For You, Parukutty :)

What is it, about this daughter
That makes this mother proud?
And happy and filled with quiet contentment?

It fills her too, with a motherly anxiety :P
one that warms, rather than distrubs :D

The girl talk
The secret sharing
The tale telling
The gyan bestowal :D :D

No, not just that.

It's more. More. 

The empathetic listening ear.
The generosity of a heart
that knows only to share.
The innocence of childlike fun :)
The enthralled enchantment in
simple pleasures of life.  :)

That is her. My Parukutty.

And, as she celebrates her first birthday, today,  as my "kutty" (child :) ), all I wish is that the Heavens keep her this lovely, always, this loving and always, but always, this lovable :)

14 October, 2012

Sepia

That would be the colour of my life.
Sepia. The pages I mean. 
The pages wrinkled, frayed around the edges.
Much thumbed. 
Vulnerable words hedging inwards.
Going back is a given. 
Living in what has been
Yearning for what would be.

Passion lurks, unbidden. 
Belonging, unwavering. 
Inconsolable grief, it form scabs,
Over healing wounds. Slowly.

You hold that book now.
Containing the pages of my life.
Do you see what I mean?
Those words, those lines-
Concealing more than meaning.

I wish I could edit them.
Those words, I mean. 
Find grace in simple stories
I once lived. 
I cannot touch them now, though. 
But of course. 

Still, the rainbow that my life is
Can never be muted:
Even if it be Sepia, in yours.

28 September 2012
Online
(Inspired entirely by the topic for Versification given at school, "Pages of my life" :D)

Other personal Sepia favourites:
Sepia Dreams
Beyond Sepia Dreams

The Unbearable Lightness... (due apologies to Milan Kundera :) )

The trembling within
Knowing, just across the room
You look at me
With smoky warm eyes
Radiating...
Oh! Oh my!
Why does it feel like
I'm mere molten mass?

It's like our fingers simply brushed
Walking alongside;
Whisper soft brushing,
A sleeve here, a wrist there
And fingers - Oh! Oh my!

And then we stop
Together - unplanned
Seemingly deliberately. 

The world fades
Into that poetic moment
That the mad crave
That delicate, perfect solitude.
Of us.

And I don't need more
Just the cloak of your arms-
As I do - you.
Toes touching
Wrapped in feeling feather soft 

And we become
This poem.

21 September 2012

(Mush and goo; blame it on a playlist that made it happen :D) 
And the icing was that wonderful link that Shilpa shared that says more than this write will!

http://www.buzzfeed.com/summeranne/the-50-most-romantic-photographs-of-all-time

Homeward Bound

Chugging past a distant memory
Of childhood fun and frolic
Playing in puddles, formed of mischief
Hiding under big banana leaves
From prying eyes of grown-ups!

An aeon hence I find that metaphor again
In the splatter of rain on my window
The blurred vision the yellow sign
Beckoning as it used to
Unhesitant in the welcome, in the warmth
That comforts this aching heart.

They said, you can never go home again.
But each raindrop I've met, since I left
Had a different story to tell - no, stories...
Of that time, when rain was life, 
Before Life came along, and rained responsibilities.

All it takes is this rain splattered window
And that blurred yellow sign
My heart, it sings, 
Revels in rain - and I know
I'm home again!

Inspired, entirely by a poem of a picture (as Govind has put it :) ) by Shail Mohan in the way she bent rules while receiving the Inspiring blogger award from Suranga Date :)

19 September, 2012
Online :)
(Picture courtesy, Shail Mohan )

Psst... another of Shail's wonderful photographs found a Haiku here... :) Or rather the Haiku came out of the photograph there... :)

She Walks In ... (due apologies to Lord Byron)

She walks in Arrogance, like no other
In climes warmed over by Hell itself
Of self given power, and little honour
All that's worst -ever- in her, engulf
The little haven, our little heaven, serene.
She, who inhabits it, a dreaded queen.

And all it seems, now, too late to dwell
On the new formed vacuum, that does swell
With rancid aftertaste of a deed most foul
Darker more vicious than Macbeth's ghoul!

 And yet, on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
 So soft, so calm, yet deadly,
 The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
 But tell of undercurrents aplenty,
 A mind hellbent at war with peace within,
 A heart whose love pretends innocence!

