Inner Adventure

People hang from the Eiffel,
some tumble from the Everest,
these brave souls baffle,
even morons of least interest;

they tread the trodden,
risky yet with guides and ropes,
crazy paths yet beaten,
they belong to sane corps;

some dare paths less tread,
like Frost, Keats, that others dread,
yet truly crazy bare their chests out,
and pray for a bullet’s shout;

like true adventure worth the bullet is Che’s slack,
a path not white, not grey but brave black.

My Garden

Once we had a nice garden,
flower bushes, fruit trees all around,
everywhere planned greenery surround,
planted by my forefathers then;

in fear of stepping a green someone,
one never walks on the ground,
we children then were astound,
seeing carpet of rose, orange or lemon;

they tamed the wild forest green,
to create the green so mild,
but my brothers and I’ve been,
bent on destroying green world, wild;

now the barren desert seen,
has stolen the smile of my child.

Brave Heart

(All poems in the school day’s rhymes were written between the age of 13 and 16 and were meant to be a secret, a secret which later came to light. The following was written at 13 and isn’t exactly a poem, but the guilty confusions of the shy child about its nature and societal values as recorded by the child at that age. In fact poetry to the child was a code language it used to keep its secret safe from the prying eyes of others.)

The childish heart so tame,
the innocence, ignorance became;
a chink when grown to make lame
once bright enough to play life’s game;

broke all rules, none to blame,
then nothing was ever the same,
grew selfish, evil thoughts came,
conscience gone, never feel shame;

too much evil to frankly proclaim,
sinking in the flood like a dame,
even after death, sins too harsh to name,
not in fear of losing, if so, any fame;

but to prevent falsify love, life’s true claim,
betraying trust of loved one’s sublime,
yielding to pressures, pleasures of crime,
the guilty feeling unhealed by time;

confused possessive feelings, affection to slime,
unique morals and ethics its frame,
chasing mad impossible dream,
yet a brave heart to defy world’s scream;

the romantic ideas about crime,
to the flesh of my blood the flame,
the morals lost in the flooded stream,
alone, solitude, what pain and flame;

cunning and subconscious team,
to defeat nobility for sinister scheme,
to pull others my kind, kill them, affections gleam,
the motions of mind to actions beam;

till then no harm done, proper all seem,
but after that, its ethic couldn’t justify or redeem,
the irresistible evil sweetness of the cream,
when fed up grew bitter like neem;

cowardice,hypocrisy and villainy stem,
from need for love and devil’s whim,
and available true beauty near him,
bleeding heart is with sins to brim;

drowning heart, unable destination, stops swim,
murderous mind with glamour of crime, slim;
loving heart, source of happy and sad days dim,
angry, final march, crime revealed, shame;

strange message, heart more sad, agony’s prime,
felt need to pacify likes of them,
resolved none shall be helpless,
will hedge myself to help them climb.


O ye beautiful rose,
seeing thy charm I froze,
can I never come close,
smelling thy scent I doze;

among flowers more pleasant,
thou reign man’s mind,
thy beauty or beauty thou adorn,
on beautiful beauties thy ascent;

thy heart is never kind,
it makes others torn,
thy skin glows blood red,
the color men dread;

seeing thou gets misled,
not who toils for bread,
does he know thy beauty,
will he hold you in his hands;

you rumpled in rough embrace,
shall be famous for eternity,
he’ll sing your praise in distant lands,
his dirt shall shine your face;

when he tries to hold,
raise your head and chin,
don’t touch, is he told,
by a thorn piercing skin;

you who have a soft petal,
why you have a thorn?
more a curse than a boon,
to nature’s smooth recital;

happy maiden you fair born,
outshine other’s too soon,
sun above and land below,
is all you need to thrive;

with mighty time you mellow,
none surpass till you survive,
when you go buds shall blossom,
finding courage to overcome shyness;

newborns awaken at first light,
go on till they get tiresome,
with all their finesse,
and sleep in peace at night;

the dew over you,
the chill early morn,
when moon bids adieu,
there beauty born;

you lived in all glory,
yet when you fell,
none sheds a tear,
forgotten your story.


I touched that has not known touch,
the cold door squeaked to give way,
the doomed room I survey,
dust in my nostril made me lurch;

dirt collected since time unknown,
bad odor got to the skin and bone,
I shrank from the stinking room,
in despair laid down my broom;

to this day I never cursed fate,
that made the ignominious sweeper,
but instead felt truly great,
to clean the world of dirt and despair;

many a valiant tried to clean it,
dirt still got accumulated,
by their efforts stimulated,
I came but lost hope and wit;

there was some evil shapeless,
but this room was hopeless,
got a bent back sweeping all day long,
can feel something deeply wrong;

cold souls dump their waste,
a curse I should taste,
easy to fight an enemy known,
but how to fight the unknown;

fought waste when none liked its taste,
waste is all I am, I shall soon waste,
then someone else shall sweep,
but not a soul will weep.


