Friday, January 28, 2011

A love spent wise....

Once a flowing river, while now a parched bed
The pebbles rolled with glee, are now dry and dead
My eyes  spent the love and the bounty of my heart
And when my eyes went dry, a vacant peace did last
My once benevolent  heart, is now clothed in rags
But I have no regrets, nor there be any snag..
Let foolish be my heart, and somber be my eyes
The love spent was worth, for the memories  are still nice..

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

A peaceful sleepless night....

Like a hypocrite obsessed with his lies, I cling to my son.. telling him stories, swimming, painting, teaching..Don’t know how much I affect him by drawing him towards me..probably because of my selfish needs..wanting him to save my soul..forgetting myself in his innocence..I wrote something  when I was lying sleepless after he listened  to me tell one of his favourite stories of vishnu killing all the demons , and he slept peacefully. Only that  the same sleep  which brings momentary peace was evading me, and some words started churning inside me...

When he slept  while  I was awake....

I pull my son towards me..
So that I get absorbed in his innocence
My phantom demons die and dissappear
With the one glance of his heart’s god
The vile arguments with my god
Vanishes when his presence is felt
To live , god forbid, without him
Is to die, each moment
and to be born to die each moment..

and when I was writing ‘my son’, I remembered the pasuram by periyazhwar who wrote, ‘My son , govindan.’... how did I miss these wonderful verses  in tamil while Adhi was an infant??

¾ýÓ¸ò ÐîÍðÊ àí¸ò àí¸ò ¾ÅúóÐ §À¡ö
¦À¡ýÓ¸ì ¸¢ñ¸¢½¢ ¡÷ôÀô Òؾ¢ 嬂 ¸¢ýÈ¡ý
±ý Á¸ý §¸¡Å¢ó¾ý Üò¾¢ ¨ÉþÇ Á¡Á¾£
¿¢ý Ó¸õ ¸ñÏÇ ¬¸¢ø, ¿£Â¢í§¸ §¿¡ì¸¢ô §À¡.

The chutti dropping to  his face
is swaying as my kannan sways
his golden anklets clang with mirth
as my son’s hand weave the earth
behold a while  to see his pranks
Ye tender moon if you have eyes..

Sunday, January 23, 2011

A happy soul is a godsent friend

People who renounce desires, often turn, into hypocrites.. Jalaluddin Rumi..

Experiences are the investment for a person who writes... especially poetry..Like a cattle chewing cud, I often bring out the words dropped into the depths of my heart.. and experience the sorrow and bitterness. Sometimes fine tuning those  words of misfortune into a meter or something which requires rhyming. I am not telling about the pleasant things we come across ,which I readily advertise on my face. Once a carefree person, I envied myself for having thoughts which never enslaved me... But I’m happy for the life which is ruthless, which shook my roots so hard that it knocked off my many  desires..Maybe I haven’t renounced  desires but pushed them into the deeper crevices of my heart..Acting modest and pious in front of my kannan,  denying the fact that grapes are  the bounty of nature and pressed by hands that work to make wine ..


And of the words which I started pondering upon...

My soul is bewildered by the appetite of my senses
Loathing and grieving to wade through this puddle
Do make haste and  let the time of my calling shrink
I pray upon thy feet which breached the earth and the sky


Tuesday, January 18, 2011

முடியாத பயணம்..

¸É×ìÌû¦Ç¡Õ ¸É× À¢ÈóÐ
¯Â¢÷ À¢¡¢ó¾¨¾ À¡÷ò§¾ý
¿¢¨É× ¾¢ÕõÀ¢Â §À¡Ðõ¦¿ïº¢ø
Á¡È¡Ð ¿¢ýÈÐ §º¡¸õ..

±ý¨É ±¡¢ò¾ º¢¨¾Â¢ý ¦ÅôÀõ
¦¾¡¼÷ÅÐ ²ý ¸ñ½¡
À½ò¦¾¡¨Ä× ±ïº¢ þÕôÀ¨¾
¸ñΦ¸¡ñ¼¾¡ø ¾¡§É¡?

