A Rebel?

Louder they croak, harder I shriek

Shielding my ears tight, praying for spare hands..

Where reasoning is a God made blunder

This is humanities extreme stupid peril

They create.. they demand.. they stuff it up my head..

They forget to follow it.. labeling it as rules

In it I lost everything I had.. gone and depleted

But it survived in the flimsy thinning paper

 

It stayed arrogant, bossing the mightier humans

In hands that are obscured to truth

They say abide by it, I shield more

shrieking higher until I hear or see no more

The allergic epidemic crawls up to me

They tagged me a rebel

I run away, correcting…

A rebel fights.. I reject..

In Between

{Fiction} 

There was nothing new in the journey back home; it was just like every other day. While I was mechanically driving the car, she was calmly reading a novel. She had been reading it for the past one week, day and night that almost three fourth of it was already complete, but still she held on to it selfishly like a life jacket and read on. I had once asked her what is was about, and she said building a church. I was amused to see my wife, who can get bored by my analytical skill to be entranced by a book that talked about buildings and church; God was another thing that got her bored. She does bow down in front of the beautiful deities every morning, but never has her eyes filled with tears or her face bore a look of pain. She prays for the sake of praying, some habits die hard.. 

Story-stand

{FICTION}

Sitting leisurely in the coffee shop for the past 45 minutes, time seem to slip out of my hands, but I hardly bothered.. I was alone but not lonely.. What is the difference one may ask.. Isn’t there a difference? I would reply.

The second black coffee was almost complete and I had already ordered for the third one, the boy who serves, was just peeping once in a while at my side, just to see if it was time to refill. It seemed to him that I was waiting for some one.. was I? I am not sure.. the wait had been for so long that I forgot for whom and what.. I just waited...

The Encounter

I might have been twelve then, a short skinny girl with shoulder length curly hair, the kind which can be seen often in cartoons. Every morning, mom used to put two easy piggy tails, which would curl up as soon as the comb leaves them, making me to look like the poor hideous dogs showed off by royal ladies, unlike my cousin, who was sixteen then, four years older than me and a model of beauty from every angle. She was everything that the family was proud of and me, the opposite. On holidays some relative would spot me in the muddy fields running behind some frogs and playing in the dirty water and they would drag me to my sober mother, who would worry out loud about finding me a groom. I never cared, romance was and is not my strength any way. My dad who visits us only once in an year, never took notice of this either. All of those cosmetics and beauty products that he brings would soon reach my cousin, and she would present herself to the mercy of them, making her look prettier, while I ran about showing off my tan wearing some long and loose shirt of my brother, that made me look like an inflated balloon when I ran. Any mischief in the family and hands would unanimously point at me, I was the villain and she the damsel in distress.

Together

So long has it been, so very long..

From the moment of coexistence

To this moment of weariness, we debate

Weren’t we bound with harmonious hope

Or was it an enlightening war from the start?

Felt a lurking pleasure to see your agony,

And gloated, for I am beyond mortal pain

I inflict upon you, the physical existence

By my power the senses, greed and desire

Yet I am pained!, I suffer! When you do..

I, the immortal force inside you, could feel earth,

So, let us burn together in this green hell

and rejoice, with remains washed away

There might be hope to glitter in and out

Or to subsist as charred remains of a distant existence

Better to perish once than

degrade and disintegrate every moment

my exquisite frame of life, join me,

Reconcile once more, like in the verge of birth

together let us know the unknown to be eternally unborn

Common

 Occasionally a movie or a novel,

Strikes in the midway like a blow

It has my life written all over it!

The truth that was scared in the start

takes a brave front and laughs at me

The veracity that this life is an encore,

That this situation was faced already sinks in

Un-elated and gloomy I feel

My soul is just a hollow shell of a discarded life
that someone subsisted in a better way

My sacred pride of being unique and different

Stares and flings itself onto me,

Like undigested words thrown as echo by the muffled wall

It spits in unison that “I am common”

finally I comprehend the real implication of the word!

Passion

They had known each other for more than ten to twelve years, from the late school years to the present times, they met occasionally once in an year in the maximum and all in a public gatherings, like a reunion or some special events in a common friends life. When they spoke, it looked like mere acquaintance, chit chatting lazily just for the sake of talking, but inside something stirred every time they met.

