Wednesday, July 20, 2016

A Day gone by

The clock ticks fast
She slyly glides away,
Clad in good byes
More wistful than merry.
The stars give her an impish wink
As the brightening half moon
Entices the weary mind
To cede her the lost moments.
She peers through gaping holes
In glorious memoirs
that could have been.
The pensive man rests
His bent back on
Hard sack of half done jobs
And promises to be tended.
Sleepy eyes search
Behind their closed lids
Across the dark blank ceiling.
Hidden, she watches amused.
In the swelling stillness
Time slows.
The clock ticks loud.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

கண்டீரா பரம்பொருளை?

நெற்கதிர்களின் அலைகளில்
உழைப்பின் உருவம்,
பூக்களின் புன்முறுவலில்
குழந்தைபோன்ற களிப்பு,
அகண்டும் குறுகியும்
அயராது வளைந்தோடும் 
ஓடைகளின் ஒலியில்
சளைக்காமல் உதவும் உள்ளம்,
அவை சேரும் நதிபதியில்
இனம் புரியாத ஆழம்
குளிர்ந்த வெண் பனித்துளியில்
சமநிலையான அன்பு,
அது படரும் உயர் குன்றை நோக்கி
திகைப்புடன் தோன்றிய மேதகைமை,
எண்ணிலா உயிரிகளில்
சிருட்டிப்பின் இரகசியம்,
பிரபஞ்சத்தின் ஒரு பகுதியேனும்
பாரதத்தில் பார்த்த பின்
பரம்பொருளை உணராதவரும்
உண்டோ ?


Haven’t you seen the Divine?

In the waves of the golden crops -
a tangible form of effort,
In the smile of the blossoms -
A childish mirth,
In the swelling and tapering,
winding but incessantly flowing
brook’s gurgle -
an eternally helping heart,
In the wide ocean into which they flow -
a mystery unfathomable,
In the chilly white snow flakes -
tender Love with equanimity,
In the peaks on which they fall -
the majesty to watch in awe,
In the teeming multitude of life –
The mystic secret of Creation…

At least a quantum of the cosmos
Having witnessed in Bharat, but
Yet to realize the Divine -
is there anyone left?

PS: Had submitted this as an entry in a poetry competition ("Poetriotism") at office .  Wanted to look at a different meaning of 'patriotism' - away from the cliched chest-thumping, proud-of-the-success-stories versions and the negative critic's perspectives. India is what it is mainly because of it's Spiritual leanings.
The Tamil piece is the original and the English version, as mentioned, is meant to be the translation. 

Praising a Martyr

Here is one
a martyr
The Brave One
they said…

And he smiled
tears of selfless joy
faced the snowy summit
his ideals
and moved ahead
merging with the White

Fine, let’s get back to
Our lives
someone else is willing to be
a martyr
the brave one
they said…

PS: Originally posted in 'A Sentinel Opinion' . Now, with a few changes.
Had submitted this as an entry in a poetry competition ("Poetriotism") at office .

With another 26/11 remembrance approaching, media will go over the slo-mo flag flying and heart-touching moments and we will call ourselves patriots for a day. But, do we really know what it means?

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

கவிதை... கவிதை...

எட்டுத் திக்கில் ஒன்றில் இருந்தாவது

நான்கு பேர் வாழ்த்த

இரண்டு நிமிடத்தில்

ஒரு சிறு கவிதை எழுதினால் போதுமா?

inspired by: obvious need for creating readers and this

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Sleepless in Sitlapakkam

To start with, neither do I live in any place called ‘Sitlapakkam’ nor is this based on a place that might be called so. I picked up the name just because it sounded sort of rhyming with a Hollywood movie title. However, yes, this has got to do something with being sleepless.

The last couple of days, the weekend I was waiting for, so that I could catch up with some well-self-earned rest (read “sleep”), ended up me being restless and sleepless. Thanks to the electricity board, especially the way (Do they have a way? It is more like random experiments!) they go about doing those “power cuts”. Most part of the day on Saturday left me gasping for breath as the heat seemed to be creating a vacuum at ground level. The trees too seemed to be facing the same predicament and they remained static. Ironically, when I moved in to this apartment, the most appealing part of the option was that there are so many trees around; there is one just outside my bedroom balcony and another on the other side of the road. It was like “trees… trees… everywhere… not a hint of breeze to feel”. And it remained that way the whole weekend! The house broker had promised that this area has “a lot of important people” and so, whenever there is a power cut, the power supply would be restored immediately! Ah, they are good candidates for being Candidates. Anyway, the trees cheated me and the “important people” had mysteriously moved out from this area – the EB probably knew their movement and decided not to restore the power supply.

