An old tree

An old tree

The tree is

Now years old

Gives shadow of oxygen

An old man

Sitting under it

Telling stories to eager children

Trivandrum

I was in Trivandrum

For some five short years,

The city beats its drum

In my heart and my ears!

It never ever cares

To be showy, friendly and polite,

The energy that it shares

Is warm, special and bright!

People are direct, true to the letter,

If you get hurt it’s a choice you’d know better;

These are little things missing on other grounds,

Eyes may go moist but they also sing aloud.

And on most weekend eves!

The beckoning beach to beat the peeves!

Or the favourite museum!

That plays till date a quiet hum,

In the trail of Trivandrum!

Those hot mouth-watering dishes!

Of parathha, omelet, fishes,

My family knows the taste,

That matches the very best.

Served so hot and neat

All we had to do,

Was to enjoy chat and eat!

As a sign-off to the feast

Were juices, to say the least!

Friends with whom I did or didn't mellow,

I know they’re beyond the wall,

With a little sudden hello,

I connect with the call!

And rains O the rains!
What rains I have seen!
That freshens when you drain!
And keeps you evergreen!

Mosques, temples, churches,

On a common stable ground,

Power of prayer preaches,

Harmony all around!

I have never seen a place

As embracing as a tree,

A wind of warmth and grace

In this God’s own country!

This poem that was floating on my mind since a long, long time as a promise to the city. Today, on Thursday 22 May 2014, I am happy that I have fulfilled my promise to Thiruvananthapuram.

Doha on mind

Mind has to die for the soul to emerge

Mind is the part that first needs to purge

Soul only is the search that mind has to find

So lonely is the track in silence has to mind

slip

slip

A frog cannot offend a toad,

It is toad’s choice to get the shock;

A toad cannot offend a frog,

It is frog’s choice to let in the load.

Breathe out, and breathe in,

In the same pond, dirty or clean,

Hop, hop, hop… in and out of land,

See that getting in, getting out of hand.

From the valley of mind

From the valley of mind

From the valley of mind,

Thoughts emerge,

Inks stopped smelling; Keyboard sounds,

But hey, I have to do the chores;

Work and talk in chorus,

My mind’s a puppet in the fading show.

My monologues with the pond,

Birds and fish playing the silent jazz,

But hey, I have to do the chores;

Which severe the songs,

Building alone in pairs, some undrawn land,

Beside the blank’s an unwitnessed sight.

Thoughts are thrashing on the shore,

Inside the skies in spite of the drill,

Pairs are confused in works blemished,

Taking sides to provoke despite,

Broken with time punished by guilt,

Still trotting’s on without a thrill.

Strength and weakness are siblings,

Sometimes lovers of a kind,

With a tune for both;

Spaces near and far,

In all the warbles that twist the mind,

Gorge’s in times hallowing the air.

You did nothing!

You did nothing!

Baba! I am going to be nineteen!

I told you I don't want to grow up;
And you did nothing?

There's college getting over,
Career's calling me now,
The race round the corner,
I'd face that! How?

Was happy with Ma and you
Guiding day and night,
The tree that sheltered anew,
In the wrong and right!

We'd play some day,
Scrabbles, hide and seek,
You'd drive us long,
With Simba, Ma and me!

I woke up every day,
To see my Ma and you,
Drinking morning tea,
And cleaning, mopping too!

Now you're growing old,
You said you'd never do;
You will be my child,
I promise that to you!

But Baba! I am going to be nineteen?
I told you I don't want to grow up;
And you did nothing!

(Baba means father; Ma mother; Simba, the pet dog’s name)

From the lack of my mind

From the lack of my mind

There must have been something;

Something unacknowledged,

Else how is it that the love is still…

A bud cannot not blossom,

A dawn so indomitable, to begin

A twilight so determined, to wither

She’s my neighbour for so long

My partner for moments moving on;

There has to be gap, a hole, a blank,

Unfilled somewhere?

Let me search,

In the bruised journey so far,

Nothing;

Nothing seemed to have been understood,

Holding hands, so external

Love did never drown, was peripheral.

Let me move the lull

From the splits,

From the lack of my mind!

Scare in between… until the wind

Scare in between… until the wind

A dog barking…

It wants to play, old kids howl

The dog is scared

Two animals

To one another, shameless

People bark at them

Beefeaters take fruits

Surprised vegetarians

Buy vegetables

A divorcee looks

A housewife also looks

Both scared to talk

Traffic jam…

Beggars sell goods, windows close

Cars ready to start

Wind blows

Grasses smile, trees laugh

Sweats dry

The concept of 'scare' [did not use dread here because of Kierkegaard] has been used with different stakeholders coming in contact by chance... the 'scare' that is in between them for eons of years, when they have had the occasion of coming in contact and have faithfully not understood them, or if they have, it was with ethnocentrism... these short verses talk about them without any value judgement... however, there is a wind that changes things... this is per Tagore's song... 'kothha hote shomirono, ane nobo jagorono'... which translates into... a wind that comes out of nowhere and brings with it a renaissance! 

Love

'Love me when I deserve it the least,
For that is time I need it the most',
This moves the frozen thoughts, amidst
The world of loving ghosts.

The first two lines is an anonymous quote found in the virtual space... I instantly connected with it primarily because I was also thinking on these lines at the moment.

Dilemma

Sitting inside words,
A comfort destiny;
Sitting inside words,
Also an agony.