My Grandmother

It is not a story
nor a tale fairy
a dedicated life
of a devoted wife
silent into the spree
never was free
always under the husband
never thought of any refund
with him in his achievements
VisalakshiThiagarajan quiet was her involvement
the man rode to success
she was away from access
honoured he in his life time
remained she unseen
died she unknown
into the glory all too soon.


Thrown Away

I sit a long way away
my children in continents
not the same but different
not in the same hemisphere
one in the north up above
the other in the south down below
the third one in the centerworld
and I a little further towards east
all of us thrown all over the world
seems interesting in a way
never too easy to move about
pangs of separation haunts most
should have visa to see each other
what a life I am into in a stroke
I bemoan and curse myself
the world has become global
the travel still holds tight
regulations takes the toll
commercials find their way
humanity remains stranded.


The Dull

The dull weather around

little sun and little warmth

very sultry at times

humid all through

calls for a walk around

Walk to the aisle

stand there for a moment

look across the garden

that seems duller still

leaves droop and grass dry.

Return to the patio

sit there with a book

peruse the pages

they appear dullest of all

push the book away .

Lie down on the bed

eyes stuck to the roof

a picture traverses the mind

very prosaic and uninteresting

slumber escapes in a way.

The dull I say

abounds and overwhelms

sadness descends slowly

know not why it happens?

an uneasiness prevails all day.