when words dwindle thoughts

Dreams Sold Here

2009-12-16T04:58:00.000+05:30

Brown suit,

Hefty voice,

Subduing charm.

'Dreams Sold Here!,

Pick one if you may', he told.

It is an unfinished post. I couldn't finish it. Anyway Somethings better than nothing. Its been some time, I know. I was getting adjusted to one of those dreams that I bought. Life in a different city is exciting with lots of places to see, different people, different climate, different culture. But when you weigh all these differences ,there is always the one which makes the weighing machine go beserk. I think you got it right.

Sheesh.. Why don't dreams come free!!

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Change

2009-08-06T08:55:00.006+05:30

photo by h.koppdelaney on Flickr

I wanted to stay till everyone left.

To see everyone off,

To wish a very good bye,

Before I start on this journey of mine.
But life isn't that way, Is it? Always bereft.

Every single laugh

Canceled out by a cry,

Negating all positives with the pass of time.

It is never easy, being Change's subject.

The heaviness of loss,

The ebbing of joy,
Desperate attempts to foil Fate's design.

Now my name is on the rolls,

And I hear him knocking at my door.....

Its a reflection back on my life.. Change has come many at times and I have been forced to move on... So heres my thoughts on that in words...

Status : Missing friends  back at Bangalore....

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elle rêvait d'amour

2009-07-17T07:30:00.003+05:30

By pincel3d on deviant art

An empty reflection in the mirror,

Of Twenty and hundred pounds.

I, the worthless wayside whore,

Had her dreams for a day crowned.

That moment was Chance's child,
Whom Fate did father wrong.
A day to spend,a night to dine,
Nothing more - a request queerly odd.

A day we spent in eternal bliss,
A day together, forever remembered.
Helios' chariots gave way for Selene's grace,
He bid his fare and in the shadows retreated.

Never made love in a way as such,
Hearts embraced and flesh withdrawn.
Never made love in a way as such,
In Passion's triumph, lust overthrown.

I know its strange

And the feeling stranger.

But I can't explain how I felt

When I made love with the stranger.

An empty reflection in the mirror,

Of Twenty and hundred pounds.

I, the worthless wayside whore,

Had her dreams for a day crowned.

[ I tried my best to capture a story i had in my mind as a short poem. I hope you guys got the story... :) .

The title is in french - elle rêvait d'amour, which means - She dreamed of love.

Penkodi is taking french lessons, that inspired me to keep the title in french.

For the record, google translate is my tutor. ;) :)) ]

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The Sound Of Rain

2009-03-20T10:52:00.003+05:30

[Cafe Writing March April Project : http://www.cafewriting.com/2009/03/marchapril-2009-project-in-the-garden/

Option One : Poetry

Weather means more when you have a garden. There’s nothing like listening to a shower and thinking how it is soaking in around your green beans.

~Marcelene Cox

Using the quotation above as your inspiration, write a poem (any form is fine) about weather meaning more.]

[Photo By : wGGta on Flickr]

Splattery Splat Splattery Spalt,

The rain drops drummed on the window pane.

The sun and clouds in mortal fight,

No Longer scorched the soil remains.

Croakery Croak Croakery Croak,

the big green frog in my garden cries.

Pussycat dear from his noon nap woke,

the time is here to mince more mice.

Rickety Rock Rickety rock,

Under my burden the wooden chair grunts.

And a mug of cream and coffee thick,

Would you wish or anymore want?

Screakery Squeak Screakery Squeak,

I hear the hinge on the farmhouse door.

A howling wind unabated seeks

To devour the silent summer whole.

Hootery Hoot Hootery Hoot,

the brown old barn owl chides.

Oh!! Now I remember I have to glue,

The leak in the barn where he hides.

Splat,Croak,Rock ,Squeak and hoot,

together they play a lovely band,

A tune which soothes

A tune with life
A tune of joy with hope unbound.

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Wish Upon A Falling Star

2009-02-28T23:16:00.009+05:30

[This lovely piece of art is by Julianne . See it on Flickr]

I wish i could see her every night,

Every day in every sight.
So stare, and stare would I,
Eyes fixed on a cloudless sky.

I wish that she would dance,

She would fly in a graceful stance.

A silky gown she would wear,

And give the sky a shiny scar to bear.

I wish i could hold her hands,

Hold her close and hold her tight,

Embrace her into a lovely waltz,

Which would even the heavens exalt.