Monday, January 17, 2011

Kannanin sannidhiyil...

My master is generous and beckons me to his place
I linger past unmindful of his calling and his grace.
I strayed away from his temple Defiling my  soul
And Challenged him to bring me Back to his fold
With the same caressing hands he broke away my bones
I stumbled and stood wailing till he carried me Home..

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Wrote something.. reflections at a different age..

My dear god is now my greatest love. .
As my friend put once.. “I saw the tirulalai deivam with my eyes that will be eaten by earth. Why do you lament? You are able to see him with your inner eyes. What greatness would these eyes behold which transfers his form to my soul for a fraction of second while you get overwhelmed by your inner devotion towards him”. 
Now that's a different matter , some nice words spoken to calm me for a while.
Sometimes life’s longing  opens fresh wounds.. 
few days back I was asking my dear kannan some queries.. kanna.. 

Tell me a way to die when  the   heart is still beating,
 A way to endure a long life devoid of love..
I let my love roam along the wind,
Carrying the fragrance of my heart, lord and spreading your message all along..

While now I remember the words by Khalil Gibran.. 
How true are his predictions.. the prophet of his soul..

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
..... But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
The prophet..By Khalil Gibran.

I remember reading his works where he was in and out of love several ,times truthful to every one of them at that particular time.. That’s why all his love letters make an interesting read. ..

Yes.. laughter from the whole of heart.. and tears from the deepest caverns..
Is anyone immune to love.. If so let them take another birth to  feel the passion..

And to what I had written...

Submissions of a weary soul..

HE planted desire and took away the pleasure
To fall in love and lose forever
A joyous heart, he replaced with sorrow.
HIS coldness still piercing my marrow.
A man of ego, I confront my dear GOD
I refuse to enliven the joy of his world
A mere speck, I know in this universe vast..
Of what use is my grit, anger and my fast.
To me HE is my all and myself to HIM
A world for my individual GOD, One for one!

And I remembered a pasuram by thirumazhisai azhwar...which reflects these thoughts.(.God longs for a lost soul as a lover longs for his lost love?   Ohh.Do I make God  appear too menial?)

þýÈ¡¸ ¿¡¨Ç§Â ¡¸ þɢȢÐ
¿¢ýÈ¡¸ ¿¢ýÉÕû ±ý À¡Ä§¾- ¿ýÈ¡¸
¿¡Ûý¨É «ýȢ¢§Äý ¸ñ¼¡ö ¿¡Ã½§É!
¿£¦Âý¨É «ýÈ¢ þ¨Ä.

¾¢ÕÁÆ¢¨º ¬úÅ¡÷.

Today, or tomorrow, or a few days ahead
Days to come by even when  I am dead
To grace my soul , the day still awaits..
To accommodate me throw open thy gates
My lord ,devoid of your love  I am naught
And you the same, devoid of my thought.!(2388)

Thirumazhisai azhwar..

Friday, January 7, 2011

Please forgive me...

When you tore the flesh of my heart..
My eyes reflected the hidden anguish.
And I knew you happened to recognize
The pity and pleading of love forsaken.
All the while your lips murmured
A few words of comfort and solace..
I couldn't help to find a way
To stop the filling at my eye's corners..
Though  I spared very little words
I let my eyes speak of love..
I know it hurt, I know tis worse
To plant some pain in your heart...

Please forgive me....

Monday, January 3, 2011

From' who wrote Kamba Ramayanam......'