They both knew the inevitable, but never bothered to acknowledge it or delayed the acknowledgment. When a friend invites him to a gathering, he would carelessly enquire about the others who would show-up, the friend always mentioned her name with less importance, not because she was not pretty, but because he was not interested in her. But he would be there for sure, if she attended. She on the other hand never enquired but something told her of his presence at times, but she never took pain in dressing up for him, she wanted him to see her the way she is. 

Movie Magic

Courtesy: Google search

As we glided along with many others in the escalator, towards the movie theater in the 3^rd floor of the mall, uneasiness was what I exactly felt, I hate those “Moving stairs” hate or afraid I am not sure, but I am sure that, he knows. I had tailed along near the elevator (lift) thinking that he would understand, but he was too busy to notice and walked on. 

Carefully I stepped into the moving thing but not so careful to attract attention, I looked and he had already moved up few steps, why does he walk when it does the work? We were nearing the theatre and memories flooded in me, our first visit to theatre, his excitement, his enjoyment, which I can visualize in front of me like in a HD TV. But he was restless and cursing under his breath, avoiding every eyes that studied us. While I was proud to walk along with him, he didn’t relish my company, like he used to do in the yesteryears. 

Solidarity

Secluded, I tried to merge

Out of reluctance with that, which is scattered!

Lured by my discomfort I dwell into the lexis

It connect the dots that self-subsist

Determines my quintessence in-turn

As faceless entities they dwell around

Right inside and out, blending and not

Inspirited by the ordinal infiltration..

They unite, the soul and thoughts

Yet the Maverick spirit remain desolated

P.S:  This may not be an acrostic about Solidarity, but it’s about the solidarity of the soul and thoughts and how the spirit still remains deserted. So, what can we call it then?

Surprise doubled!

First it was Anand.. and now Sneha, that too within a month!!!
Thanks dear for the wonderful award..

Sneha is a bubbly girl, with honest post that are as adorable as she is! :) She also surprises with some wonderful serious topics too..Keep writing gal..

So the legendary 7 things about me.. let me reveal that I am as lazy as I can be.. :)  So here it is.. check this out only if you are interested.. :)

Thanks again Sneha.. its a wonder as of how you find time to blog along with your studies..

Unsung hero

 If only life were a battle field

You would have won it

With no armour or shield

Save by your uncommon wit

Territories would be conquered

With just your skill and brain

Though mocked even by kith and kin

That your intellect is just acquired

You left the battle field as unsung hero

You didn’t fight enough, they chatter!

Talents not showcased or bragged about,

Doubted is the intellect in your worn-out head

You walked head bowed down

For they didn't care to know

that you are a family man

who forgot to chase your precious dream..

 

Am I Versatile?

Am I a Versatile writer.. er blogger? I don’t know.. But my dear friend Anand thinks so… and I am extremely happy for that..!!! 
My first blogger award..!

Before I start, a few words about Anand's Musings.. they are refreshing and thought provoking and always read them with a cup of coffee.. don't know why! :) He says "Life is like that" and doesn't push it too hard either..

And as a rule, I am supposed to say 7 things about me and pass it on 

So here it goes, 

The Untold

I didn’t know why I accept Deepak’s request, I should have politely refused saying my job in Chennai was of tight schedule and I had no time. But things get complicated as we grow up, it becomes harder to refuse to siblings especially when it is an elder brother, and when I don't want to cut off the the link. "Relations are like paper as days goes, even a mild touch can break them" that is my papa’s view and mine too. Also, it was a sensible and simple request, go meet Niranjan get something for his one year old child, convey my heartfelt condolences for his wife’s sudden demise, go back to the hotel room, pack and off to Trivandrum, so, my work in Chennai would be completed along with my brother’s wish to soothe his best pal. I accepted.

Niranjan was not just Deepak’s best pal, he was also our family friend, but that was before Niru got Medical seat, and Deepak didn’t, he was cursing the forward caste of ours which is forward name sake only. But I secretly feel that even if he was of different caste, he wouldn’t have secured a seat like Niranjan.