I wish I could survive,

Could dream and could stay alive,

In hope of the day I would unite

With my ever eluding woman of light.

*****

[

I am sure most of you haven't any clue as to what i am rhyming about.

The story goes like this. I have never seen a falling star in my life (so uncool, i KNOW!!). This attempt at a poem is for the lady of my life whoever she might be and wherever she might be, because I haven't seen her either. So I thought it might be appropriate to compare her with a falling star, neither of whom have met in my life. And I wish upon a falling star (some star ought to be falling at some place!! :) ) that I the day I see a falling star, its a sign that I meet my lady as well. So, please do pray that I do see a falling star. I am in no hurry, so you can take your time to include it in the list of things that you will be asking God.

]

[see this awesome pic by Sandeep.]

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Shades

2008-10-15T23:40:00.017+05:30

Never a tinge of colour in life,

Forever etched in black and white.

Ever obeying the master's bid,

To follow him till death decides.

Caged in cold and stony walls,

But still an ally through love and war.

Not a sound, not a word,

Not a drop of tear to shed.

Dark, a fiend;

Light, a friend;

A man at dawn,

A child at noon,

And again a man,

At sundown.

What is there in such a life,

To be the slave of another man?

I do wonder so,

About the life of my Shadow.

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Kakkathiamma

2008-07-14T18:33:00.015+05:30

Darkness was falling. He quickened his steps. He had to reach the valley before nightfall. Falling prey to some hungry carnivore was not the best of ideas. Shridharan Mashu ( Mashu means master in Malayalam) checked the time on his watch and also the sky.6:30, the twilight was fading, and that was bad. It would be dark in a matter of minutes, as it happens in this part of the country. The old battered torch was of no use in this dense forest.

Shridharan Mashu was a respected man in the village. Still a bachelor, and in his early thirties (Sweet 30's as he would call it); he was a teacher in the village in Wayanad. He taught at the only L.P. school in the village. He was happy that at least there was a school now. During his days, he had to walk 20 miles to the nearest school where he studied. He was perhaps till now the only person in the village who had gone to college. Being the son of the forest officer he was more privileged than the other children of the tribal village. After his Father had died in service, he had stayed on in the village as a teacher. His younger brother had got a job in the forest department and he had moved on to another range. During his college days he had read extensively the work of Marx .Though not inclined to any political party, he had circulated socialist ideas amongst the tribes. They were all ears and their eyes filled with admiration for him whenever he spoke. He was shunned by most of the tribesmen for his ideas, but they still respected him; because he knew more of the unseen world.

This day he was returning home after taking tuition for the Engineer Sir's daughter. The school had closed for the summer vacations, when the Engineer Sir came and requested him to help his daughter in maths. Mashu wanted to keep himself busy so he agreed after a lot of cajoling from Engineer sir.

He knew the forest well, but after night fall even the most experienced tribesman will find it difficult to find his way out. He had been walking for half an hour now. If he had been on the right path he would have reached the village 10 minutes back. He knew it was futile to continue again and that would result in going into more unfamiliar territory. His only protection was to find an Erumaadam (Tree house built by hunters) and take refuge in it and resume his journey at dawn.

He climbed a nearby tree to see if he could find anything in the diminishing light. He saw a light up ahead. "Ah!! Civilization, at least I am not lost." He thought. The light was stationary and that meant it was a house and not someone who had lost his way as he had. Vanquishing the shrubs in the path with his mighty torch, he followed the light. He cried out aloud, but couldn't get a response back. He was not even sure his voice reached there.

The hut stood in a small clearing. The source of light was a ranthal (kerosene lamp) at the window. He went forward and banged on the bamboo door. No response. Twice and thrice he tried. He went around the house. No sign of life. Just as he was about to push open the door, it opened.

She would be at least 70 odd years old, the lady. She was stooping. She would have been to his shoulder level if she stood upright. Age was showing on her face and hands.

Wrinkled and loose skin on her neck and hands. Her ears were sagged with holes, the size of bangles, where once ear rings had adorned. He wondered what she might be doing here, so far in the woods. And by the looks of it she appeared to be alone.

He suddenly found that she fit woman in the story, he had heard in his childhood. In fact, any child in the village heard from their parents; the story of the old woman in the forest who stole children and ate them for dinner. He was too old for that story now and smiled unknowingly; what all parents cook up to keep their child safe and from going into the woods.

She stared at him for moment through the cold grey eyes. He met her eyes. She seemed startled by the presence of the stranger.

