Month: January 2017

“You do not have a sharp nose.
It is blunt and rounded.

Your eyes are big
deep-set and dark.

You are short and flabby
with broad shoulders.

You are prosaic in looks
could trace nothing poetic.

You are not slender
neither elegant nor graceful.”

She mocks at one
who embodies charm.

It is a tease, for fun she says
Could that be said always?

The cocks which kept me happy
running around all the time
pecking on the worms and insects
helped me keep my garden clean
encountered a villain in the form of a stray dog.

In the early hours a wild dog
jumped over my wall
overturned the cock’s house.
The latch gave way.
My robust cock was bitten.

A wail – a pathetic cock a doodle doo
woke us all up in the morning
The watchman ran to save the cock.
The dog snarled at him with its blood soaked teeth.
Pounced on him. The old man was jolted.

He drove the dog out with a big staff.
The cock lay in a pool of blood.
Its white feathers turning crimson red.
A hoary sight!.

That was the end of “My good fat cock”.
The docile one moves about quietly.

No more of chatter, fun and bustle.

In a circle of people with little insight and learning,
Rena is the one with in-depth learning.

They find her to be a strange being different in all ways
least knowing they are mediocre in most ways

She is a misfit among the crowd, a wise one
but being labelled as dull one

Poor Rena has to live knows not what to do?
She cries. What else can she do?

She is not the only one in this world who buries her feelings deep.
Many such Renas are there who hold untold expressions. deep.

The music I am listening stirs my soul.
I feel I am the sole.

I see none beside me
It is me and me.

My eyes turn moist with tears.
The song is soulful and tears.

The melody penetrates resulting in an exuberance
Could experience an exhilarating exuberance.

I am in absolute bliss.
Great is the bliss.

Missing out has been a way of my life.
Could I be alone being so?
I deliberate.

As a kid, I lagged behind my friends.
I came last in running races.
I was slow.

In my school, I came not to the forefront
I jumbled the tenses.
I was unclear.

At home, my siblings overtook me
I was denied the rightful.
I was deceived.

In business, I competed in vain.
I tumbled unceremoniously.
I failed.

Neither I became a runner
nor an achiever academically.

Either way, I am average
reached not a status.

However, I am a human. Unbeatable,
full of kindliness and understanding.

I have earned a lot.
Monetarily not much.
Too much in the abstract sense.

My life has been a worthy pursuit.
Great! I claim.

Having lived a life of content
while missing out many an opportunity.

The cocks of mine play truant.
Asleep in my bedroom one afternoon,
heard some peculiar sound.
Cared not, as I was exhausted.

A while later could feel the movements
someone running round and round my bed.
Woke up. Found the two cocks beside me.
Shooed them off. Not an easy task altogether.

I smelt something foul.
Got up again to find their poop all around.
Exasperated, cleaned the bedroom.
That was the end of my sleep.

I thought cocks were easy to rear.
Not anymore I think so.

Boiling of rice with jaggery and milk,
cashew, raisins and cardamom
a way to celebrate the festival–Pongal.

A thanksgiving to Surya (Sun God).
An abundant harvest with good returns
mark the onset of January.

All that grows and flourishes,
all those who enjoy and revel.
Owe their gratitude to Surya.

It is an offering to the energy.
that made everything possible.
A grand ceremony that turns into a festival.
Pongal or Makara Sankaranthi as it is called.

The month of January turns cold.
See no frost or snow but being cool.

My town is hot throughout the year.
The sun pouring and piercing through.

The sky is overcast in January. Washed clothes remain wet for long.
On other months they get scorched in less than an hour.

My starched saris were left on the lawn to dry.
I forgot my tow cocks.They were circling the garden.

An hour later I came out on some errand.
“Oh! no”, I cried in dismay. The cocks were trodding on my saris.
Made a mess of the neatly stretched ones.

Ran to shoo them away. They flew low and sat on the swing.
They would barge soon after I leave.

I had to be on watch the whole day to keep them out.
At that moment the expression friends turn foes crossed my mind.

The Cocks I have
loiter from dawn to dusk
pecking the worms
frightening the squirrels.

Those who come home feel
I rear them for my consumption.
it is but a natural phenomenon.
I do not blame them.

I want to clear my stand.
I am a born vegetarian.
a vegan to an extent.
I have not eaten even an egg.

Bought a four of the chickens
half a year ago. My little granddaughter
had a nice time when she was with me.
Two of them died early.

These two have grown.
They entertain me with their play.
Never do they break the quietness
except cawing occasionally.

Amazing they are .
My staff have an eye on them
They pester me to give them off
Could turn into a sumptuous lunch for them.

I am keeping them at bay.
Know not what will happen,
when I move out of my home,
even for a few days. I am Obsessed.

My two cocks
being my recent possessions
whom I thought to be harmless
turned violent in the morning.

The boisterous one
loitering in my lawn
caught hold of a squirrel.

Holding it in its paw
picked it with its beak
ripped open the skin.

The squirrel squeaked
finally, let out a cry.
I rushed to the spot.

Before I could reach
the squirrel had died.

The tranquillity, I experienced
the day before has turned into a turmoil.
I am disturbed.