Sunday, 28 August 2016

stealthily



aarengilum
kikkili idaarundo?

who comes stealthily
from behind, tickling grandpa
soft under the chin?

Saturday, 6 August 2016

firefly

firefly! how come
you blink inside my blanket
this cold monsoon night?
***** 

No strings attached

Last night I had this dream of us children flying kite on a mile-long green decline along which some fox had run chased by three curs putting chest to stubble to bite its back.

It could have been that I was reading about Reynard the Fox before going to sleep...

And now it was peaceful and pleasant and three kites--red, brown and yellow--flew in the blue sky, high and distant, yet so very near as though seen through a lens.

My nameless friend with marbles in his pocket (I don't know how I knew he had marbles in his pocket) had his kite snap the string and flutter down.

But the string trailing down got entangled with the branches of a tree that had suddenly sprouted up on the field and the kite steadied and flew resplendent in the sky once again.

My nameless other friend in petticoat and pig-tails then had her kite snap the string and flutter down.

But the string trailing down got entangled with the branches of another tree that had suddenly sprouted up on the field and the kite steadied and flew resplendent in the sky once again.

And then I found my kite was flying in the sky without a string. I was holding no string, yet the kite was in the sky, flying resplendent just as my friends'.

No strings attached. No strings attached,a cobbler, who sat bent at his wooden foot, mumbled to himself, shaking his head. I thought of asking him a question, but then realized he could neither see, nor hear me.

By this time I knew I was in a dream. And the cobbler, mumbling to himself, was somewhere else.

***** 

Thursday, 21 July 2016

haiku

in my dim attic
dad's old easy chair -- spotlit
in skylight, dust haze

***** 

Saturday, 16 July 2016

ushas

new day dawns, my dear!
listen to the rooster's call--
cock-a-doodle-doo!

***** 

Tuesday, 12 July 2016

Writing tip





After putting together my first book late in life, I realize there can be something of an overall theme in anything one may come to record in a diary kind of blog without the thought of a script.

Amidst the trash you shoot randomly on camera, you find the footage you need to tell your story. What you have to do is to put the bits in the proper order on the editing desk when you feel the theme is fully developed.

***** 

Return of Sherlock Holmes

Dear friends,
I am reviving this blog, asleep since April 2015.
Between then and now, I self-published a slender volume of poems Blow Again, North Wind, which is a collage of lines taken from this blog.


The book was launched at a meeting of my friends at the Thiruvananthapuram Press Club last month (June 19, 2016).
It is a kind of book you can read without any strain during a two-hour train journey. I am sure you will like it. There were two television interviews, in which I tried to describe what it was all about, perhaps unsuccessfully. The theme is just as elusive as the dissipating mist.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-RiJceyf30