‘Amma’, he called her. 'Do you know how to join back to the path to the village?'

She nodded. She raised her hand halfway, as to show him the way, but brought it down.

'The woods are dangerous in this time of the day', she warned. Her sparingly cultivated teeth showed. What was left had the dark brown colour of chewing betel leaves.

'Then can I stay here till dawn, Amma?' he asked. 'That is, if it is not a burden for you'.

She looked bewildered. Had he asked something wrong, Mashu thought.

She looked down, and said 'If you want to stay here you are most welcome. But let me

remind you no one likes to come here to stay, lest talk with me.'

That was a strange remark. 'It is no problem with me Amma, I will stay here. And I won't cause any disturbance also, I promise Amma'. He smiled. He could see her gaze shifting when he called her Amma.

The hut was a single room. Except for a charcoal stove in one corner, it was more or less empty. A mat made of palm leaves was rolled up against the wall and a few utensils made of clay were near the stove. The stove was cold. A small pile of dry branches decorated another side of the wall, to indicate cooking was done once in a while. She ushered him inside, rolled out the mat and gestured him to sit. As a polite gesture Mashu stood there until Amma had sat down. She sat with great difficulty. But after resting her legs she seemed relieved. Mashu sat down on one side of the mat.

She seemed to be in her own world, staring at the wall, as though it was a screen with a movie playing. Mashu decided to break the silence.

‘Amma , what is your name?’ . She was startled and looked around to see who had disturbed her from her dream. She saw him sitting there and remembered she was not alone.

‘Amma , what is your name?’ Mashu repeated softly. She started laughing loudly, baring her brown teeth. She stopped suddenly.

‘Kakkathiamma is what they call me, the children. They run away on seeing me’. He face turned sad. ‘They run away on seeing me. They think I will hurt them, don’t they?’.

She looked at Mashu, her grey eyes had a glint in them. Mashu had no answer. He wanted to change the topic. But he said, ‘No, they don’t . Who would run away from a sweet lady like you?’

‘They have heard stories. They know they aren’t supposed to come near me. ’ she retorted.

She continued on, ‘I fell in love with a man, an outsider, was it my mistake. They stamped me an outcast. They shunned me from the tribe.’ She continued as though there were many things she had to say, ‘I married the man, we moved off far away from the tribe.’ She stopped. Tears had started flowing from her eyes. They shone on her skin like beads. Mashu understood her and the loneliness over the years. ‘Now I am all alone, couldn’t bear a child, my husband taken by the forest gods and I live because I cannot die.’

He placed a gentle hand on her palm, rubbed it. She clutched it firmly. She looked into his eyes. He could see not coldness in them now. Only the remains of a youth trampled down by customs.

‘Thank you son, for listening to me. It’s been long since anyone….’

‘Say , did you have dinner.’ . Time had well passed 8:30 now. The question made Mashu’s Stomach grumble. Kakkathiamma stood up and picked up a pot. She approached him with a fistful of berries and handed it over. Mashu and Amma ate together. After the dinner, Kakkathiamma, offered him the mat to sleep on. Mashu declined . He helped her settle down and laid down to sleep. Kakkathiamma had left a deep effect on him.

The sun rose as always. Light poured into the house through the lone window.

Shridharan Mashu rubbed his eyes, stifled a yawn and sat upright. The cottage looked as he had entered it yesterday. The mat was rolled up. The only scenic change was the water boiling on the stove and the billowing smoke that rose out through the window throwing patterns of sunlight in the smoke. He stretched his legs and walked out through the open door. His eyes were searching for Kakkathiamma. She was no where to be seen.

He waited in the doorstep for a few minutes before calling out again ‘Amma, where are you?’.

He walked around the house and followed a path he saw.

He heard the sound of crackling of leaves in front. He advanced towards it, and saw a person collecting wood . He had a closer look. It was not Kakkathiamma. It was a tribesman he knew, Muthu. He called out to him. Muthu spotted Mashu standing there and rushed to him. Mashu told Muthu how he had got lost and about Kakkathiamma. Muthu’s eyes widened. Mashu asked him to help find her. Muthu was reluctant at first. Mashu convinced him to do a favour and that no body would know about it. Finally Muthu agreed. They traced back to the hut and started searching the surroundings. No signs still. Suddenly Mashu heard Muthu’s shout. He raced to the grove of cocoa trees.