31 July, 2012

********************************************************************************************

All due apologies to Lord Byron, who penned this delightful poem, "She Walks in Beauty", (given below), mercilessly massacred by me above. Had to. Rant day. Sigh.

She Walks in Beauty 

She walks in beauty, like the night
        Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
    And all that's best of dark and bright
        Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
    Thus mellowed to that tender light
        Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
                                      2
    One shade the more, one ray the less,
        Had half impaired the nameless grace
    Which waves in every raven tress,
        Or softly lightens o'er her face;
    Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
        How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
                                      3
    And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
        So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
    The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
        But tell of days in goodness spent,
    A mind at peace with all below,
        A heart whose love is innocent!

Quest III

Quelling the panic;
The surge of disquiet-
I call you. 
You're beyond reach.
(In more ways than one,
I think. Suddenly.)

Though that knowledge
Lapped around the fringes 
Of the Utopia I lived in...
It always had, I know now,
Suddenly.

Innundated by that certainty
I allow myself to sink in
To absorb that too-
After all, I'm the one
Who always mopped up each mess
For everyone. 

And while self-pity claws in
And illusions shimmer, shake
And form slivers from irreversible cracks
On my stained glass dreams...

I begin to find sanity.
Hold threatening thunderstorms at bay.
Go deep into the stillness within
Find a catatonic, cathartic me
Assuage a ravished heart. 

And dig me out.

Again. 

30 July, 2012

*********
Quest

Quest Again!

That is why this title :D

One Day

And just when bone deep exhaustion

In my soul clamours for a break from it all...

A gusty wind picks up, and whooshes through

The curtain, that partly opened window;

The one I tried to shut. Tight. 

And out billows tendrils of not just

My stringy hair...

But labored threads of threatening thoughts.

The "What If"s, the regrets, the tiny tenacious lichen-like

Scabs of memories. Of another day. 

This gutsy gusty thing. I wish I could be it. 

Someday. 

23 July, 2012

Clouded Hopes

That cloud, it grew, as it passed
Over sea, over beach, over valleys and hills...

And burgeoning with the heaviness
Of promise, or was it warning?
It arrived: longed for release.

As did she, looking upward
In empathy. Know the portent
Of that darkness, of that weight
Of expectation, of the helplessness
Of being left, to the
Winds of change.

And while she waited, it blew away.
Was blown away.
Looking longingly after it, she wished
She too could grow wings and follow;
That she too, whimsically could just
Up it and off.

A day later, she heard it rained
Where he was.
Unappeased, she forgave herself.
And waited for the next one.

17 July, 2012

On a random thought, while gmail chatting with Soumya, about a cloud that did not rain here :)
Text below: Uncanny, the thought that it took me by the scruff and wrote itself here. :D The last line says I hoped to read it from him :D 
**************************************************
On 16 July, 2012:
"Soumya-Amused: :

  and how is the weather there?

 me: Almost but not quite rainy.. overcast most times... but the intensity of the rains is yet to pick up

07:00 Soumya-Amused: hmm same here.

  but interestingly

  the cloud that goes above your house, the same comes to ys.

  us*

  esp the ones that do not pour

  :)

07:01 me: Now THAT is a thought :D

  One should write about it, no?

 Soumya-Amused: Yes yes.

 me: So I'll read it soon?"
*****************************************************************************And now, am waiting to read yours, Soumya :D!

Wedded - A Haiku in Celebration :)

Merging my soul in

Yours, I’m lost: only to find

Completeness in us.

19 April, 2012

For 29 June, 2012, when they got married!

Piquant

Piquant

Edgy. 

Tangy. 

Burgeoning with 

Unvalidated, irreverent

emotion. 

Gladdened by notions.

Weighed down by fullnesses.

Bound by the limitlessnesses

Of unexplored possibilities. 

I remain. 

As always,

Piqued

By life. 

10 June, 2012

Implosion

Why is it that the heavy heart
Never slows down, despite my willing it?
Why does that indefinable, infinitesimal
Infernal lump in my throat still allow me to breathe?
Why, even when I drown in self inflicted silence,
Do words impinge, float, escape, and express themselves?
Even as my heart, my soul curl themselves back
Into the fetal form, closing themselves
Turning inward, why do I still go on
And move, and find myself open
Vulnerable

Why cannot I let that period define
And close a labouring life?
Curl my whole self, tightly
Airlessly, compacting myself
Implode, to that zing.

