At high noon

At high noon stared back at life,

what was got and what was lost,

time to reckon, not forced by strife,

but a tryst made by a longing past;

to cherish great joys and go when diminish,

joys that good can’t sustain and did lessen,

to keep promise, mid journey perish far before finish,

leave my rewards blind as much as miseries beyond reason;

unworthy final song, yet got no more to offer,

curse this duffer that gave little,

but decided long ago to die when it is time to here suffer,

dared challenge hell and heaven me brittle;

had great joys even as believe love and memories perish,

yet happy to carry them memories to the grave,

all say there are reasons more in life to cherish,

brave are those that live so pay no heed to my last rave.

Current behind screen person

In the era of heros like M.G.R and Sivaji, a director K.Balachandar (and Bharati Rajaalso) was setting trends as a director launching Kamal and Rajini. In era of Kamal and Rajini it was Manirathnam who used these heros too but was a pull factor even behind screens. In era of Ajith and Vijay who would be the one director who will last long with a career as these heros you reckon? I loved Iraivi and so Santhosh Subramanian and despite hating Petai laud him for trying Rajini and mainstream. Who will outlast these heros as directors behind the screens?

When I am general

When I am general many things will happen,

even meaningless battles may cease with effort,

but one thing certain, I will never forget my first batallion,

worthy lieutenant or soldiers who for me took hurt;

I dream an army of women, my wish their command,

it was dreamt real and shall happen even if the world stills,

as such dreams of mine are prophecies from a divine hand,

all got skills of a general, risk death each instant like me none wills;

An army at my hand and not conquest my objective,

yet to feed army and its dreams many conquests needed,

Why? I want to give, have little other reasons to live,

a kinder general to soldiers you can’t find even as enemies weeded;

a fighter is made and I came out of world’s scorn,

when I am general the world would wish I was never born.

முட்டி பசி (Tamil monostitch explained)

முட்டி பசி வயித்து பசியை விட வலிமயானது என்பதை அறிந்தவர் மட்டுமே இந்த வாழ்க்கயில் எட்டா உயரத்தை அடைவார்கள்.

Those who know that hunger of the knee ( to denote fake hunger in tamil) is stronger than a hungry stomach will alone reach great heights.

Warrior – Midwife’s Daughter – 1

Surveyed from atop hill the lush green valley below,

reddening by the moment with blood of battle,

warring world, yet he at peace till now forced low,

not his war, yet to reach her must kill all in his way, human cattle;

she, he fixed in his mind as wife a while ago,

when he decided to marry disavowing bachelorhood,

as loneliness begged and society shunned single’s ego,

jubilant at married prospect, not knew had to hunt for that food;

there was a manhunt for him as he chased his to be bride,

but he killed no man, only men, powerful ones,

to take her against her will, failed begging her family swallowing pride;

her guardian a powerful general seeking a prince for her,

she a kid not knowing right from wrong,

he unfit to marry any girl had no choice but to grab his wonder,

barely knew her yet can’t turn, fought in her name battles long;

this was his frank war in a cunning world, his first and last,

he a goat forced in to a lion by a world of hyenas and foxes,

this wonder girl wasn’t the midwife’s daughter, that dream past,

planned life success, did zilch, now on way to his wonder ticked old boxes;

had claim to wonder girl from long dead ancestors,

that started his battles chasing her to reach this hill top,

no mountains scaled yet, no longer playing kid but playing fighter,

but choosing responsibility first time, this game started, till end can’t stop,

as warrior now, can battle back to unclaimed mid wife’s daughter;

yet didn’t sway as descended hill alone with a mad roar,

loved few but only to mid wife’s daughter proposed,

rejected till accepted, yet incomplete without kids to soar,

yet farewell due, bodies fell left and right in his charge as he love mused;

he had no direction to go but forward, however tough the path,

wonders chosen and made so by worthy beholder,

yet is it worth to go this far for a whim to cause this blood bath,

no love song to grab girl, he spurned and spurred by society got bolder;

(to contd. if in mood)

Swamped

Swamped, my house with muddy green moss,

evidence of long gone rain with water receded,

never far from house, mused surely other homes be in same pause,

how my home became a house? my heart pleaded;

where laughter gone from my home heard far away?

is it brief lull? will joy of bygone days fill haunted walls again?

is expectation my bro pushing us to worth the sway?

I who make all laugh can’t make him smile and dubbed cause of our strain;

I pleaded happiness worthier than cause, pledged duty to ability in vain,

we need the rains to fill the wells though dicey,

even swamped and flooded wrecking with pain,

we can’t live without it or with it is idiocy;

we find ways to live with or without it, do without fuss and gain,

be happy making hay in sunshine or paper boats in rain.

செவ்வுள்ளம் (Red soul)

(This is a tamil poem but english paraphrase but not translation is given below. Once my dad wrote a page long poem spending great time and showed me and I after admiring it flipped the page and fastly scribbled these four lines.)

அந்தி மறுகும் செவ்வானம் அழகெனினும்,

பிந்தய நினைவுகளில் மிஞ்சி சிவக்கும் உள்ளம்,

இன்று தொற்றேன் என அகிலம் பறயாற்றும் ஆனால்,

வென்று நின்றேன் அவ்வானை என் கிறோத கனலினிலே.

Though the twilight pining red sky is beautiful,

old thoughts exceed as the soul reddens,

today I lost, the world may decree,

yet I stood conquering the sky with my red hot anger.