I am a nobody

I am a nobody. This realisation happened to me recently as I gave up on my ambitions one by one. I gave up on my dreams of becoming a Tamil movie director a while back. I have a completed movie script with me as well as scores of ideas. I still grasped at wanting to be a writer writing english novels. A while back I gave up on that too, I have a finished novel and a few incomplete ones too. I won’t blame external factors alone for my failure as I realise I probably wasn’t fit  enough or bestowed with talent needed to succeed and make it big. I have a restaurant that is yet to make profit. You can’t give up your dreams without grasping something else though that is what I did. My restaurant is where at least I must focus but there isn’t much to do with the Corona lockdown.

Being a nobody is acceptable to me. I am not craving for recognition but for utilisation so that people can benefit from my living as so far I have benefited from the world and given zilch in return. I am the absolute worthless nobody. I am a single who has recently, very lately, hung the ‘For Sale’ board in the arranged marriage market. I knew romance once and it is enough, I now crave kids and a family. Finding a bride for me is proving to be tough at thirty eight. I have nothing to live for as I stand. I want to benefit at least a few before I die. What is in my hands is nothing.

This blog with three hundred odd followers and averaging three to four likes is not going to cut it. Not only because it is meagre but also because of its demographics. The crowd here has few Indians and absolutely no Tamilians as far as I know. I want to connect locally, to be used for a greater cause. I am a classic rebel without a cause. The cosmos better send some cause for me soon for I fear I will end without use even after several more years have passed. I have something to give with no takers and that worthless feeling is horrible. Given my personal situation having no hopes of improving soon I felt like putting myself forward. This blog having been a personal blog for so long with so many of my so called poems I can’t change it or use it now in another direction or can I? I   have some ideas for changes in the world and concretely in my home state Tamil Nadu.

A few posts won’t cut it. I must live a life of commitment and dedication to benefit others.   I am a nobody and will the world guide me to become somebody that is utilised at least partly?



Go away, silly one

Go away, silly one, that don’t know of loss,

dub yourself loser, leave joker, laughter not here,

wailed a lady in crowd, all noise did pause,

now clad colourful, old black dresses didn’t smear;

I spoke, I lost but a dream, not living, loving soul,

came not to mourn or share, yet I do care,

gone days of joy, nights of sleep, dreams stole,

gone thunder, rain, rainbow and lighting’s glare;

what desert, as gone the sand beneath my feet,

gone breeze, even mighty sea without time to see,

gone sweet home, now a thorn, my last retreat,

no refuge, no place known to shelter, nowhere to flee;

innocence lost, ignorance cost, spoilt forecast, time flew fast,

gone courage, morals, little laurels, tears and laughter,

gone stories, movies, idle banter, carefree canter of past,

know not where all went, my life spent, grew softer;

pride, confidence, dreams gone with skill and wisdom,

never lost any near and dear, just lost an empty dream,

not compare losses, my misery trifle, akin to boredom,

you lost forever, loved ones, to death, time’s stream;

music, song, poems and prose scribbles died long ago,

forgot drinks, dinners, friends with just cigarette in hand,

didn’t love a soul, lost none, yet your grief with me grow,

despite troubles and sorrow, your feet planted firm on land;

for you love and so live, I merely forgive, you strive, you give,

give your thought and action calmly to those that remain,

those gone, a strong memory, you forever mourn and grieve,

parent, sibling, child or friend, leave void, stain uncleared by strain;

but folks enshrined in history to pavement dweller has to leave,

all love, except vile like me that can’t, from terrorist to rapist,

even I can’t deny being loved, a love that can’t be worn on sleeve,

gone sun, stars, days and nights, not the memory in our midst;

cherish memory with tears or laughter,

dead find lease in your memories, yet how long,

perish with you, you a memory, ones in your’s, lost chapter,

no matter, unsought immortality, till lasts hear love’s song;

Go away confused one, come when know what you want, what to say,

let us in peace pray, why without clarity or purpose, you here stray?