She was lying there face down, a clutch of cocoa leaves in her hand. Mashu picked her up and asked for Muthu’s help. Muthu took a step back, ran and vanished into the woods.

Mashu took her in both his arms and edged forward. He reached the hut and laid her down in front of it. Checked her pulse. It was feeble. Hearing a sound he looked back and saw Muthu carrying a stretcher made of wines and bamboo.

Mashu helped Muthu to get her on the stretcher. Muthu led the way and in minutes the forest path was clear. A jeep came around the path loaded with herbs to the local market. Mashu stopped it and with Muthu’s help got Amma on the jeep.

Muthu stayed back and watched as Mashu and Kakkathi made way forward. Mashu completely understood and looked at Muthu with grateful eyes. Muthu smiled and went back into the forest.

Doctors and nurses had tried their best at the Clinic. There was not enough time to take her to the nearest hospital. She opened her eyes for a brief moment. She held his hand. ‘God Bless you son’ . He could feel the warmth of her body receding. A life devoured by the ghosts of her past.

Six years have passed since that day. He couldn’t blame the tribesmen, this was how their tradition had survived over the years. Untouched by outsiders, their customs still lived on. And Kakkathiamma still lived on in the heart of Shridharan Mashu.

In these woods,

Live ghosts entrapped,

The ghosts of life,

That is past;

The ghosts of many,

Entwined, in destiny’s lap;

Heed your ears,

And you will hear,

Follow your eyes,

And you will see,

Free yourself,

And you’ll believe,

That the world beyond

Is nothing but an image of yours.

A life of happiness

2008-05-12T16:09:00.014+05:30

Happiness: We rarely feel it.
I would buy it, beg it, steal it,
Pay in coins of dripping blood
For this one transcendent good.
-Amy Lowell

Gifted with wings of butter and gold,

Out he came from his silky mold.
Enjoying the breeze and the morning sun,
Fluttering his wings , the journey had begun.
No more a life than a phase of the moon,
But such a sorrow in his flight is not borne.
A small gust of wind does make him sway,
But he does cheerfully make back his way.

[photo by droid]

He settled onto a bed of flowers,
Embracing 'em as though lovers.
He moved on from one to another,
Sucking honey as a baby from the bosom of his mother.
He lingered around each of them long,
Dancing to a perfectly crafted song,
And etching every moment in his memories,
Moments forever treasured and savory.

Alas! Now it is time for me to go,
To attend to my morning chores.
His life - a lesson for me and all ,
To be happy in spite of any fall.
I still watched him mused ,fading from my view,
Over the yellow,flower laden hills .
Each flower an experience, he will move on ,
Till time wouldn't stop- to wait for him anymore.

--Rahul Nair
12-MAY-2008

Disclaimer : Image has been obtained from the web and I do not claim any ownership for it.

അമൃതം

2007-12-05T14:57:00.003+05:30

കാതില്‍ വിതുംബുമാ സ്വരം,

എന്‍ മനസ്സില്‍ തഴുകി തലോടവേ ,

കൊതിച്ചു ഞാന്‍ ഒരു നിമിഷം ,

മിഴികളാല്‍ അവളെ സ്പര്‍ശിക്കുവാന്‍.

തെങ്ങുമാ നൊമ്പരം കണ്ണുനീര്തുളളിയായി,

കവിളില്‍ നനവാര്‍ന്നു വീഴവെ ,

അവളുടെ ഓര്‍മകള്‍ ഒരു മഞ്ഞുതുള്ളിയായി,

എന്‍ ഹൃദയത്തിന്‍ സ്പന്ദനം കവര്‍ന്നെടുത്തു.

സ്നേഹം തുളുംബിയ ഹൃദയത്തിന്നിപ്പോള്‍ ,

വിഷാദം കലര്‍ന്ന രാഗമായി,

വന്ധ്യമാം മേഘം കരയുമാ രാഗം കേട്ട്‌,

ജീവിതം താനെ നിലച്ചു പോയി.

താളത്തിലൊഴുകുന്ന പുഴയുടെ ഓളങ്ങള്‍,

താലമെന്തെന്നറിയാതലഞ്ഞു പോയി.

കാലത്തെ മാറ്റുന്ന കാറ്റിന്‍റെ അലകള്‍,

എങ്ങോട്ടെനില്ലാതകന്നു പോയി.