If  life permits me to read more, I would prefer to read ramayanam by Kamban  who’s thousands of verses portray the best of tamil literature’s finest poetry. It is a sad fact that  a poet of his caliber was omitted in the original theme song of tamil classical status celebrations, and had to be reminded of his contribution to tamil.Oh ! I don’t want to start a political controversy. Though I couldn’t be unmindful of the fact that our regular supply of patients were cut off during those days of tamil classical meet., our area being close to coimbatore  and people were more inclined to get  their packets of biriyani there rather than tomato rice here.
I  do not  want to  condemn the recent practice of thrashing all religious and mystic writings as junk by learned people. ( could be substituted as atheist/reformist/ our new class of politicians who seem to be the authority of  tamils).Poetry is something which strikes a chord between the poet and the reader. So it is no one’s business as to what makes my heart soften and what should be preferred by me. It is to be noted that Bharathiyar exclaims “ I haven’t come across in all languages  that I’ve learnt, A poet who’s merit equals that of kamban, valluvan or ilango”
The situation of Kamban was no good when he was alive. In fact,he had to support himself making manual labour in his old age. His only son , according to legend  was killed for falling in love with the king’s daughter. I remember walking in the  streets of chennai  last year with my friend to get a copy of Kamba Ramayanam . The publisher’s  content was that  it will be printed only if there are quite a number of enquiries. So, that put an end to my quest for  Ramayanam for a while. Probably I should’ve google searched for other publishers or should’ve  gone to coimbatore literary meet to get a copy for me,much to my chief’s astonishment as to why I colour myself in political hues.
What triggered me to write this?? A recent question by my better truly better.. which made me raise my one eyebrow( i can write this, no one is going to ask for a demonstration)." Is it true that no one passes beyond the steps of kulashekarappadi?”. Hmm! That was quite something which made me ponder about the original pasuram. Kulashekarazhwar wanted to become the stone which  all the devotees, gods and nymphs passed to see 'HIS' glory. 

¦ºÊ¡ ÅøÅ¢¨É¸û ¾£÷ìÌõ ¾¢ÕÁ¡§Ä
¦¿Ê¡§É! §Åí¸¼Å¡! ¿¢ý §¸¡Â¢Ä¢ý Å¡ºø
«Ê¡Õõ Å¡ÉÅÕõ «Ãõ¨ÀÂÕõ ¸¢¼ó¾¢ÂíÌõ
ÀÊ¡ö ¸¢¼óÐ ¿¢ý ÀÅÇÅ¡öì ¸¡ñ§À§É.

Unto the doors  of thy   altar , I come
My father, towering over the hills of Venkatam,
wishing to stay as a stone where reigns
The glory of gods, nymphs and  saints
Weeding my vice , at the behest of thy word
I stay put savouring the ruby lips, my lord..


Ultimately I have zeroed on the 4000 verses.That’s why initially I wrote “if life permits to read more....”.Hmm... religion is the opiate of masses.. Who cares ..As long as I’m not arrested for possesing illicit drugs..( why have I become so much cynical?)

Sunday, January 2, 2011


வருத்தி உன்னைச்சார்ந்து, வரம் பல கேட்ட என்னை
திருத்தி நெறிப்படுத்திய நேமியுடைய மாயனிடை
அருத்தித்து நீராய் கரைந்துள்ளம், ஊடல் பலவாறு கொண்டு
கருத்தில் அவன் கழலே என்றும் உறுதியென பற்ற நின்றேன்

பற்ற நின்றவையாவும் பிடியகன்று சென்ற போது
உற்ற  நோய் வலிகொண்டு உள்ளதையிற்றபோது
கொற்றவனே வேங்கடவா, குறைகொண்டுன் வாசலிலே
கற்று பசுவைத்தேடி காவலென்ன வந்து நின்றேன்

காவல் கொண்டென்னை, என்குலமும் உற்றவரும்
ஆவியுள்ளனைத்தும் உன் பெயர்க்கே வழிவழியாய்
ஏவல் பணிபுரிந்து கைத்தொழுதிடும் அன்பர்களாய்
மேவ வரம் தந்து ஆட்கொள் என் குலவிளக்கே...