The power cut actually starts with a taunting game of phase-switching (or whatever it is called).

“Since you anyway have three phases, you can live with power on only one or two of them, right? So, we decide to play around with them. Ok?”

And so, it starts with making you move from room to room to sit under the one fan in the house that would work. And then, suddenly, there will be a complete shut down. You sit patiently doing more than one of the following: wondering “what is happening?”; cursing “them”; commenting that this is all due to the changing climate (“you know that Kodaikanal is very hot now? The silver falls has become dry?”); wondering if you could call the EB and enquire (I googled and found that they themselves had asked, quite interestingly, “During Power failure, whom I should complaint?”);searching for all the magazines to fan yourself; busily scratching and slapping yourself as a result of the mosquito bites… yes, that brings us to the mosquitoes...

Mosquitoes come in the complete package deal when you opt for Chennai. No amount of burning those coils all around you or switching those Rani Mukherjee’s those-that-even-work-with-open-windows mosquito repellents will help you. I missed to contribute the last time we organized a blood donation camp in our organization. The gods probably decided to punish me! If not for the eventual loss of blood, your arms and biceps would be well developed due to the frenetic fanning and slapping and scratching routine. Mosquitoes are supposedly attracted to sweaty bodies. Here is the uncomfortable equation:

(1) Chennai -> Welcome, mosquitoes

(2) Power cut -> no fans -> sweat

(3) Sweat -> Welcome, mosquitoes (as proven already)

(4) Sweat -> open windows hoping for breeze

(5) Open windows (sounds paradoxical, right? ;) ) -> Welcome, more mosquitoes (based on (1) )

(6) Sweat -> Welcome, more mosquitoes (based on (3), (4), (5))

(7) Power cut -> not even the marginal help from Rani Mukherjee’s mosquito repellents -> Welcome, more mosquitoes

(8) Power cut -> irritation

(9) Mosquitoes -> irritation

(10) Power cut -> #@^%#$ (based on (1) to (9))

Nothing more to prove! Q.E.D.

Ok, back to the taunting game. Just when you sit furiously fighting nature in the various forms as described above, you suddenly find light at the end of the tunnel… or rather in some room. With an exclamation of “Ah! Thank God!”, you pick up the mat and pillow and walk sleepily to a room where the fan has started rotating with a moan and as the light bulbs keeps flickering due to the low voltage. But “they’ decide to continue the game… a few minutes, and that phase looses supply. Move back to original step of waiting patiently... cursing…scratching… till some other phase lights up, only to go off again in a few minutes.

Well, I had to go through this stuff for hours (and days)! In between these phases of phase-switching, there were a few moments when I could not even utter the “Ah! Thank God”. The power supply would go off even before I could acknowledge it!

There I was, waiting for the heavenly power to arrive! A few dogs were barking here and there. Are dogs too the target of mosquitoes, I wonder? The sound of the ubiquitous “mosquito bats” from across the street. They sound like diwali sara-vedi’s. A child crying somewhere in the neighbourhood. And then silence. Not sure how the mom forced the kid to sleep. How do people manage to sleep in this condition anyway? I wonder, as I wait sleeplessly. Lost in all this, I suddenly realized that it’s been well past 2 in the night. And no sign of power being restored. May be this is how the sailors in the past felt during their long trips on sea: “Where is the land?”

God’s delays are not His denials. So, finally the power supply was restored, though it was past 5 in the morning and already bright outside. Not sure if the Sun woke up early due to mosquito bites. Slumber sweet….. WAIT. It is not the end of the story. A couple of hours of sleep, and then, yes, the power cut again! This time, instead of the mosquitoes (which had fortunately gone to sleep after a mega feast) it was the blazing sun that added to the discomfort. So, I remain, sleepless…

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to any area called Sitlapakkam is a coincidence, but not unintentional. No animals were harmed during the making of this blog (coz mosquitoes are not considered ‘animals, right? :) )

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

How to become a famous blogger?

There are many ways to do it and many references are seen around. But found this toon at We Blog interesting!

cartoon from

Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.