Time

It moves on
Unrelenting
And we, with it.
Insensibly we move
Like the in-flight feel.
Dates and days
Mere figures
Like the in-flight map.


Till the mind
Ruminates
Childhood sunshine
Adolescent love
Toddler offspring
Empty nest
A long race
Breaking the wand

And then you see
And feel
Time.
Its unrelenting advance

Like the wind
You ‘see’ from the eleventh floor
As it sweeps the thronging coconut palms
Which bend in unison
In an easterly direction,
And drives the rain too
Like an aerial wave
Moving eastward
Shrouding the distant land
In a misty haze.

The Mask

Blows
Impact
Rage
Gloom
Perplexity
Rapture
Tears
Remembrance
Jostle blindly
And silently
Masked sanely

Don’t rip the mask, please.
You’ll peel off the skin.

You won’t like what you see, I tell you.

You’ll turn away in disgust

And shatter me.

The Silence of the Ashes

The blog visitor: Why no update?


My muse goes into hibernation
I do not know why

And when it stirs
and struggles in the cocoon
and finally breaks free
into the light of the day

it gets singed.
No colourful wings.

Only ashes.

The struggle to be born
to fly about
to exist
the pain of death

lost in silence.

A Friend's Visit

Like a reminder of my lost world
she came

All the way

Forenoon was music time
A new picture emerged
as music released memories
of her lost world

of a little mallu girl in Borneo
peeping through her window
watching people dance
in the forbidden world
as Frank and Nancy Sinatra crooned
‘Something Stupid’

She enjoyed my biriyani
which was not my best
Then from the beach
we watched the sea
philosophizing

And then she said
‘Confront yourself
how long can you hide from yourself?
Your tete a tete with death
write it down
all of it”

True, I told myself
all of us have a tale to tell
but do I want to tell mine?

She left by the evening train

I was touched.
Coming all the way
just to see me

‘Tell your story’
her words kept coming back to me
To be rid of them niggling at my brain
I started my story

Mirage

Infinite possibilities
Of childhood and youth
Create castles.
Archtectured fun.
Where are they?

Vanished without a trace
In a moment that eludes memory.

Furrowing to release
The silver flashes
From the suffocating heap
Of restrictions and pain.
Where are they?

Vanished without a trace
In a moment that eludes memory.

Wallowing in the mire
Clinging to sanity
And dignity – or trying to
The lurking suspicions
Grow into tangible shapes.

Why this torture
Of vanishing dreams?

Atlassa

They keep apart
Heaven and earth
Twixt twenty five
And fifty five

Neither young
Neither old
Neither man
None to care

Gritting and baring
Frustrated teeth
Blamed and exploited
Poor milch cow

She’ll never shrug
Fearing the chaos
The tortured blades.
They couldn’t care less.

Did Rand get the sex wrong?

Deshamsham / 10%

Good people all
They buy up land
‘Cos land is gold
And gold is all

Good people all
They buy up land
Here on earth
And there in heaven

Just ten percent
Of life’s earnings
Will fetch you land
In the world to come

That ten percent
That magic po(r)tion
Alchemises
Ill-gotten wealth

Hungry mouths
Naked penury
Made worthwhile
By deposit eternal

Meanwhile

Jesus Christ
Lord of love
Turns and turns
In his grave