Pulling the plug, within.

26 April, 2012

My Most Beautiful Thing

In the mosaic of existence
Try as I might, I cannot
Pick a speck - for each
Is intertwined

There is bliss
Pure, uncontested;
Revelling in a moment
Lived well;
Finding harmony-
Rarer than a four-leaf clover-
That chances upon you
Unawares
Elusive, in a blink

That bliss-
Drenching in a sudden shower
A stolen kiss
Revelling -
In the joy of mischief played
In the innocence of the victory then
The harmony
Of a silence, a fierce warm hug

The most beautiful thing is
Being given that chance-

To celebrate Life.

24 April, 2012

This is part of my contribution for My Most Beautiful Thing, the Blogsplash where bloggers all over are participating, sharing their moments, pictures, writes, feelings, on this topic. It has been inspired by Fiona Robyn's book "The Most Beautiful Thing", which is available on Kindle, for free, today! This page on Facebook,  gives you details, and lots of posts on beautiful things, to read and rejoice in!

24 April, 2012

Lesson

Disappointment has a rancid taste.
One you don't expect;
One that will, each time,
Take you by surprise.

No matter that you anticipate,
Expect and avoid, simultaneously.
No matter that you know
It will somehow sneak in.

Contrary as it seems
There is a pattern.

Each time, the same.
The build-up to expectation. 
The garnering of shreds
Of feeling, tangible and otherwise.
The neglect of  the knowing. 
The  ignorance.

The pattern falling in place.  

And you tell yourself.
I know. I knew!
I've learnt my lesson.

Ha!

20 April, 2012 

Exuberance - Haiku

Bubbling over with

Sudden sparkles of frothy

Effervescent joy!

18 March, 2012

(Entirely instigated by misplaced exuberance of young girls of my class who indulged in a bit of graffiti in school, and were apprehended, red-handed :P. They wrote "Exuberantz" supposedly a "gang" name. Horrors! Yes, I did my thingy of ogre-ishness, and then wondered: How I love that word!
Hence. Because. And So. :P :) :D :lol: )

More Haiku, here. 

Picture, Google Images.

Def-i-ance

Of freedom,
Bound within
Acceptance. 

Not, let free
In typecast stereotypes.

I've wondered
Ever so often
What defines me-

The willingness to be me;
Or the obligation otherwise

Answers elude.

Till then I'm bound to be

Free, to be pigeonholed.  

4 March, 2011

Merging - Haiku

Would that I could be

A silhouette on your soul

Friends beyond sunsets!

1 March, 2012

On a prompt from Shail Mohan, in her reply on her beautiful post :)

Picture, Copyright,  Shail Mohan

Worded

A piquant thought nudges me-
As to
Why words topple into me
When the clocks tick midnightwards.
Perhaps they’re tired of hanging out of reach
And think I might just not notice
As they slither down the thought strings?
And so with eyes dry drowned in midnight oil
I grab them, before they squirm out of reach!
Only to array them before me
And wonder, suddenly, where all the magic did go

I should have left them be.
Sigh.

28 February, 2012

Stuff.

Stuff. 

I write stuff. 

In-your-face, sometimes. 

Tantalizing, to myself. 

Nerdy, to some.

Often, surreal, to all.

For, the meaning, the picture

Is hazy when seen through eyes

That do not own words.

See? You've got to see them

Then touch them just a bit

As you roll them round your tongue...

Feel that quiver perhaps when a tiny

Plosive sound echoes a heartbeat's cry.

Bah! What's that? You gag!

I've known terrorists you know, 

The kind whose "plosive" *snigger snigger*

Sounds I've laughed away...

And you. You. You perhaps 

Insinuate, I cannot fathom

The utter senselessness of 

That word?

Which one? I ask. 

You're not sure, I can see.

Which plosive sound? Did I not

Just implode, with that suggestion?

And that is what I did mean.

A word like Love. 

A word that cries.

A sound that smells 

Of disdain. 

Breath rushes out between

Half opened, sometimes closed lips

When you articulate. I beg you. 

See. 

Even when sounds defy

Phonetic seriousness

Not adhering to norms. 

See.

Touch. 

Taste. 

When you listen.

And then, then only

Will I grant that you can

Read.

Stuff. 

26 February, 2012

Online, on a silly line of thought :D

Flickering Candle, Immeasurable Light

In the deep distant expanse
That I traverse within, I find
No light.