When Niru went to study in Chennai they shifted from Trivandrum to Chennai and thus ended the link between the families, it is always like that when there is only one strong link between the families and when that link itself is formed by kids and when the parents don't care much.

If our roads meet

The foot steps, the aura, the smell
Bred the familiarity ablaze
Forgetting the long said farewell
Glowing anticipation arose
 
Welcomed by the enigmatic smile,
I stare for, its picture perfect
I doubt reality, still you stand
Regretting the worthless fights

My face to you is a puzzle
and you turn away in disbelief
Leaving my heart in a dazzle
You move away fearing grief
 
Like a Greek goddess I remain,
Transfixed into a melancholic rock
Waiting for you to return when
Rejection or reconciliation is no bother!

Why GIRL?

I have been thinking to write this for so long a very long time.. but somehow words failed.. or may be plain laziness I am not sure why..

Any way,  an incident provoked it.. A small incident.. here it is…

Although I don’t get very close or personal to many of my office colleagues, I do get along very nicely with them.. so, we.. a small group of ladies of different age went down for Ice cream.. 2 of them were married ladies, and among them there is one, I admire the most, I like her for her talent in work and also because of her uniqueness, she is married and behaves so too.. but being in a corporate world, she interacts very well with everyone, including guys, and I don’t see there is any problem with that.. we are not in the 60’s were it is unthinkable.. we are in a world were every one is equal.. So coming back to……. Ice cream, we saw a colleague (a male) and my friend invited him too.. since he was busy he politely refused..

An answer

Courtesy: Google search

Finally an answer to my long pondered question.. read "Yet another Onam" to know more..

I did a few research here and there (no I am very lazy to go to a library and explore so, I was Glued to google.. and researched.. there were many theories but this answer some what pacified me..

Here is the answer I took from a Website called “Haindava Keralam..”

Stillness

Sucking into the depths of silence

Tears apart the ravaged still heart

Inactivity of limbs and mind

Leading nowhere, the standstill thoughts

Lamenting the drive of existence

No hunger, desire, love or passion reigns

Elusive is the urge to change

Sickness of this limbo overwhelms..

Silence rules the fragile lifeless existence!

A Part of me..

Listening to the sound of water, not the clatter of the waterfall or the periodic roaring of the waves in the outer sea.. but the rhythmic drop by drop melody of the leaking water tap reminds me the solitary thoughts that ran away resembling the leaking tap, I collected it in a colorless vase and the water is clear.. yet gone waste.. just like the forgotten chronicles.. Why this boasting? Am I and my scribbling that worthy? Indeed it is at least for me the protagonist of my life.

This manifesto of mine are not just abstract thoughts, they are a testimony of my life too.. “A part of me..” resides in here in each of my writings, that is why this collection of fiction is categorized to be PERSONAL . Is my life and daily events captured here, not exactly but a part of this vainglorious spirit is strewn apiece… the thoughts, the mood, the view, the emotion, the life too, but never fully, as I love to see the excitement of a child to peek into someone’s half wrapped gift. Judge me if you want, but never trespass my life..

I am getting addicted to this strange friendship formed between many faceless thoughts arising from different heads like yours and mine.. lets share it but not judge.. 

When a friend with anxiety enquired about my well being in life the reason was my writings, the melancholy in them, the darkness in them.. even when I felt elated about the care, it concerned me.. Life is dark there is no clear demarcation of Black and white people there are shades of grey in every one, some know It, some doesn’t seek in.. to know it.. So why should I write a fairy tale? When world is not exactly one? After all love and happiness is not just life, there is Shadow and Jealousy why shouldn’t we scribble when we are sensible enough to feel it?

An object’s beauty is in the eyes of the admirer, so let my hands engrave.. let my thoughts enjoy the newly found freedom.. let me chuckle when some one else’s eyes sees it in the same way..  Let the part of me that loves to fly away.. fly as needed.. why confine..