അവളുടെ ഓര്‍മകള്‍ എന്നെന്നും എന്നുള്ളില്‍,

ഒരു തീക്കനലായി ശേഷിക്കവേ ,

അങ്ങകലെ ജ്വലിക്കും സൂര്യ ഗോളം പോല്‍ ,

എന്‍റെ ജീവിതം കത്തി കരിഞ്ഞു പോയി.

പല ജന്മം മതിയല്ല മറക്കാനാ സ്മ്രുതികളെ,

സ്നേഹത്തിന്‍ ചൂടിനാല്‍ ഒരുക്കിയ ഹൃദയങ്ങളെ;

അവളുമായി വിരല്‍ കോര്‍ത്ത് നടന്നൊരാ ഓര്‍മകള്‍,

നെഞ്ചിലെ തൊട്ടിലില്‍ താലോലിച്ച മോഹങ്ങള്‍,

എല്ലാം ഒരു വിരല്‍ പാടുപോല്‍ എന്‍ മനസ്സില്‍ പതിഞ്ഞു.

എന്നെ തനിച്ചാക്കി പോയവള്‍ അകലേയ്ക്കു,

മണ്ണിനും വിണ്ണിനും അറിയാത്ത ദൂരേയ്ക്ക്,

എന്നുടെ ചുറ്റും നിന്നൊരാ മുളംകാട് ,

കാറ്റിനാല്‍ ഒരു രാഗം നെയ്തെടുത്തു,

എന്‍ മനസ്സിന്‍റെ ഭാവങ്ങള്‍ ഒഴുകിയൊരാ രാഗത്തില്‍,

തുളുമ്പി എന്‍ മിഴികളില്‍ കണ്ണുനീര്‍ത്തുള്ളികള്‍.

സൂര്യനെ മറച്ചു കാര്‍മെഘങ്ങളൊക്കെയും ,

മഴയുടെ താളം ഭൂമിയില്‍ പതിഞ്ഞു.

എന്നുടെ കണ്ണുനീര്‍ ഒപ്പിയെടുത്തവള്‍,

എന്നെ തഴുകിയിട്ടകന്നു പോയി.

--രാഹുല്‍ എസ്. നായര്‍

This is an old post which I am publishing again.

The first post was scanned sheets of paper!!

Click Here to go the first post.

Photo Courtesy
Sandeep Pillai
http://www.sandeep.pixelring.net/

ആമ്പല്‍ കുളം

2007-11-23T12:43:00.002+05:30

അന്നൊരു വേനലില്‍ കാല്‍ നനച്ചൊരാ,
ആമ്പല്‍ കുളത്തിനിതെന്തു പറ്റി;
ഇഷ്ടിക കട്ടയും സിമെന്റും കൊണ്ടുണ്ടാക്കിയ ,
ചുമരുകള്‍ക്കടിയില്‍ മറഞ്ഞു പോയി .

കല്ലെറിഞ്ഞുണ്ടായ ഓളങ്ങളും
പിന്നെ കാല്‍മുട്ട് തഴുകുന്ന ഇലകളും
അവയൊന്നും ഇല്ലിന്നു അവിടെ -
ഭൂമിയുടെ ഭംഗിക്കും ഭംഗമായൊരു
നാലു നില കെട്ടിടം മാത്രം .

പണ്ടു പാടത്ത് പട്ടം പറപ്പിച്ചതും,
കൂട്ടുകാരുമൊത്ത്‌ ചേറില്‍ കളിച്ചതും ,
പിന്നെ പോയി കുളത്തില്‍ നീന്തി കുളിച്ചതും ,
അങ്ങനെ ഒരു മോഹം ഇനിയാര്‍ക്ക് വെറുതെ.

ആമ്പലിന്‍ പൂവ് അടര്‍ത്തിയെടുത്തതും,
അയലത്തെ പെണ്ണിന്റെ പ്രേമം ചോദിച്ചതും ,
അവളുടെ ചേട്ടന്റെ തല്ല് മേടിച്ചതും ,
അങ്ങനൊരുപാട് ഓര്‍മകള്‍
ആ കുളം ഉള്ളില്‍ ഉണര്‍ത്തും .

അമ്മയുടെ അമ്മിഞ്ഞ പാലിന്റെ മധുരം

നുകരും പ്രായത്തില്‍ തന്നെ,
കംപ്യൂട്ടെറിന് ചോട്ടില്‍ അടയിരിക്കും
കുഞ്ഞുങ്ങലുണ്ടോ അറിയുന്നു
ആ കുളത്തിന്‍ മഹത്വം ;
അത് നല്കിയ ആത്മ സുഖം.

