The dam swelled in torrential rains,
stopping for now the cursed floods,
not crumbled by overwhelming pains,
built at cost of many men’s bloods;
take one more he said and from the top fell,
not getting any wish including love chased,
stupid should have chosen a well,
for swept ashore battered and bruised;
gone mind, gone body, not burning soul,
tormented alone it begged for someone more,
restrained by ethics how to reach goal,
what use to end in uninhabited shore;
the world is cruel to all those loyal,
as the impostors become royal.
I reluctantly wanted to play wedded role,
not for enticing pleasure the bed had,
but tugged by pain of the solitary soul,
sadly the world judged unfit me mad;
no takers even as I ready for anyone less,
beggars can’t be choosers for me a lie,
in desperation I fixed my sight on a goddess,
vowed even if die not to let her pass by,
but how? not by madness or goodness;
atheist I bowed to god, nature and cosmos,
blessed by much but not her who I pine,
to get her no agony was a loss,
let world perish I want to make her mine;
as part of her clan thought had rightful claim on her,
kind not to force her, killed wedding from society to world’s horror.
யார் வீட்டு கல்யாணத்துக்கோ நான் மாப்பிளை என நினைத்து போய் கை சுட்டு வந்த கோமாளி நான்.
I went to some stranger’s wedding thinking myself as the groom and got burnt, such a fool am I.
[This saying is a result of an incident. I love kids, who doesn’t, and was invited to the sports day in my mom’s play school. I waltzed in as an owner instead of the observer I was supposed to be and got embarrassed.]
I am like you, a bit less for not striving to reach my potential. But this isn’t about me. I strive to understand any opposition as they come from some place sincere or even if they be other cynical justifications. In the south of India Hindu and Hindutva are not just polar opposites but are enemies. I understand the space for hindutva too and where it comes from unlike some liberal Hindus who treat hindutva as an abomination. Hinduism and Islam have thrived alongside thousands of years and will continue to do so even if it be with Hindutva on the side. This subject is connected to this very blog. It was the demolition of the Babri mosque and the killings that followed that spurred me, then a ten year old kid, to write his first verses. Two decades have passed even as the stigma of its aftermath linger on. Let others worry over what has been done. Has anyone passed to consider what could be done. I am not stating or proposing anything new but only voicing the thoughts of the moderates. Let there be a temple and masjid in the town while the disputed land having recreated in to a place for religious unity and national integration. The generation next has shown me its power with reinstating Jallikattu on a spontaneous whim. Someone spread the word and make true what is in the hearts of a majority of Indians to transform the disputed land now the responsibility of a government controlled trust in to a symbol of integration and build a mosque and temple side by side in the same town. Let there be even a mere empty space, a symbol of the travails withstood to let love win at last. This is mere wishful thinking. Let the gods above and humans below make it true.
I must defeat god,
for that I run hard,
to get what not had,
even if the ways be bad;
not a battle this fought,
a war torn heart wrought,
mighty me defeat him even if wear,
to grab, conquer hearts here;
the end is near,
there is no fear,
despite the tear,
curses people smear;
predicted to loose all in this scuffle,
shan’t give up as this is how I shuffle.
(After Marakkurangu) quidditch is the first and most famous coed sport in the world but the fact that it can be played without brooms in reality is lost to the world is a sad thing, no need of broom but all you need is a coed team of friends and family.
Odd things happen around me,
I ain’t sad but just bad,
not health, wealth or character see,
all to me a passing fad;
me wise is a king of the vices,
gambler courting luck, quick buck,
waiting to trap any princess of spices,
but me frank in murk, a sitting duck;
easy hunted by her guards,
yet I tarry forward towards danger,
haunted by female magic wards,
beg to hunt down, me lonely ranger;
let world send hell or heavy water,
will take home my prize with laughter.
Knowing is not doing,
I know killing,
doing is not feeling,
I do nothing,
feeling is not being,
I feel everything,
being is not living,
I be lost and drowning,
living is not loving,
I live for pleasures tempting,
loving is for enjoying,
I love just my sensuous pleasuring,
enjoying is escaping at joy’s ending.
When you change for the better even a little the world changes drastically for you, so be ready to face them and embrace with joy.
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.