Category: thoughts

That of Shiva,
his dance
cosmic as seen
captivates.

Places one foot on the ground
the other balances in the air
turns and twists
an impressive movement.

He revolves
the earth rotates
can hear a thunder.
Delirious it appears.

The snake around the neck
dances to the tune.
The Ganges from his head
pours in cadence.

The moon shines from his matted hair
a silvery reflection dangles
on the Ganges as it flows,
ebullient and divine.

The vigorous dance
rocks. Denotes creation,
preservation, destruction,
illusion and emancipation.

The man and his wife of 50 years
continue the journey. 
Nothing much has happened 
being a quiet couple 
each one to each one
with the children in the course
condescend, revolt, smile and cry 
struggle and resolve, suffer and reconcile
as conspiracy stares at them.
They ran in the younger days
then slowed down for a time
while they stagger and stumble 
as they move to reach the end.
Only a few miles away.

They turn and look back 
the road they have traversed,
rough terrain that disburses 
incorrigible heat burns like a red flame.
Wonder, how did they travel without 
a hurt! Well, that be the secret of their life.
Share nothing with anyone. Bear the brunt 
with equanimity. Stoic through adversaries.
Court, cases, loans,repayments, betrayals, 
humiliations make them strong.
Their enjoyment then and now 
is the commitment they have’
an earnestness they display.
These keep them afloat

The church bells ring.
The congregation begins.
Sneha and Lina walk together
in smocked frocks.

It is Easter – the resurrection of Jesus
St Anthony”s shrine sees large crowd.
Men of different faith attend 
the sermon in harmony.

Jessica and Lina exchange 
pleasantries. Happily they walk 
towards the altar to receive the
Easter baskets.

A deafening noise 
breaks the composure.
Smoke encircles
Deadly silence.

The fumes dissipate. Stand 
witness to a ghastly carnage.
Bodies lay scattered. Badly mutilated
Sneha lies dead.

Passive I stay
watching the frenzy
with awe and fun.

The haste expressed
by the close related
women folk turns amusing.

It is a pre arranged ceremony
does not require any fanfare
yet, I see precipitation.

With sweat over their brows
they run here and there
creating an effect of earnestness.

Their histrionic skills
with acts and scenes
outbeat Shakespeare”s dramas

The two of them,
say Meera and Sheela
one with folded lips
walks with less gait
and lesser etiquette
the other known for her jerks
the hands , neck and shoulders
twist and turn unnecessarily

They try to steal the limelight
with gestures arrogant. Meera
speaks of money and materials,
while Sheela talks of her earnings
and investments. Interesting to hear
their brag and drag. They engage
with such enthusiasm, the listeners
diffuse in course leaving them alone.

Been watching them with concern,
fervently hope they should stop
or be restricted by a good samaritan
as their endless conversations
are cover ups, conceal their inabilities
and deceits. Meera and Sheela
require a reprimand very soon.

Well, I hear a voice from somewhere
” Damn, shut your mouths and be quiet”

Do I follow the sun?
or does the sun comes behind?
I really do not know.

The day before
I opened my door
not early as six.

Being eight in the morning
I turn leaving the door ajar
the Sun pricks sharp.

I make haste
he keeps pace with me
burns my back.

A day after I sit
in the patio reading
the sun strikes my face.

I fold the papers and rise,
the hands and feet get scorched
shine in the red light.

I seek protection inside
the rays track me
penetrate and scald.

Impossible I find,
as the Sun accompanies me
wherever I go.

The Sun is my constant companion.
will never let me down. Stay with me
‘through thick and thin.

Nightingale sings

It is early morn.

The chirp swings

heralds a dawn

“Ahimsa is my weapon”
says Gandhi. Tolerates
humiliation, sets aside violence
gets beaten, faces arrests,
never once insinuated
by the atrocities.

Marches to Dandi, Salt satyagraha
settles in Sabarmathi ashram
lives like an aesthetic. Spins
cloth, introduces khadi,
instils the desi spirit.
Gandhi engages.

He tours the country
pauses in Madurai.
at his friend’s
Karumuttu Thiagarajan
and his wife Visalakshi’s
home. Gandhi enjoys.

Visalakshi serves dinner
gifts a loincloth
to the leader who stares
at the cloth for a second.
Visalakshi smiles. Innocence
overlaps, A transformation.

Next moment Gandhi ties
the cloth around his waist,
removes his shirt, a perfect
picture of the Indian farmer.
Churchill’s “half naked fakir”
is born. The rest is history,

A gentle reference, have to make,
being their granddaughter, I
miss Karumuttu Thiagarajan a lot,
with whom I had been close,
never had seen grandma
Visalakshi, the noble lady.

It is fun for Andy
he tells lies in the go.
One for today,
bold and blatant
another for tomorrow,
sharp and straight.
Andy is interesting.

His excuses extend
the reasons distend.
He heaps up lies over lies
A mountain of them
confound you for a moment.
Andy captivates.

Talking unfounded
is an art. Making them
believable with an emphasize,
adding fringes to render
an avidity is a skill.
Andy is a master craftsman.

I have come across many such ones.
They are not as charming
as Andy. The way he weaves
is superior. He does so, I find
later to camouflage his grief.
Andy! I feel sad for you.

It is a turn back.
The forgotten incidents
are not too many.
Majority remains
fresh in memory.

Events of joy
do not stay for long.
Those of hurt, of grief
remain intense in mind.
Paradoxical.

The hard work I put n
as a student, the exam fever
the anxiety kindled
during the publication of results
still keep me in awe.

The pains of childbirth
the responsibilities as a wife,
a mother along with managing
the business and the house,
make me wonder.

How did I do? I was so tied up.
No time to stand and stare.
even to breathe all the more.
I have survived. Those days
place me apart from the regular.

Do I feel at ease now?
Not at all. I am still
ticking around with a aching
knees, silvery locks
and sagging skin.

The toothless smile
when I was a baby
extends further, been
converted to a teethy
flashy one.

Toothless smile
will soon come
again.