ഇനിയും ഒരു വേനലില്‍ പറ്റുമോ എനിക്കത്,
ആമ്പല്‍ പൂവുകള്‍ അടര്കാനും ,
ആ കല്പടവുകളില്‍ കിടക്കാനും ,
ഇല്ലിനി ഇല്ല , അങ്ങനെ ഒരു സ്വപ്നം,
എന്നതാണ് ദുഃഖസത്യം .

--രാഹുല് എസ്സ് നായര്

Photo Coutesy: Sandeep Pillai
http://sandeep.pixelring.net

സ്വന്തമാണു പക്ഷെ...

2007-10-27T23:33:00.002+05:30

എനിക്കു ഒരുപാടു ഇഷ്ടമുള്ള വരികളാണു .....
കോളെജിലെ ഓര്‍മകള്‍ വീണ്ടും... അവിടെ വച്ചു കുറിച്ച വരികള്‍...

സ്വന്തമായി ഞാനെന്നും കരുതിയതെല്ലാം,
എന്‍ പിന്‍ വിളികള്‍ക്കു കാതോര്‍ക്കാതങ്ങ്‌ അകന്നു പോയി.
മൂകമാം ഈ സന്ധ്യയില്‍ ഞാന്‍ ഒരു
ചെറുപുഷ്പ്പം പോല്‍ വാടി നില്‍ക്കെ,
ദൂരെ ആ സാഗരം പാടും ഒരു ഗാനം
കാറ്റായി എന്നെ സ്പര്‍ശിക്കവെ..
എന്‍ ഉള്‍കണ്ണൂ കണ്ടു ആ സത്യത്തെ..
ഒന്നും ആരുടെയും സ്വന്തമല്ല,
എല്ലാം മനുഷ്യഹ്രുദയത്തിണ്റ്റെ ചാഞ്ജാട്ടം മാത്രം.

എന്നു "സ്വന്തം",
രാഹുല്‍ എസ്‌. നായര്‍

ഒരു കടലാസിലെ കുറിപ്പുകള്‍

2007-10-18T23:46:00.000+05:30

കഴിഞ്ഞ ദിവസം പഴയയൊരു സഞ്ജിയില്‍ കിടന്ന കിട്ടിയ ഒരു കീറ കടലാസില്‍ എഴുതിയിരുന്നതാ...
തിയതി - 10-04-2006

നിറഞ്ഞു എന്‍ മിഴികലില്‍ കണ്ണുനീര്‍ തുള്ളികള്‍,
ഓരോ തുള്ളിയും സ്നേഹതിന്‍ കവിതകള്‍.
കവിളില്‍ നനഞ്ഞിറങ്ങിയ കുളിരാര്‍ന്ന,
വരികളില്‍ ചിലതെഴുതിയ കവി ,
നീയാണെന്‍ സുഹ്രുത്തേ....
നിന്നുടെ വരികള്‍ എന്‍ ജീവനില്‍,
തഴുകിയുണര്‍തിയാ ഗാനം,
സുന്ദരമാം സുഹ്രുത്തേ..
സുന്ദരമാം സുഹ്രുത്തേ..

അതിലെ മറ്റു കുറിപ്പുകള്‍...

കാറ്റില്‍ മണ്ണിന്‍ ഗന്ധമൊഴുകും നേരം,
നെഞ്ജില്‍ തേങ്ങും വിടയുടെ നൊംബരം...
(may be jithu and raghesh remember these lines....)

പിന്നെ ഇതും.....
COMSKYS RULEZ FOREVER... ;)

--Rahul Nair

A Gift To The Heart

2007-10-15T21:03:00.000+05:30

Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister.
~Alice Walker

I wrote about her when I was 7 years old, A poem for my school magazine. Of course I didn't write it my Dad did. Maybe I should have written this long Back.

Into earthly hands she was born,
An angel without wings to adorn.
Her radiant face and her full round eyes,
And those looks like she was about to cry,
Her childish giggles and her baby talks,
Still in my ears do ring with unlost charms.

I remember the moments when her lips curved down,
With a tiny trail of shiny tears,
And all this just to look her best,
In her cherry dyed favourite dress.

Aha! and how would I forget those pillow fights,
At the end of which she would run to Mom and Whine.
There went the cane on my buttocks,
Those are now joyful memories which in my heart do reside.