Life is a swim through the rivers of time,
against the currents and storms of trouble,
or with the currents and breeze of pleasure,
faith is a pole extended from nowhere;

unfortunately it comes with thorns attached,
thorns inflicting pain make swim miserable,
one can swim without it and with joy,
but then comes the fear of drowning;

the pole without thorns is what we want,
some aware of this yet can’t hold pole,
to them are no poles, they’re invisible,
they are the ones blinded by science.

Mighty Meek

The poor one weak and meek,
the mute can’t speak or seek,
hope that heroic roman or greek,
shall save him seems bleak;

but due to some fatal leak
in the plans of that weak,
the mouse runs in a streak
before the cat so sleek;

the cat pounces in the creek,
winds and clouds cause a freak
eagle to have a close peak
from atop a mountain peak;

the eagle picks the cat with its beak,
the cat in fear gives a shriek,
omens, spirits or some mystique
the cause, the mouse was saved is oblique.

Life’s Concern

To all life is a gift,
it is more than food shelter,
joy even when without food is better,
but some fools refuse this so swift;

unknown to beauty unseen cause opinion rift,
all the fragrance known is of the gutter,
never allowed the wings to flutter,
they’d understand once given a lift;

dirt or neat, pigs don’t discern,
the many pleasures unknown to the beggar,
all these rebukes made hearts burn,
at last was heard the voice of anger;

to many food isn’t life’s main concern,
cause never felt the pangs of hunger.


எதிரிகள் என யாருமில்லை
இருந்தால் அனைவரும் தான்
நண்பர்கள் என யாரும் இல்லை
இருந்தால் அனைவரும் தான்
உறவுகள் என யாருமில்லை
சாகவில்லை சலித்து விட்டனர்
நத்தை மீது பாசம்
எத்தனை கால காத்திருப்பு
சுய நலம் கொண்டவனை மன்னீக்கலாம்
எப்படியும் தனியாக பிழைத்திடுவான்
சுய நலம் கொண்டு சுய நலன் அறியாத
மூடன் என்னை என் செய்வார்

சக பயணிகள் கூட இல்லை
பயணம் என்றால் பாதயுண்டு இலக்குமுண்டு
வழிபோக்கன் எனக்கு பாதை இல்லை
ஆனால் எனக்கும் கூட இலக்கு உண்டு
எதிரி என இருந்திருந்தால்
அவனை வென்று இலக்கு கிட்டும்
நண்பன் என இருந்திருந்தால்
அவனை கொண்டு இலக்கு கிட்டும்
திறமை என இருந்திருந்தால்
யாதும் இன்றி இலக்கு கிட்டும்
ஒன்றும் இல்லை என்தனிடம்
என்ன செய்து இலக்கை எட்ட

இலக்குமது வித்தியாசம்
நன்மை இல்லை தீமை இல்லை
தொடுவானம் தன்னில் எந்தன் இலக்கு
எவன் எவனோ வகுத்த வட்டத்தில்
குடும்பம் என்றும் குழந்தை என்றும்
மகிழ்ந்து நின்ற போதினிலும்
புரியாத என்னை கண்டு
கொக்கரிக்கும் பேதைகளை
கவிழ்ப்ப்து எந்தன் இலக்கு அல்ல

மாறுபட்டு அவர்களுக்கும்
நன்மை செய்ய விரும்பி நின்றேன்
அரசாழும் பருந்துகளும்
கொடுமை செய்யும் பணத்தவரும்
தவறுகளை விடுத்து நின்று
அவர் கொட்டத்தை அடக்கிடுவேன்
இதிலும் விட முக்கியமாய்
பிஞ்சுகளின் நெஞ்சத்தில்
படி இல்லை அடி
எனும் பாவம் பெற்றோர்

அவர் பிழை பொறுத்தாலும்
வேலை பணம் மட்டும் முக்கியம்
எனும் மூடர்களும் விட்டு விட்டு
இவை அனைத்தின் காரணமாம்
கோடி போட்டி உலகத்தின்
வேகத்தை குறைத்திடுவேன்

எப்படி என குழம்பி நின்றேன்
சீ குவேறா மந்திரத்தை
நான்கு முறை சொல்லி வந்தேன்
வெறி கொண்டு பொறி தட்டியது
புரட்சி ஒன்றே முடிவு என்று
அதற்கு தேவை காவு ஒன்று
அரசாழும் அறக்கர்களின்
இயந்திரத்தை உலுப்பி விட்டு

துணிந்த நெஞ்சம் இங்கே என
தோட்டாக்கள் எங்கே என்பேன்.