Between borders

Confined within the dark recess

Enchained with brittle coirs

Thrives the fragile and delicate soul

Obscured to naked eyes

Looks gay to a bystander

The Fiery scorching and

Turbulence felt only at deep end

By the one betwixt

Tranquility greets from across

Myriad pleasures the heart seeks harder

Verdict never in thy hands

Benumbed thy suffers in dark domains

Bogus serenity shoulders apathy

And life swarms as in an illusion

With joy, peace and belonging

Endured just as chimera

P.S. This picture was taken by a friend and it inspired me to write the above poetry (if it can be called so..) Looking at the flower and the fence, I imagined the borders in peoples life, the mind, the physical borders the fences.. (India.. Pakistan the state of Kashmir..) and so on...

The Train

Giggling out loud and chattering like bunch of hungry birds, Mithra and Pauline boarded the train in a rainy evening on their way back home. They had a long way to go almost every day, out of which Mithra traveled more, the loneliness was overwhelming that she always clung on to Pauline who would be there to accompany at least for an hour, after which she would travel alone for half more hour until she would reach home tired and weary. They had nothing serious to chat, the topics were common and redundant, yet the girls enjoyed their journey back home every day.

Mithra was cursing her colleagues quite out loud when Pauline nudged her. Mithra panicked and looked around, to see no recognizable faces from office, except those familiar frames that she sees every day in train and never bothered to move up a level from a smile and a nod.  She looked questioningly at Pauline who was intensely eves dropping conversation of two ladies nearby. Mithra pinched her, she shushed back and listened more.

Jealousy

Brimming with swelling fury 

Aching enough to twist love to acrimony

Despised overtly by all and sundry

Even by those who cleverly mask

Bitter is the persistent sensation

Hoisting high upon slightest provocation

Unhealed wounds deeply inside

Wishing just to harm every one

Reveals vulnerability on pondering

Just a basic craving for love and care

Expression of feeling made abundant

Yet left unattended and unheeded

The Writer

Today’s headlines:
“A Mediocre writer’s wife, jumps into the list of most celebrated writers, with her first gripping fiction”

Before 5 years..
He was a fiction writer, one who writes for a living, most of his works were novels or collection of short stories and were just mediocre hits. But the royalty and his fixed deposit interest money that he received every month were more than enough to carry on with life. They were married for 5 years, and she still thanked her deceased father for the fixed deposit, what would have happened to her life if that dowry money was not converted to FD was still a nightmare.


However, she was a beloved wife in all the aspects. She never complained out loud, and was always by his side to soothe him whenever his books sank in the market. He on the other hand, was a loving husband, and thankful to her by heart for the support, but that made him disappointed with his life. He was a brilliant student and as he graduated with flying colours his sole aim was to become a great writer, nothing clicked and he ended up becoming a mediocre writer. He wanted to burst out the bubble, and prove to the world of his talent.

Yet another Onam

Ona Sadhya

Another year and another Onam.. yet my question is unanswered...!


Being a mallu, Onam is one of my favorite festival, as a kid that was another excuse to take leave from school with parents readily accepting it (it was not a state announced holiday back then in Chennai), eating on banana leaves, wearing new dressed, best payasam by my mom..! who wouldn't love it..


The best part was that I was in charge of the outer decorations and I enjoyed putting my flower kolams in front of the house to welcome Mahabali.. every year it was the same, mom cooking, me decorating and then we invite many of our neighbours and my class mates for ona sadhya.. only once I celebrated Onam with all my cousins and relatives, it was for a cousins wedding.. the fun and enjoyment was amazing! otherwise it is just our family with our neighbours in Chennai, that is fun too! Holidays in Chennai and Kerala doesn't sync..


Ok so why is onam celebrated..


Long long ago.. there lived a good king descended from the asuras (Demon) called Mahabali.. he was ruling Kerala peacefully, but the king of heaven Indra for some technical reason (peer pressure i guess) didn't like him, and pleaded to Lord Vishu to eradicate the demon king.. Though Mahabali king was a good fellow, Lord had to do it to wipe out the world off evil people.. back then line was visible between black and white and no grey existed..!
So lord (in the form of a dwarf -Vamana) sent Mahabali to hell, however a boon was given that every year, he can come and visit his people on the Onam day!! so the sadhya (feast) and the floral decorations were to welcome the hypothetical arrival of the king..!


