Thursday, 31 December 2009

falling...

a momentous year
just gone by--still, i, bobbing,
hurtle down the fall...

*****
happy new year to all my friends!

Tuesday, 29 December 2009

click

this morning on the roof of my house i found a new nook.

a place where everything was new!
the perforated parapet streaking across in splashes of light and shadow to the right,
the flowing silhouette of a slanting palm balancing the frame to the left,
birds flying their different ways across the sky...

and i found a totally new answer to an old riddle!

*****

Sunday, 27 December 2009

transcendence

from dawn past into the midnight
we were on the cliff
overlooking the lagoon,
speaking nothing, watching
the fishermen flowing out with the ebb tide,
returning heavy with the evening tide,
and,
under the moon,
we found the ebb and flow,
out and in,
frozen
to the beyond.

*****

Friday, 25 December 2009

Merry Christmas!

I got this SMS greeting from a friend today and forwarded it to many friends:

He had no servants--yet they called Him the Master;
No university degrees--yet they called Him the Teacher;
No medicines--yet they called Him the Healer;
No army--yet the kings feared Him;
He won no military battles--yet He conquered the whole world.
So we celebrate the birthday of this great hero of all times, JESUS...
Merry X'MAS!

I cannot put it in better words. Merry Christmas to all my friends!

*****

Sunday, 20 December 2009

Writing

Experimenting with different ways of placing words in relation to one another, I have now come to the position that going straight for clarity is the best way of communicating.
What I mean is, don't think you have to be vague to make it sound a poem, don't consciously do that. But vagueness can also come when you try for the exact, because truth is that which cannot be put into words and the more words you use for clarity, the farther away from truth you go.
That is why the Bible is so full of parables, the great ones had always spoken in parables. You understand what I tell you, don't you?

*****
(This is a comment to a nice poem by my nephew and I think there is sense in it for all my young friends on the blog.)

life

like a thin twisting
wisp from a lit incense stick--
fragrance now and gone.

***

lest i forget

every body continues in its state of motion or rest,
unless acted upon by an outside force.

the outside force can be
in the nature of one's conditioning,
the conditioning of those around you,
or both in effervescent interaction.

how to steer ourself through this street,
without bumbing into one another
and injuring ourselves,
injuring our creativity,
injuring the feeling of being happy,
is also a test.

*****

Saturday, 19 December 2009

Why I blog

This is a slightly polished version of a comment I posted today in reply to another comment against one my pieces. I am putting it as a separate post since it is about why I blog.
I started this blog in August 2008 when I was in a kind of trauma (with a badly shaken ego), the details of which are irrelevant now.
Round about the same time I started going deeply into Krishnamurti and Osho and I started seeing what was wrong.
I started noticing that when I have an agenda or a desire all creativity in me is dead. The mind moves in two directions, either to the past or to the future, either weighed down or elated by what had happened in the past, or worried or spinning grand schemes of the future.
This process, whichever way the movement of the mind, bogs one down. One is not light and free to respond to the moment, neither in the profession, nor in personal life. It is very difficult to make the mind still. Only when the mind is still, I started noticing, can there be creativity.
This blog I started with the intention of watching this watching process in me, although there are other trivial things also in it. It is something for myself, and my friends on the blog are helping me along.
Thank you.

*****

Wednesday, 16 December 2009

leisurably

trying to stay sober
in the company of some of the most polished
gentlemen in the city,
after a couple of drinks,
can be tricky.

but a sudden thought sends a bolt
into my head:
does it really matter,
whether i'm sober or not
this night?
especially when i'm with
such a lovely gang of lovables in straight jackets
carrying a burden that never is,
especially also mr. pompous-hompous,
the company chief?

and suddenly i melt into the party
and tickle them all
by turns in the ribs
with rowdy jokes and greasy fingers,
for i am alternately eating
using no forks,
and forks and spoons and spoons and forks
get mixed up all the way...
nobody anymore can keep count how many.

we wake up the next morning,
each one at different hours, of course,
may be with a headache or two,
otherwise okay, if you know what i mean...
i in my bed...
well, i must confess,
i'm not too sure about mr. pompous-hompous!

the last i see of him...let me remember...
he stops his car...
at the city square...
under the statue...
emptying his bladder leisurably over its feet...
yes, singing like the dickens, throwing his head up,
into the night air,
the selfsame song of unrequited love
i had sung hugging him at parting time,
to the clapping of hands by the whole gang
of his obsequious subordinates.

he was empying thus at the feet of the universe,
singing my song till hearts should break,
when a police jeep...
lights circling,
came slowly c.l.o.s.i.n.g... in.

and i was cruising along the other side of the road...
silently.

*****

Tuesday, 15 December 2009

The deep resonance of poetry

I am sharing this article I had written for my newspaper with my blogger friends since it is about a 'poetry slam' to be held in Thiruvananthapuram this evening. My reading of Basho had come in to help me add colour to this piece.

This is the link: http://www.hindu.com/2009/12/15/stories/2009121558510300.htm

*****

A little finger

How complicated we have been making out our country to be!
Such a relief to learn, reading the newspaper, that Yuvraj Singh's injured little finger (of the left hand, which powers his merciless hitting of the Sri Lankan bowlers) is India's biggest worry on the 15th of December, 2009.

The match begins at 9 a.m., Indian Standard Time.

*****

Monday, 14 December 2009

the ball

the ball,
a sphere of leather hexagons
sewn tight in black and white,
its bladder pumped to the right temper,
lies in the middle of the indoor stadium,
totally at rest.

i take a run-in and kick it,
with a nice swing of the right foot,
and it sails
and hits the wall and bounces back
bum bum bum bum bum...
dribbling,
rolling round and round
and settling,
chuckling...
now, totally at rest.

*****

Sunday, 6 December 2009

north wind

whirl!
my girl's saree fringe
swirls,
round my face it
furls...

blow again, north wind!

*****

Friday, 4 December 2009

abuzz

no, no, not this tap--
ants busy winter hoarding
yesterday's tidbits.

*****

Thursday, 3 December 2009

i-look

"baby lakshmi-look!"

"scowl ambi-look,
brow sajo-look,
brains i-look."

*****

(an sms communication between my cousin brother and me after his seeing my grandchild's photo e-mailed to him.)

Tuesday, 1 December 2009

karthika

karthika lights blink--
our temple back home--should be--
glowing devotion!

*****
(karthika is the annual day of the deity of our family temple in the village. on that day we light oil lamps all around the sanctum santorum and all our family people, from far and wide, come to worship the Devi in the golden glow of a thousand lamps. when a child, i used to be a leading player of the whole show, especially in lighting the lamps and ringing the temple bell at the time of deeparadhana. it is also a day of family reunion. today is karthika. this time i could not go. the day came to me while driving home in the night after work and finding the houses on either side lit by karthika lights.)

*****