.
You could have been a loving father
A caring husband, a trusted brother
A sincere lover, a doting friend
An affectionate son
All merged together
And be a human
Tearful joys and aching pride
None of which should you pocket
The pain felt everywhere
Without a tonic to subdue
May it be your pain, your despair.
Kill your mentors
Mutilate your teachers
And be world’s pride
(A plea to the criminals and terrorists to change for the better)
KNOW ME FOR ME
The insinuating rays of the ravished sun
Cannot keep me chained to my tears
For i am empowered
Not by his sceptre
Premonitions that shake the core
Or mantras that tune my dirges
The world can stoop and crawl and creep
But i stand firm on their bowed heads.
I weep in the eve and laugh in the morn
Circumspect my moves
To circumvent my obstacles.
After the display of his vigorous warmth
The lord can go back to his lighted chamber
To disrobe himself and his vital frills
Keep aside all treachery
To be dealt with the next wake
And welcome his deity
With her mystic mantle
Bleached with the regal unicorns blood
To take his place and charm his baits
The fragile deity
Still tries her best
Accepts my triumph
Weakens her hold
And hails my roots.
I’m not what i was
My present convalescing
I am what i will be
And will be what i will
Try as you might, you cannot
Push me back to that erring marsh
Or cite me to search for the pebbles i dropped
Don gift me my avenging stick
Making adders emerge
To strangle you with kisses.
My solo laments,
I keep them in gospels
Never to see, never to hear.
For i am the lilly
That the dove flew away with
And dropped on the shores of Vatican
Holding the flawless crucifix.
Know me for me
For i might not be the me you knew.
I wait for the train with draining eyes
The station spins before my thoughts
Busy men with their confident strides
Busy ladies with their priceless mirrors
For a final touch up before the train arrives.
I start a journey
Where to, i forgot
Maybe i just don’t care
The hippie crowd that raise the slogans
Has, but an aim to push them along
Me, sad pilgrim,
With a scholar’s outlook
And a golden chisel to paint my dreams
Sits in pity
Gazing at the trolleys
That knows their owner
And their order.
The uniformed official with his loyal baton
Marches along, in search of vandals.
Can he ever trace and find
The ties i left behind on my way here?
And the roots i burnt to cease all growth?
If he can, just rope it around
I can, maybe, drag it along
Never hug it to my bosom
As i used to before.
Porters heave their welcoming loads
Sweepers sweeps away their past’s traces
Menial labour and meagre wages
Can, of course, feed the belly
I with my wriggling notes
Search for a tip to force me forward.
I can hear the rumble in the distance
And smell the hungry coal in its heart
Hungry to devour dreams and distances
This pilgrim, alone in her progress
Not even hungry to sooth her dreams
Now she has learned to just dream her dreams
And dream it at night
Not at dawn to fulfill
I take my load
In search of greater loads.
Friday, April 30, 2010
The lips that lecture continues the ritual
Sacred i know and ceasing never
Her eyes missing her tool at times
To lock at my distant face
The pause in her chants
Pulls me from midair
Where my thoughts are floating
With no constraints
I stare at her enquiring face
And wonder whether
The quilt i had kept in my worn diary
At home, has borne her seven children
The oak of my dreams
Planted by my aging bearer
Has wilted its leaves or not
I know, my parched paper
Where i quote my chimes
Is waiting for the ink that tickles it to life
My parrot lives to voice my hopes
The cat must have died
I must offer my bouquets
I long to rush to my humble roof
Where my clock ticks yesterdays seconds
Pack my grief, joy and tears
And catch the next train home
I hear my incessant laughter
And the engine’s shrill whistle
But no, its the mechanical clank
Announcing an arrival
Of lectures new and nurtures fresh
The train i’m in is not late, i’m sure
Ill reach my nest in time for tea.
(Written during a boring second language class)
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
When under the scorching heat of the sun,
We shared our triumphs and our tears,
Were we lovers or just friends?
When u showed me the kite of your desire
Tied with your heart’s strings,
Did you ever wish for me
To soar it high into the clouds
In search of a stage to play our parts?
Did you ever wish
That things could have been happier
When you were you
And i, a different me
Not diffident, but a diligent me,
Where i could trace my wishes
And rule the world
With just my conscience to pacify me
Now that my kite is hooked
In the tree of obligation
And torn with the thorns of responsibilities
I shall, but love you better after death
Don’t force me
To trace back the ailing path
That the obliging kite took
And force her back
All mended and healed
For even now,
My hands are too fragile
To hold her, the renewed her
She’ll meet the sky
With determined force
And i’ll have to close
My pathetic eyes
Dreading my shameless weakness
Clinging on to her struggling strings
Which pulls me and my excuses
Up with her, leaving behind
My threads, my commitments
A formal world
A plastic world
That knows not love
And knows not life.
(She wanted to accept his love proposal, but she has obligations towards her family and society. So she hesitantly forsakes him)
Thursday, March 25, 2010
As i drop from my cocoons corner
Into this threatening transient world
I know not where evil rests
But dances with the cherubim
Uncomplaining and ecstatic
Once i love the gems and the germs
And prefer weeds to water
I learn to learn the shrewd arrows
Manipulating dice and gruesome moves
I cast aside all nurturing scriptures
Prophesy pathetic and warnings vain
I go the way my vision treads
My shadow holding the guiding lantern
Lingering occasionally in the minotaur’s maze
In search of a bridge to cross my dreams
Still i persist or rather pervades
The illusions of the world
Yet inviting and binding
Forbidding still forbearing
Then realizing the magicians trick of making truths appear from nothingness
I try to escape from the illuminating mirage
All too late, my helplessness speaks
The world’s futility
And my disability
And as i fall a struggling victim
To a gun’s callous point
Or a persistent piece of rope
Or await the end with a guilty heart
I crave for those thrown away scriptures
My manmade support hurling my dictums
Hesitant wheelchair alienating my excuses
And a rustic heart searching for the truth.
( A men’s transient life and his sense of hopelessness as he is nearing his death)