Worried I Am

My worries seem unfounded.
I am disturbed. I turn, flip.
I get up in fright.

Of late, my subconscious mind is at work.
Waking up the middle of the night.
I cry, “Oh, I have to do my homework,
it is only half done”

I rush to my work table. My table is clean.
No exercise lies unfinished”
Have I misplaced them”

I sit confused.  Soon realisation dawns.
School! I exclaim. I look at myself.
A wry smile emanates. I am old.
Reconciling to my status,
I retire to my bed.

A situation that intrigues me quite often.
My mind compares. The sensitive schoolgoer of yesteryears
with the unwitty woman at present,

“Do not drag”‘ my mind signals.
“Perform or perish”, It commands. I understand,
I have unfinished duties that are to be accomplished
before I go to sleep.

Meenie’s Husband’s Seventieth Birthday.

It is Meenie on the move
involved in the celebrations
being her husband’s birthday.

He being not a young chap
has lived seven decades
and three years more.

Meenie calls it as seventieth. Perhaps she
wishes her hubby to be younger
by a full three years. Not much of a difference, anyway.

She invites and distributes gifts to all her kith.
The invitation boasts of culinary dishes
from Burma, Indo-china and Sri Lanka.

I expected chefs from these countries
would fly to her place and prepare the food.
I could see none of them on that day.

She plays host with pride.
It is remarkable.  I feel in a sense.
She forgot a family en mass- four “pullis”( numbers)
as they call in her community.  None would dare do it.

The family is one of some standing
not a mean one to forget.

A month later, her game is out.
Meenie’s design is exposed. Many around come to know.
Having done it with a deceit in mind, she covers saying
the handy epithet. ” I forgot”.

The family pays attention. Not for the gift
which has no great monetary value. It minds
the significance, being one.of a recognition.

Meenie calls the lady of the family.
Tells she has done a mistake.
She did not know, where to give the gifts.

The lady curtly replied,
“It is all over. Do not bother, I will not accept.
I do not live in the pavement.
I reside in a house which has an address.

We will likewise, not count
the three”pullis” of your family.
That is the end. No more of it. ”

The humiliation she hurled
has returned with a force.

Realms Of The Heart

It is a look inward
an endoscope of the mind
seeing what lies deep.

The deeper it travels
the more it is invasive
an unravelling of the unfathomable.

Did I really get into?
I deliberate as the hours pass
feel there is much more beneath.

How many untold experiences
lie in the realms of the heart?
Will I be able to retrieve?

The anger that dissolved
the grief that diffused
the happiness that lay buried.

All of them spurts out
I am precarious and foreboding
I wish they remain where they are.

Let them amalgamate with the infinity.
Let them decimate and die.
Let them remain untold .

Demanding And Rewarding.

It is a place strange
hot in the mornings,
rainy in the evenings,
warm in the nights,
no water shortage
provides a good revenue
an apparent blessing.

It is Nature’s design.
I have to live out of necessity.
No way to escape.
My body burns,
my mind relaxes,
being a contradictory sensation
both demanding and rewarding.

I know not how to overcome
think and think all the while
never could solve
I am worried about my physic.
The wear and tear are too many.
Oh! help me to resolve.


Chinappa Calls.

Chinappa walks royal with a silver betel box.
It is a year since he came.

The family greets him. He is their trusted astrologer

The next morning he is up.
Nice to see him with a dhoti around his waist.
His bare chest is smeared with ash.
He keeps munching the betel leaf,
spitting the juice in the spittoon.

Chinappa is at his job.
As goes the tradition horoscopes are cast after the child’s first birthday.
He sits erect before the low desk ornated with brass.
A [i]panchanga [/i]lies open.

He calculates mentally.
First, adds the years, then multiplies the [i]vinadis[/i]
divides the[i] nalis.[/i] Marks the Dasa, the transits of the [i]girahas[/i].

Sips hot coffee in between. Energy renewed,
he works on the [i][i]kattams[/i][/i]. Places the planets in each one of the twelve boxes.
The ascendant or the Lagna is the starting point of the horoscope.

He studies the aspects, details them in a hardbound notebook.
He works on the horoscope for three days.
The life predictions were documented.

He smears turmeric on the edges of the notebook.
reads the salient features that include the[i] pariharams [/i]
The family listens to him keenly.
He is an expert. He takes no reward.
Quoting him,
Accepting money from you is akin to selling my skill.
If I do that my foretelling skill would desert me”.
He laughs.

Hope he would make it next year too.

The Potential

The jackfruit tree in my garden
planted decades ago
grew in size all the years
tall and huge it looks.

Leafy and imperious
a beautiful sight in all
Every now and then
I used to go close
to find if they blossomed

I lost interest in watching,
the tree grew tall.
Its branches resembled a canopy.
A great sight to behold.

Yesterday was different.
Seed like tiny buds hung.
Thought it could be the leaf curls.
Reaching near saw the little pale green ones
hanging in reliable intervals.

The tree has shown its potential.

Theorem Of Happiness.

Laugh, the world laughs with you.
Laugh to your heart’s fill.

Laugh when you are happy
being an outcome quite normal.

Laugh when you are sad,
though difficult to ensure.

Your smile will sustain you
relieve you of your pain.

The theorem of happiness as said
is a way to come out of depression.


My country is for me,
no one else can come
quoths the  American president.

I will construct a wall
allow not any Mexican enter
cries the U.S leader.

I have suspended seven country nationals.
They cannot enter the U.S territory,
dictates the newly elected leader.

What is this called?
I try to find the exact word.
an antonym for Globalisation.

it is hard to seek.
Could it be regionalisation?
narrower still- internalization.

It is shrinking.
The closing of doors and windows,
allows not the wind to enter.

To Himself

The  noise of the gadgets
right from the morning
heard,  by men, with no grudge
as it turns out to be a necessity.

Grinding and blending,
whistling and frothing,
clattering and clanking
keep one involved.

In the milieu, the natural tunes
being the tweets of the sparrows
the squeak of the parrots
go unheard almost.

The haste and the chase
mankind finds itself
leave the race in a design
alienating from the environment.

The fever and fret,
the grumble and the regret,
place humanity in a prison
away from Nature.

The species around him,
either aviary or aquatic,
be the ones tagged to the grounds
live in harmony with the surroundings.

Distancing himself man is left alone,
knows not what to do in times of need,
finds himself battered by disasters.
Finally, lets himself devoured by them.