Now what is my question? for that I have to describe another myth.. its about how Kerala was created. parasurama was another form or avatar of Lord Vishnu and as the myth goes as he threw his mighty axe to the Arabian Sea, the land called Kerala emerged..


ok here comes my question, If Kerala was created by Parasuram the 6th Avatar of the Lord, how did Mahabali rule the state during the time of Vamana the 5th avatar?


Ps: I am not mocking any of my culture here, it is indeed a serious doubt that exist in my mind for so long Any way what ever the reason may be it is the day to celebrate a state ruled by a very good and democratic dictator.. where as what we witness now a days is the vise versa..


PS: Please read An answer for, I got my answer!!




Oops I forgot HAPPY ONAM! :)

With my cousins..

My Awkward Moments Part 3

 How embarrassing is to forget some one’s name or face, or being unable to correlate and match the name and face up?
I was lucky or unlucky enough to be in both the giving and receiving end of the problem and surely it was one big awkward moment, one thing is though the brain works like search engine to match up the face and find the name.. or vise versa, my face would give away, by a blank expression. I know I am very innocent! lol

Hailing from a big family, and visiting them only during school year end vacations, I was not pretty sure of many relatives, and when I go to some marriages with my mom, I see aunties and uncles asking me if I remember them.. at times I give a blank sheepish idiotic smile and nod no, but they later told my parents that it was offensive to not remember your close relatives (I don’t know how my fathers uncles, wife’s brothers mother Phew! Becomes close Kin.. I am still not so familiar with the once removed or twice removed cousins either..)

So, I took in another approach, when they ask me, I would smile a lot, and say “how could I not know you anuty?” that did get me some so cutes’!

He Wanders

 

As an ubiquitous figure

He wanders hither and thither

On the fields, along the roads

Wherever his mind goads

Disgusted with life as lived

He walks bare and half naked

Not showing off in fineries

He is robed just enough to conceal

Covered in dirt and dusty grime

He eats to live regardless of time

Sky above and earth below as hovel

He cares not on the place to dwell

Is life’s essence cracked after all

By this roaming seeker?

Is there eminence in

the crazy lunatic snigger?

PS: I saw a very old man, supposed to be homeless on the streets, his face showed wisdom and clarity, that was missing in his appearance, I tried to decipher his thoughts and I humbly dedicate this to him, my dear old man wandering in the streets...

A Monsoon Coffee

Her morning chores though not much were finished, she didn't have much work as she was an independent middle aged women living all by herself and this many years of practice made her perform it monotonously and mechanically faster.

It was her favorite hour now, the tea time, monsoon rain was beating lethargically on the half opened window sill, and she sat next to it, with her freshly brewed coffee, spying her neighbours little garden of lovely roses drenched with rain. The sight soothed her so much that it has been her routine for many years to sit along the window side, and watch the plants evolve through different season...

Her serene solitude was lost by a call in bell. She was startled, that was weird, she never gets visitors that too on a stormy day with doubt she opened the door, the first thing that greeted her were few rain drops, the floor was getting drenched, she half closed the door and stood with only her face peering out. The house owner never fixed the porch and so it was hard for anyone to stand there, in normal days they face the direct sun, and in days like these they were taking a second shower.

She looked up to see a boy or per say a gentle man in his early twenties.. he was trying in vain with one hand to stoop the rain falling in his head and in other held a book. He smiled at her to which she gave him a questioning glance..

“Hi Madam, can I speak to Nithi?” he enquired, while still trying hard to protect himself from the falling rain.

Her eyes brightened, now she knows why the lad was there, “No.. she vacated from here last month.” so saying she closed the door.

Nithi was her paying guest for the past 4 years, and never brought a guest, occasionally some friends drop by, but she couldn’t remember the face of this lad. A thunder and few lightning shook her as she sat down to enjoy her coffee.

Again a bell...

Just go...

Good byes are heartless

Valedictory words are needless

Hugs and kisses seem soulless

Handshakes appear juvenile

So Just go..

Do not linger  for last glance

Or fumble for explanations..

For these are futile gestures

of something that never nurtures,

So just go..

Don’t brood over my plight

There would come a day

When your image fades

and withers from my mind…

Until then just go..

There would come a day

When I can overlook you in a crowd..