Times were there when I would cry in a corner,
After Dad's treatment on me was conferred. (Ooooh!! the thought of it still pains)
She would come and give me solace,(which was of course no good)
She would sit beside and see me through the phase.

And look now she is a fine Lady,
Who gives me advice as if I am the Baby,
Her baby talks now makes more sense
Alas.. It hasn't changed- the way she cries. [;)]

But she is to me still the little one,
Who cried for her cherry dyed favorite dress;
The angel without wings to adorn
But with lots of love to endow.

--Rahul Nair

A life without her...
I can't think About ...

The Mountain And The Wind

2007-10-02T14:50:00.002+05:30

The real religion of the world comes from women much more than from men - from mothers most of all, who carry the key of our souls in their bosoms.
-Oliver Wendell Holmes

He stood there so tall and proud,
An old wind still lingering around.
He was a fine mountain,
Enveloped in trees , streams and fountains.

He looked beyond those mountains greater
To see his mother his creator.
In a warm wind suddenly covered was he,
She had come sensing his anxiety.

[photo by foto3116]

She caressed him in gentle strokes,

Soothing the trees, streams and the rocks.
She was proud of him,her son
All that she in rain and sun had done.

She softened the rocks and -
Withered them into fine sand.
From which green shoots had -
Sprung up high and dyed.

She would blow the dark clouds over
For the beasts ,the birds and the flowers.
She guarded him from the heavy snows,
Lest he felt the bitter cold.

All these years of love and care
Had given her moments so proud and rare.
But she wouldn't stay there for long,
Her babies are waiting for their bed time song.

--Rahul Nair

Tears Of An Angel : Angels Do Cry

2007-06-06T21:55:00.002+05:30

"We shall find peace. We shall hear angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.”
Anton Chekhov
[image source unknown: contact me if the owner wants it removed]

Drops of tears on her heavenly cheeks,
Like dew drops on the olive leaves seep.
Her eyes were murky,gloomy and dull,
Those eyes so blue,so naive, so full.

Why she wept, why these tears,
Why so sad a lovely face?
May be this madness,May be this malice,
Or maybe just she wanted care.

The arms embraced and held her close,
The tears dried down to a blissful mood.
She felt so secure in those arms,
In the warmth of her mother, who loved her most.

This is how an Angel cries -
Through the eyes of an innocent child.
Because In them do Angels dwell
'til life is under the Devil's spell.

--Rahul Nair

In Search Of My Soul

2007-05-19T00:33:00.001+05:30

-LIFE IS MORE THAN MERELY STAYING ALIVE-

[Photo By jdl_deleon]

In times of anger,joy and pain
I have wanted to find him out;
From the depths of me and gain -
All those answers ,I had ever sought.
I thought many a times that I saw him far,
Though he appeared like a star in those velvet skies.
In times of calm , i have felt him close beside,
Though invisible he is to my earthly eyes.
I always thought of ways to feel him near;
I have thought of death and of wealth,
Thought of love and of prayer.
But what is it that takes me there
That I need to find ,before the heavens come near.
One day I believe he will hear my call,
And I will merge into ,him, My Soul.

--Rahul Nair

The Path To Revival

2007-03-26T09:32:00.001+05:30

[photo by Mirko Macari ]

Drowned in tears my life went on,
Engulfed in sorrow;shattered and lone.
Life is tough but so am I,
Even if skinless on ice I lie.
Shattered dreams whose wings bled so,
Didn't even show a path to go.
A path I laid through rocks and thorns,
Where it might lead my mind unsure.
The Heart is weak but my Mind is strong,
Hope my decisions never were wrong.
As I tread along the path halfway,
I do wonder if my heart shall cure or never it may.
But before dusk i hope to find a mead,
Where I can rest until again the sun leads.

And it continues.....

--Rahul S. Nair

The Landlady

2006-11-28T10:09:00.001+05:30

She screamed so loud,
Her eyes bright red,
Her child was scared and so was I,
My friend got scared and in bed he lie,
For five days through,
Brought down with flu.

A Fool came then and let her in,
To show her that the toilet's clean,
Gone was she in a second's split,
Hope that she doesn't get fits.

Then came the maid on a fine sunday,
She just cleaned the house and walked away,
The house did shine and sparkle for sure,
But beware, clean your home;
Or your money is gone.

---Rahul Nair

Toast To Frienship : to all my friends at college and to those lovely college days...

