My City –Madurai

A old and very simple city.

Born in an ancient city

makes me tall and gritty

know not how long it is there

its loveliness is beyond share

old it is on all sides

roads narrow and not wide

houses are very close

well laid and in rows

people are simple and friendly

very traditional not trendy

called as a big village

as it does not cause a mad rage

has all the facilities in abundance

it holds a lot of references

a city of great fame

a place with many names

the ancient city of mine is Madurai

an old city of temples

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Ramblings

Conversion December 2, 2022

Hide and seek out theresun comes out staysfor a while, disappears. A light drizzle for minutesdownpour for seconds. dry for hours. it is the rain play. The day passes as suchtottering and tetheringNature holds control Birds foresee disasters, animals react in advance. it is man who stays ignorant. His pursuit for worldly richesdistances him from the environm […]

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Not A Nostradamus December 1, 2022

An entry ebullient.The feet that touched the head displaying a serpentine posture, the legs that struck to the cadenceexactly like the trot of the peacock the knees that squat elegantly while dancingunlike the shoddy exercise ones the hip that swirled and whirledlike a windy breeze. not too harsh. Staying stagnant.The nimble feet have turned woodentoggle an […]

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Oh! A Sunday November 30, 2022

On Sundays my abode virtually shifts to a noiseless place. A havenin heaven. Early morning my brass bolsteredred gate displays variegated items,Newspapers shoved between them milk sachet in a suspended bag.I engage in solving sudoku and crossword puzzle, hunger creates a commotion, My criminal tastebuds do not brook unpalatable food, demand the besttaken o […]

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Dumbbell November 24, 2022

I am quiet, like a hummingbird,sing and talk to myself, become quieter in days,exist like a butterfly, minding my portfolio,turn quietest in years, an antithesis of acackling duck. People call me dumbbell. Being singled out by the family,where own blood sucks like a parasitewho behave like a sly fox– treacherousengaging in conflicts creating rancourforces me […]

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Homecoming November 23, 2022

Back home after a jaunt.a fortnight of being awaysets in a longing, in spiteof the other being my own. The second, a recent additionconspicuous for its grandeurbeautifully styled, a fusion of traditionand modern architecture gives me a sense of pridenot one of belonging.Alighting at the porch, of the oldI experience a sensation, nostalgic. As I […]

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Satyagraha November 22, 2022

Soon after his return from South Africa Mahatma Gandhi participates in the Indianfreedom struggle. Shunning violence he takes the cudgelsof Satvika. He practises with faith India is freed decades later. Without weapons, without bloodshed,hitherto unknown to the world. Gandhirecovers the country from the British.

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My Dad on Wheels November 18, 2022

Cycling in the eveningsoon after I come from schoolis my play.. Counting 1, 2, 3, I flylike a whirlwind, Zoom, zoom, the bicycle runskeeping pace with my anxiety.“Hai, Hai”, I wave to my cook who brings in a glass of milk. My enthusiasm grows. as my bicycletakes off like an airplane, whir, whir, I speed. lose […]

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Eyeing November 17, 2022

My mother’s eyes stay behind follow me where I go. Overtake and come in front when I talk to strangers. The eyes give instructions,twinkle when I speak right, stare when I go wrong.cast down when I fail, caution when I am aboutto pronounce something important. They retreat when I am finished, walkwith me till I reach the […]

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I Turn a Gardener November 16, 2022

The garden looks uncouth ups and downs in the driveway, thud, thud go the vehicles. intermittent patches of grass high and low, a semblance of a beard with tuft and stubble, stones and pebbles strewn around deliver it unholy. To work affordable, I design a lengthy lawn, measuring 100 feet by 5 feet, royal palms […]

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Status Quo Continues November 14, 2022

A lifelong wait has ended I sigh with relief. Not too soon it opens and closes like a May flower, shimmers in the sun shuts up at dusk. The carousel is transient hours do not count nor days stand in a row it is years like a long tail nearly a decade, a quarter of […]

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