When I can stare into your eyes and smile

Without a pang or missing a beat

And walk away as mere stranger..

 until that day just go..

As you did today...!

Shadow

 

As a dark and depressing hollow veil,

it walks beneath me unaltered

It stalks when I move

Stays still with me too

The color I wear, my emotion, my thought
Hold same blank impervious gaze in it
Is it a reminder of an unhealed wound?

Or the fore teller of a looming catastrophe

In my lonely nights, there is a recurring illusion

of two gleaming eyes peering at me

Devilish smile and dark hands engulfing

As the last ray of light flickers and dies
 

But my spirit and faith still remain unbeaten

That which cannot be shaken

That which remains and battles
until the last ray of hope dies down..

Splash of Colors

Emotions are hard to hide

Even harder to decipher

If only I could express myself in colors

I would be free of all the revulsion piled on me

My anger would be flaming orange..

Burning with vitality that washes away quickly..

For me peace and green go together..

Like the soft bristled meadow

Inviting to rest in peace..

My sorrow would be Grey

Resembling the stormy sky

Waiting to pour down and clear off

Yellow suits my passion

Bright with vigor of love and desire

Blue would symbolize my evil side

Like the miraculously calm deep sea 
hidden with inconceivable peril

Then I would be one black shadow

Filled with all the colors in the world

and yet again become

Hard to hide and

Even harder to decipher

Be deluded..



Be in a delusion if reality is far more bizarre

Weave a world for yourself,

Where you are the king and life is a fairy tale

Throw in your favorite fantasy!!

Neither restrict nor control

Don’t logicize

Let your spirit generously mosey

Live fullest in there...

In the real world

People may despise you..

They may say you are unstable

Just smile at them..!

They will never know how reverent your world is..

Mother India

When your rosy feet touched me for the first time

I knew that I am a mother again

You fell down and got up for your first step

I knew that you never give up

When your feet reached the finish line in the race

You kneeled down and kissed me!

My motherly heart was swollen with pride

I adored you just like my other son

Who spilled his blood on me for ME..

Yet, you spit on me and say,

No one can change this country

And walk away seeking better prospects

I weep silently, without complaint

As you follow the path of your other inactive brothers

In betrayal, in assault, in poverty, in terror… I weep..

I don’t hate you.. I never can..

For I am your Motherland

Who knows only to LOVE!

Forgotten

Ability to forget is a blessing

Being forgotten is a curse…

When I toil in the curse

You some how seem to be blessed..!!

Confession

Short story

The Bed was too soft.. but his conscience was too hard to let him sleep peacefully.."

Courtesy: Google search

It was pricking him.. Suffocating him.. her fair hands under his neck seem to gag him.. he should tell her, because he can’t live with the guilt.. no matter what! He got up slowly and switched on the light. His wife who was very tired was awaken suddenly, and irritated when the light hit her eyes like sharp needles.. Their 5 yr old son have been crying from the evening.. and it was tiresome for her to calm him down, and by the time he slept it was 2.. and now she was awake within half hour. He didn’t eat too neither did she, it might have been because of the change in place. They have come to her parent’s house only a day before and her exhausting body was weighing her down to take rest..


"What?" she asked in a lazy tone,  rubbing her eyes, that still couldn’t get accustomed to the light. He didn’t reply, he sat like a dumb fool staring at her..
"Whaaat do youu want? water? is that why you switched on the light.. why don't you go and take it yourself dear.. don't you see how tired I am..?" she kept speaking still reluctant to open her eyes..


"It was me dear..! It was me who did it.." he murmured..
"Did what?".. she knew before she finished her sentence.. she blinked and stared at him.. "Was that you?.. Oh my.. oh my.. " her face was restless and she was staring down then she looked sharply at him and asked, "along with?" when she didn’t get the reply she stressed again "with? Were you alone? Dont tell me that you were alone? you disgusting fellow.. who was it with u?" she stared at his chubby face with revulsion and contempt...
"No no.. not alone..hmm your.. your sister..!.. I.. am..sorr.."
"Stop it.." she shouted.. "with my sister.. my sister.. Oh my GOD! " she said closing her mouth with both the hands like she was going to throw up.. "How did I not see that coming.. with both of your similarity in taste and everything.. "