(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.
I created songs mediocre in vapours,
but happy, pleausured and content,
till all broke in thousand metaphors,
song enriched but I was spent.
When your thoughts walk the streets and try to actions bloom, few dreams fulfil but so do many nightmares so venture only if bold to face the worst.
(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.
Turbulent rivers cause smoothest pebbles and roughest pebbles are found in clear calm waters.
Accept defeat, fate or life as you would a burnt meal,
ignoring it you would be hungry and in pain,
accepting it you can at least rest best.
Will a restless soul find peace?
a lone wanderer shall always tire,
lost within like withered trees,
who will light his funeral pyre?
alone in his madness he walks,
never a part of a greater whole,
no company, to himself he talks,
longs for imprint of another soul;
how end his solitary foray,
who will stand by his side,
all pass through, none stay,
he walks with a sturdy stride;
life has tossed him to drift away,
must fight to reconquer his way.
I am downright filthy,
reeking of self pity,
glad to be wealthy,
yet shame of impurity;
wish to burn alive,
curing me of disgrace,
bees have a hive,
I have no one to face;
there will be a new dawn,
where I turn the tides,
a new vigour will be born,
be immersed in joy rides;
it isn’t question of me rising above,
but how many I drag out of their low.
The ships with people have left port,
why do you still loiter here,
what ecstasy seek, whom court,
is it the seas that you fear?
I bow my head in shame,
for I fear the sea of change,
my painful life will be forever same,
yet there is a lure of the strange;
I now lack the guts to sail away,
yet I can still dream and hope,
someday I be on the sea’s sway,
sailing away from pain me dope;
now that is a journey I’ve forever planned,
but what use for I am anchored to land.
I salute the wise and warm aged,
though they don’t like to be reminded,
will I grow old like this caged,
with my life a drag never mended;
if it were so let me now perish,
hope for joy is what makes me tick,
create sweeter memories to cherish
stamp imprint on world with a kick;
Will I in painful solitude grow old,
can fate be that cruel and me that bold,
will I find my herd as my story unfold,
will I be truly happy before I go out cold;
the years passed have been unkind,
the years ahead shall blossom as I unwind.