Tag: Poem

Categories
thoughts

Dreamy Eyed.


Dreamy eyed Shreya
dreams not of fantasy
As a toddler, she wanted to fly
like a butterfly high up in the air.
Did she fly?

She, as a kid
wished not to go to school
loved to be at home
sleeping and eating,
playing in the garden.
Did that happen?

The girl in her
longed to have a
hair up to her knees
the free hair would fall
into a tumble,
enhancing her charm.
Did she possess one?

Honours she achieved
all through her course
visualised herself
as a Professor, a Dean
waxing her knowledge.
Did she foray into teaching?

She entered the business.
Saw herself as a chairperson
of a conglomerate. Being involved in
successful ventures both
in her country and overseas.
Is she in such a pivotal place?

She still dreams
of winning accolades
and laurels in her writing
becoming a Poet Laureate.
Did the ambition see the light?

Dreamy eyed Shreya
gazes at the stars
even in her twilight days.

Categories
thoughts

Arockiyam, My Driver.


Born to parents
well-educated and situated,
I had the best of all,

except orthodoxy, but discipline
overwhelmed my formative years.

Arockiyam, our old driver
would drive through the busy roads,
negotiate the heavy traffic and
take me safely to school in the mornings
to the music master’s house in the afternoons
to the dance class in the evenings.

He monitored every move of mine
reported my mistakes
to my mother. Discreetly would say,
“amma, correct thangachi.”

My enraged mother
once gave me a good spanking
Arockiyam came to my rescue,
carried me away, wiped my tears
and pacified me gently.

I cursed Arockiyam
shouted at him
‘Go to hell! go and die.’

When I remember the old
man and his care,
I recall my curse, too
and silently, as if in prayer,
I cry.

 

Categories
thoughts

The Raven And The Scarecrow.


The speech above self
has subdued.
The feeling he is above all
has died.

A tame figure rises
much against the original
being Mona who decries
and slanders.

He is a raven
sheared off its feathers
bald and shrivelled
not pleasing anyway.

He hides behind
his brother Sega
another disgruntled fellow
who is like a scarecrow.

The raven and scarecrow
as they are seen around
walk hand in hand
wherever they go.

They have lost their say, they think
for that matter, they never had one
a pair of empty-headed brothers
irrationality being their valour

Having fallen into evil ways
they parade without the gusto
they are a worn out pair unhappy
who had lived largely eating out
their brother  share.

Categories
thoughts

Fusion-Blood and Beauty


Silence rules
beauty reigns
quite and solemn
Jammu and Kashmir
looks most times.

A bomb explodes somewhere,
dispels the calm.
The unexpected
militant insurgency
destroys peace.

The beautiful land
lies in a pool of blood
death stares.

An interval
nothing amiss  for a while.

The enchantment resumes
the valley looks glorious.

Stays not for long.
Again a conflict,
threat and struggle
scary it turns.

A distortion
beyond comprehension.
A scar indelible irks.
Innocence is ravaged.

A permutation and combination
defying every rule of nature.
The accord and discord
being an ironic hyperbole.

Jammu and Kashmir is a mix
of blood spilled over
and blossoms  strewn
with a fragrance – a fusion

Categories
thoughts

The Way I Shop.


Long I am enchanted
by the mother of pearl
embedded in furniture
Happened to see one
while I was travelling.

It must be in Singapore, I think
I hopped off the bus
saw on the display
a beautiful piece of art.
I crossed the road
at the instant,
not minding the honking
heard one of the drivers
curse me crying out
“Oh, bodoh apa yang kamau buat?”

The centrepiece was
lovely and exquisite
inlaid with mother of pearl
the motif being a peacock
dancing away to glory.

A coincidence:
One of my friends
called me from China
said she knows a manufacturer
who makes beautiful furniture.

Delighted, I asked her to buy
what all she likes
afraid not of the price.

She did as told
and a whole set of furniture
arrived home soon after.
She did as told
and a whole set of furniture
arrived. home soon after.
I am blessed
my friends, and protege
shop for me
keeping in mind my taste.

Categories
thoughts

Sega’s Way.