(This is partly done and shall be continued in future posts)





A tiny world

A tiny world is this blog,

that mimics life,

for I familiar faces log,

but disappear without strife;

to return a stranger to all,

sad it happens also in my reality,

for alone I falter and fall,

busted long ago hoax of my ability;

yet giving up on hope,

I have learned to live,

giving up climb don’t need rope,

no need to accept though I can’t give;

dawned that should never be serious,

and in levity rest all that was furious.

Ate Soul, hunger for fame

Ate soul, hunger for fame, well known name,

pained yet jumped for it shameless low,

not anymore, calm without regret, quit the game,

gained peace, sweet release, normalcy show;

cyberworld eased need for sharing,

does it matter, one view or a million,

for there is skill daring in soul baring,

when giants given space who deny minion;

truly free now, not just me but writings too,

joys galore to be had scribbling in reckless abandon,

now, alone relish bizarrely tasty stew I brew,

gentler winds in my world where nothing undone;

won’t believe there is great joy withdrawing from success,

yet there’ll be a day the world slows from Tokyo to Texas.

Oh, my cute, loving, little daughter

Oh, my cute, loving, little daughter of dreams,

how light, easily I pick you up to toss you in air,

you smile dwarfing beauty of golden sunbeams,

gentle hand on head, forever be in my hair;

constantly change your diapers and wash you clean,

am not a kid playing house all innocent and ignorant,

but dutiful father on whom you can forever lean,

a reliable friend, my soul all yours, never a tyrant;

joyful when I see other kids but soon they go home,

none to take home except you a painful wish unfulfilled,

to see you real will cross seven seas or forever hell roam,

daughter is all I ask, easily granted all, why me thus billed?

defeated, what can I do? Poor me, unfit for marriage,

if only could immaculately conceive and quell my rage.



Cute Dimpled Daughter

Cute dimpled daughter of my dreams,

heed not the world and never cry,

never be serious it will tear your seams,

never aspire, perspire or try for anything high;

forget the fools around and forever relax,

you are your own world, the one that matters,

this dawns at end, enjoy each moment to the max,

ambitions, work, purpose, all myth that scatters;

be selfish, accept love but love yourself most,

love isn’t a duty but a joy to cherish so never strive,

can’t escape pain, discerningly share till becomes toast,

be tempestuous, moody, but test waters before dive;

Oh, dear daughter don’t ache but live for this daddy,

judged unfit by the world to even be a caddie.


Diary (12/03/2019)

My restaurant is still being readied and hopefully would start soon. The blog is the greatest to have happened to me. Yet it is not an apt forum for posting novels. I have joined wattpad. This is where I stand on wattpad. I am determined to have my novel read even if it meant I have to read all the novels the site hosts. The blog shall always be my first love. I am damn poor in social media. I don’t use Facebook or Twitter though I have accounts. If possible I’ll rectify it. But I shall always have my blog.


Here we stand naked

Here we stand naked,
with our wares on display,
few ashamed, many expectant,
as toys in a grand play;

we are judged and rated,
few relished, many discarded,
what cruelty this atrocity,
a race on, to be awarded;

not hidden exposed in total,
beauty or the flaws obscure,
yet for some, beautiful all naked,
they the true connoisseur,

some don’t relish such scrutiny,
truly beautiful in their brutish mutiny.

I spurn you not

I spurn you not my love, my blog,
my dream of a novel is going brisk,
that failed to whisper here or even log,
why bother? both efforts do with great risk;

little gained in lieu of idle time spent,
away from boredom, a sneaky serpent,
else naught earned, how pay the rent,
blame you not yet wayward I’ve went;

you both, dreams in my world mundane,
that keep me going through the grind,
the hope that prevents me going insane,
a greed beyond your help to unwind;

that one day you’ll make me famous and rich,
but my hair gone grey as I still remain in the ditch.

I love the little orange ball

I love the little orange ball near the bell,

signals some one likes my work well,

I eagerly lie in wait for it to appear,

and count it one by one till I wear;

this is healthy as it motivates to write,

but not long ago clueless kids did bite,

a so called blue whale challenge,

the addiction that ends in suicidal plunge;

these verses rhyme but mime prose,

no metaphor, symbol or imagery dose,

yet addicted I scribble and babble, 

like playing a solitaire scrabble;

but I do capture my weary wandering soul,

that cheer a traveler like me to try his goal.