The pit, the darkness, sometimes
Does comfort. It helps to know I cannot see.
Eyes, inward, heart hurting, seeking
Absolution, from emptiness.

And then it glows. You do. You.
Broken journey; you make me halt.
You light that candle, that shines into-
Not just without, but within.

I'm forced to acknowledge; blink;
You cannot know how that hurts.
Even from a flickering candle. It does.

When I cannot but live with so little,
How will I ever measure up to that
Which you give? But take I must.
Live, I shall.

The choice has been made.
I will merge into your light,
Seeking that shade, which I yearn for.

But.
Darkness was so comforting.

20 February, 2012

A Lifetime of Love

Thoughts gathered from musty corners
(Of my forgotten heart, and vigilant mind)
Of an aeon ago, tell me how much
How very much I did not know
How, I did not live...

How very much, I 
Yearned, to do, just that.

 And so I come a full circle.
To this. We. Us.

To that moment when love
Joined life, and we began.  
To each waking moment
Or slumberous dream...
Stalking closed lids
And warmly held closenesses.

To smiles, thrown in abandon;
To enjoyment in a child's shout of laughter;
To holding hands and quick hugs;
And leaning my head, into your shoulder;
Of a pat on the back, 
A sneaking admiration, open-mouthed
But well-hidden!

Of how I stand back, and let you ...
Do all you ever wanted to;
Knowing it is Love, of yourself, 
And therefore another, that lets
You be the best, you can.

For you. For me. For us. 
For Love.  

13 February, 2012
Valentine's Day, for me, is everyday, but special too, for it completes, and starts another year of celebrating Love, each day, each moment. Wishes to all of you too :)

Off-stage

And when the last show has been done
And the curtain falls, one last time, on the night
And the stage, abandoned, except for those who
Lurk on the edges, undoing the glorious garb it wore

When, the people slowly pour out, in the
First great wave, than a trickle, as the flow
Is damned, in loud, then hushed riposte
If ever you could, hushed...

When only your other self, that wowed remains
Ethereal, formless on the emptied stage
You sigh.
The high, of having been that form
The regret of now leaving it behind
And always, the yearning.

Why did it have to end?

11 February, 2012

Quest(ion)ing

I work with words

Work around them

Turn them inside out,

Sometimes invert them

Within themselves...

Split each one, tear limb from limb

And share their screaming silences

Or their silent laughter

With innocence writ large in confounded

faces

Sometimes, again, with blasé bored shut down faces. 

Sometimes, I see them dancing, hanging playfully

Below the ceiling, creeping in through windows

Where a stray eye streaks out to escape the 

Stifling metaphor that coagulates her brain...

And at question time, I wonder at the looks:

Ask, and eyes vacantly hunt upwards, 

Seeking the selfsame words I tried to give them

Only they indifferently ignored them... :)

And now, I see them, there, tantalizingly hovering

Playing hide and seek, as the questing eyes

Cast upwards...

Quest(ion)ing...

How I love that about them!

31 January, 2012

(Live in Class today :))

Free

The gust of wind that blew
Did not take away the weight
I thought it would.

If anything, I feel heavier
For the storm, that rained on,
Did not cleanse, it only drenched.

Heavy, deep inside, with no hope
Of ever shedding that baggage of grief.

When you lose, shouldn't you be light?
For you are suddenly free, severed.

Of responsibility, of being bonded.
Of love.

You are that kite, soaring on freed string.
You are that feather, blowing thither, every which way.

YOU are free.

And there is free. Again.
Free of you.
Free to keep you ever, in my heart.
To know sometimes, visit memories
Free to grieve.

I wonder, though, when
Ever
I will be.
To.


29 January, 2012

Bereft - Tanka

Gently wafts the mist

Gossamer veil, uplifting

Caressed, wrapped in love-

I never knew when you left;

Abandonment, now dawns cold.

27 January, 2012

(Tanka, Japanese lyric verse - Syllable count 5-7-5-7-7)

Fall - A Jorio

From knob of green

(Catching light, giving life)

The tree's soul finds

Freedom. Rising while falling!

18 January, 2012

*************

Final Jorio, I promise, for sometime, at least :) 

Jorio? Cuboid writing, four lines, four words each. Capturing the essense of a moment, a fleeting feeling. More here and here, with explanation :)