A process is going on
for twenty years
Can it ever see the light?

Whom I am to blame?
I am disappointed
my eyes  are fixed on the ground.

Sega conducts as he likes.
He is  not very knowledgeable
knows not how to conclude
leaves no space to any other.

He manipulates and interprets
the accounts and words respectively’
as he  understands
befitting his acumen.

Been authorised by the deceased
he is uncontrollable by law,
continues unopposed.

He contrives a winning smile
looks cunning and wary
I sigh and tell myself,
How long could this be?

Categories
thoughts

The Silent Splendour


The Aalamaram (Banyan tree)
spreads its branches
that touch the ground.
in a sign of gratitude
shown to the soil,
which nurtures its growth.

A paradox:
the grandeur beguiles
the humility.

A phenomenon:
the growth of the tree,
the transformation,
as seen during the seasons
explicitly in the leaves
as they turn
green, red and finally yellow
present a colourful diaspora
that astounds.

A benevolence:
The tree, as seen ,
serves as a playground for the kids,
a resting place for the travellers,
a shelter from the elements.

A munificence:
provides a habitation for the birds,
insects and the rodents
extending:security within its branches
protecting nests within its clusters.

A philanthropy:
bears fruits and nuts
feeding the birds
supplementing Man’s diet.

A Splendour:
The silence, it invokes
between the occasional rustle
and the wind prone ruffle
releases an awe
all too inspiring.

 

Categories
thoughts

The Days Of Joy.


My heart leaps up when I behold
Midway through their lunch
the children hear a roaring
and in a pied-piper rush
hurry pell-mell towards the rumble.

Low it soars.
“Aeroplane, Aeroplane”,
they exclaim, jumping
with joy.

Thrilled, they follow
the flight to as far as able.

Brief it is,
yet their excitement flows through
eyes beaming with glee,
clapping hands, whistling and cheering.

Infectious, their elation
that lingers in the buoyant lunchroom

as the energized children gobble
to beat the bell that rings
after the clock soon strikes one,

and finds the aeroplane has flown far and away.

 

Categories
thoughts

Genomes.


The similarities strike.
The mother, daughter, granddaughter
the chain of evolution:
finds a coherence in relativity
assumes a coordination in depth.

An impact,
the mother and daughter,
look alike: a profile of the two
sets the tone.
The curve is exact. The mother shows a droop.
while the daughter displays an adroit.

An influence,
the character sends a signal. Relying on the virtual,
the unflinching courage emerges.
The junior is dashing.
The senior portrays a moderation. Perhaps,
mellowed by age and experience.

The gestures, as apparent, bear an emphatic likeness.
The cameo,
the way the older one engages: twists her two fingers
places them on her lips when pensive. Vivid in my memory
The younger one knowingly or unknowingly keeps alive
this tradition.
Amazed to find the grandchild sit in a similar posture.

The fingers placed over the lips resemble a mudra ,
a quaint, but a stylish abhinaya

Knowing both of them intimately, I am amazed.
The mother is dead and gone.
She comes back with a bang through her daughter, who unassumingly
proliferates the maternal idiosyncracies.

Surprised to observe the semblance in the grandchild.

True,
the genes are predominant.
This being,
an evidence supporting the genomes.

Categories
thoughts

Life is But A Dream.


Ever drifting down the stream–
Lingering in the golden gleam–
Life, what is it but a dream?
Lewis Carroll.

Taunts
do not dissuade Veda.
Hurts deep
leave no scar.

Veda: exudes confidence
accepts kindness with good grace,
cruelty with equanimity,
bears humiliation with fortitude,
emerges unscathed.

Her inimitable drive
to acquire knowledge
together with
her passion for writing
wins her honour.

She has a vision, a perception
that looks to the stars;
when her peers
fix eyes in the dust.

Ever hopeful, she
never loses heart;
laments not for the lost
cherishes what is at hand.

She accepts life
with a twinkle in her eyes
quotes,
kayil ullathu aayiram kodi 
that which is in hand is worth
billions.
“Loyalty be thy name!” Veda,
A secret wish,  always
never do we part”.

A revised version.