2006-08-06T10:59:00.000+05:30

Like leaves in a storm ,
Our lives together were flown,
Strong was the bond so formed,
Bound by the love we found.

The storm damped away ,
In the end of a hot summer May,
No longer could the smiles pertain,
Tears washed them down like an unwelcome rain.

But for once I thank a storm,
From which I was made strong,
Strong by heart and strong by soul,
Strong with friends who held my fall.

ഒരു ജന്‍മമായി

2006-08-05T18:07:00.002+05:30

This was a song composed by my friends Jithu and Jason. I wrote the lyrics. It was on the day before our CON Exam.We wanted to record it.But that is still a dream.

മഴവില്‍ നിറങ്ങള്‍ എഴുതുന്നൊരെന്‍ (മേല്‍)
അഴകേ നിന്‍ ലോല മിഴികള്‍,
കടല്‍ കാറ്റിനീണം പകരുന്ന നിന്‍
മനസ്സിണ്റ്റെ സ്നേഹ വരികള്‍,
അകലേ തേടുന്നതാരേ
അരികില്‍ ചേര്‍ന്നിതാ നില്‍പൂ,
മനസ്സില്‍ അറിയാതതാരേ,
അറിയാന്‍ തേടുന്നതാരേ,
ഒരു ജന്‍മമായി അറിയുന്നു നീ.

അറിയതേ അറിയതേ , (ഫീമേല്‍)
മനസ്സിലെഴുതുന്ന കവിത നീ,
മായാതെ മറയാതെ,
നെഞ്ജില്‍ ഉണരുന്നു പൌര്‍ണമി,
വിരലു നെയ്യുന്ന രാഗവും,
വഴുതി വീഴുന്ന സ്രുതികളും,
പറയാതെപോയതെതിലെ....

തളരാതെ തളരാതെ , (മേല്‍)
ചിറകിലേറ്റീടാം നിന്നെ ഞാന്‍,
ഏന്നെന്നും ഏന്നുളില്‍ ,
കനലിലെഴുതീടാം നിന്നെ ഞാന്‍,
കരളിലുയരുന്ന ദാഹവും, കനവിലെരിയുന്ന
മോഹവും ,കാണാതെ പോയതെതിലെ.

ശിശിരം തഴുകുമീ സന്ധ്യയില്‍, (ഫീമേല്‍)
ചെറുകാറ്റയി വന്ന നീ ആര്‌,
വെയിലേറ്റു വാടിയ വേനലില്‍
നീര്‍ തുള്ളിയായ്‌ വന്ന നീ ആര്‌,
എവിടെ എന്‍ ജീവനെ നീ,
നിഴലായ്‌ എന്തേ നീ നില്‍പൂ,
ദൂരെ കേള്‍കുന്ന ഗാനം,
മഷികൊന്‍ഡെഴുതുന്നതാര്‌,
തിരമാലയയ്‌ കര തേടി ഞാന്‍....

--Rahul S. Nair

AMRUTHAM (അമ്രതം)

2006-08-02T08:48:00.001+05:30

Oru panimillathe hostelil thedi thirinju nadanna oru vyazhazhchayanu ethu kurichathu...
Post Ur comments in this blog.............

A Rendezvous With Death

2006-08-01T20:37:00.001+05:30

[The following was the result of a class on microprocessors ]

A Rendezvous With Death

The fog blurred my visions,
Darkness took over my mind.
Rest it seemed was an unlikely experience;
I was falling,
Falling into the abyss of madness.

The days began scorching up;
My life a dried patch of land-
Devoid of all watery presence.
The ground gave away under me,
My feet plunging so deep,
Freedom was a faraway call.
But was it I thought I heard?

My mind screamed as I saw the apparitions on the horizon,
I watched them come near-
The carriers of death.
Horrid noises of the scavenging creatures
Howled in my ears.
Soon their piercing claws would pick me up
And fly into never ending darkness.
They hovered above me in circles like hungry vultures;
I closed my eyes and let myself into my fate.

Time flowed fast; the wait in vain;
The noises seemed to recede.
I opened my lids saw ‘em fluttering back as they came,
Till they vanished into the orange sun.
My feet moved under me,
The forbidden one-the light to my mind -creaked in,
The fogs lifted clearing my sights;
I saw ‘em all standing around me,
Eyes brimmed with tears.
It was only now I felt I was being loved by so a many.

Rahul.S.Nair
07/01/2004