it is about the namesakes
almost the same in  respects
qualification very basic
body language quixotic,
talk alike. a queer sound
 is a precursor, a drawl follows,
mincing and mumbling they carry on
an incessant chatter keeping  
those around in discomfort.

The differences being two
the initial comes foremost,
 the  most relevant distinction
one being good at heart
the other. a pack of deceit,
the former dubbed as a muff,
being plain  and nice
while the other pretends,
 a show off, revealing his ignorance.
Dramatic to the essence.

Seemingly discordant. relatively
 similar the namesakes live on
 through the decades, one harmless
 the other treacherous. World being
large enough to bear the good and bad
without any grudges,



Viewed by many as a maverick

 Unmai   did not change his ways

 for anyone. be it you and me

path being a straightforward quest.

Satyam being an idealism

he followed with a penchant

allowed no colours  or sketches

whatsoever to diminish its beauty.

Raw, as it stood  in the arena
bare as it is seen by most
bitter as it is felt by the majority

 hideous as it echoes through valleys

Unmai never missed out
Under any circumstances, be it
when facing   penalty and punishment
or  imprisonment.

Hailed”There lies a man who spoke
no lie” by those of whom
who derided  him in his lifetime
as one who knew not how to  succeed.

The mantra Satyameva jayate  according
 to Hindu Munadaka Upanishad
 rings in my ears as I  live a life
not of glory but of righteousness.

Unmai — Truth


It Is Me By Means

Terrible distraction 

Terrific pressure
Tremendous excitement
are my recent calls o

Been a shadow all through
the heydays .nestling  
in the background I am
 in the central, a pivot rather,

coordinating the activities
synchronizing the events
recording the details
all  done before by me

turning a villain,

that remained  unknown to the world
I embark into the limelight
with a gusto,  limited resource,

Awarding a grade B +
fairly  good, I hang on
with pleasure and contentment
 aspiring to achieve  distinction,

Could I? I ask myself.
 Will I? I ponder
 I should,   a resolution
that keeps me going,


A Paler Version

Flower shows and fruit shows
kept us busy those days.
My mother, an avid gardener
bagged prizes for her gardens
flowers, fruits and vegetables.

I ran up the podium  to receive
the awards and rolling cups
year after year, Newspapers
flashed the ceremony,
news reel recorded
the prize winning entries.

Back home, my friends,
congratulated me as if
I was responsible for the grandeur.
Little did I know, that the one behind
was my amma, being  too young
to understand.

 Having inherited  a part of her skill
doing  certain assignments
with the same passion as hers. those
being very few when compared to her
activities , One more, I should  add,
My stage is not as extensive
as  hers, being a miniature.

 Less fortunate by all means.


Sleep – Definition

Defined as sleep commonly
lying in bed , closing ‘the eyes
snoring at times, is
much heard of, could denote
one of staying awake
unaware of those around

That being a slumber,
while most of us live
paying no attention
to environment, to

fellow human beings

to other existences,

 it is” I and I”, always
could be termed as sleep
where the mind strives
towards a goal , a pinnacle 
in status and power.,
replenished  with glory.

he whole world sleeps
both day and night
a rotation and a revolution
seen and unseen
known and unknown
a phenomenon of validity


As I Pass

The punctuality, the discipline
 the dress code I am noted for
have abandoned me in  a quick
 as I walk like a recluse governed
 neither  by time nor by appearance,
a trace of hippyism

My gray hair flying in all directions’
as I least try to colour them
excess starch in my saree
makes me look roundish
converting me shorter than
I am in real life.

The slight imbalanced walk,
a drag and a pull has  grown
 significantly prominent
 as I negotiate climbing
up and down the stairs
leaving me graceless.

I prefer to be at home
watching programs
 in You Tube,  serials
 which promise nothing
except some light thinking,
a habit of recent..

Life hitherto would go likewise
 I assume,, Bidding adieu
 to serious thoughts
 and sensible living style
 I gradually slip into a non cohesive
status which forebodes the end.
That of living.


In The Shrine Of Thirukadaiyu

Athan  enacts a sensitive scenario,
 incredible proposal and  unbelievable disposal.
 where Yama rushes
to the sanctum  riding
a boorish buffalo .

 Yama, the one who takes life,
throws a long rope to catch
 Markandeya who nudges
close to Athan. The chord
 entwines  both,

Bewildered, Yama withdraws
 pulling both  from their seats,
 Markandeya closes his eyes in fear
Athan embraces the boy.

Markandeya , safe in the hands
of Athan, breathes life with ease.
 He has  been granted the extension of life
 he beseeched. Could this be termed
 turn of destiny?

Athan — Shiva
Markandeya – one who was destined to live till 16.
Yama  – God of Death


Few Miles To Go

It is always I do
staring and staring
so hard and deep
till my eyes fall out.

My round eyes stand out
though they are  deep set
 controversial it might be
but it is true.

That has become my daily affair
 looking far into the horizon
 jumping over hedges and fence
 over to the infinity.

Should I attribute this to age,
 solitude, or to my reluctance
 to mix with society?
 I really do not know.

Days and months pass
 I turn into a hermit
 sitting amidst chaos
 far away in mind.

Like a river I flow
knowing  well I have
got few miles to go
 a few, before I sleep,



Very much into the mundane
funds, revenue, haunt me
deadlines, commitments
tear me apart,
as I recline in exhaustion.

Rupee ebbs and falls
promises scare me, I count,
calculate, tabulate all through
‘the night burning the mid night
oil, My eyes beseech.

I keep going with a drive.
Unable to remain alert
I fall asleep and in the dream
the currency floats, assurances fly
I sink slowly into a coma .


I Resemble A Mafia

Travelling out of town
a rarity in the last two years
when most of the days I stay home
doing all sorts of activities online.

Moved out for a week and a half
the roads seem new, so do the people walking
with masks covering the mouth and nose
with distraction, most wearing under the chin.

It is life once again bubbling with energy
apprehension of the deadly virus
wanes gradually and normalcy
is more or less back though demure.

I, for one a stickler to norms
going out for the first time
with gloves and mask perfectly adorned
sense a fear to mingle with the crowd.

Distancing myself from those around,
I resemble a mafia, my eyes roam
my hands turn fidgety as I clasp
and squeeze them with force.