An Odyssey

I bid my byes  and closed my eyes  knowing my time is nigh. I set sail to the lands beyond   Abandoning all to morbid cold. When Winter comes so ends my sojourn. Me  Autumn, I die, again, waiting to be reborn.

Happy Valentine's Day! Like a sail on waters still Waiting for the western wind, I stay moored in seas of time To feel your every breath in mine. Like how tulips in darkness fold and open for the rays of gold, My dreams dwell dormant in their womb Till your warmth will make them bloom. Like how swallows in winters cold Fly to sunny southern shores, My soul has flown away with you  For it is yours to keep and own. And like the trees that wait for spring and rain, I wait here for you to make me whole again.

F ive minutes more Not today, tomorrow for sure You are tired You work too hard You look perfect Diet and compensate A  month more to go Bad nose block Its raining  Legs are paining The fog is thick Its cold , you'll fall  sick. I have this crazy idea, in my bucket list, of running a full marathon.  Even though my body has been designed with the remotest possibility of accomplishing such a feat, I thought to give it a try. As an initial scare I decided to participate in the half marathons of Kaveri Trail and Ultra marathon events of 2011. To my utter surprise and shock it seems I cannot run 21 km without practice. So I have to (try to) get up every day morning and complete at least a quarter of the total distance which till date I have successfully failed to do.  The d day is September 18th, after which depending on my availability on Earth (might as well be Heaven by the time I f...

[I hear her voice, in the mornin’ hours she calls to me The radio reminds me of my home far a-way And drivin’ down the road I get a feeling’ That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday.                                -Country Roads, John Denver] T his life in strange company - Lonlier than lonliness. I burn in sorrow Under the rays of a stranger Sun. Shadow's a familiar face, Ever a silent one.  By Faceless Voices And voiceless dreams, Pains are poisoned even more. I suffer in silence. Miles from myself On this stranger shore, Counting time till summer comes When the tides shall take me home. [Wow, this blog was dead for a year. Not dead, there are some half dead drafts. Never could complete any of them. I should kick myself in the a$$, beacuse i missed something I loved doing]

Brown suit, Hefty voice, Subduing charm. 'Dreams Sold Here!, Pick one if you may', he told. It is an unfinished post. I couldn't finish it. Anyway Somethings better than nothing. Its been some time, I know. I was getting adjusted to one of those dreams that I bought. Life in a different city is exciting with lots of places to see, different people, different climate, different culture. But  when you weigh all these differences ,there is  always the one which makes the weighing machine go beserk. I think you got it right. Sheesh.. Why don't dreams come free!! Click To Subscribe Rate This Post

photo by h.koppdelaney on Flickr I wanted to stay till everyone left. To see everyone off, To wish a very good bye, Before I start on this journey of mine. But life isn't that way, Is it? Always bereft. Every single laugh Canceled out by a cry, Negating all positives with the pass of time. It is never easy, being Change's subject. The heaviness of loss, The ebbing of joy, Desperate attempts to foil Fate's design. Now my name is on the rolls, And I hear him knocking at my door..... Its a reflection back on my life.. Change has come many at times and I have been forced to move on... So heres my thoughts on that in words... Status : Missing friends back at Bangalore.... Click To Subscribe Rate This Post

By pincel3d on deviant art An empty reflection in the mirror, Of Twenty and hundred pounds. I, the worthless wayside whore, Had her dreams for a day crowned. That moment was Chance's child, Whom Fate did father wrong. A day to spend, a night to dine, Nothing more - a request queerly odd. A day we spent in eternal bliss, A day together, forever remembered. Helios' chariots gave way for Selene's grace, He bid his fare and in the shadows retreated. Never made love in a way as such, Hearts embraced and flesh withdrawn. Never made love in a way as such, In Passion's triumph, lust overthrown. I know its strange And the feeling stranger. But I can't explain how I felt When I made love with the stranger. An empty reflection in the mirror, Of Twenty and hundred pounds. I, the worthless wayside whore, Had her dreams for a day crowned. [ I tried my best to capture a story i had in my mind as a short poem. I hope you guys got the story... :) . The title is in french ...

[Cafe Writing March April Project : http://www.cafewriting.com/2009/03/marchapril-2009-project-in-the-garden/ Option One : Poetry Weather means more when you have a garden. There’s nothing like listening to a shower and thinking how it is soaking in around your green beans. ~Marcelene Cox Using the quotation above as your inspiration, write a poem (any form is fine) about weather meaning more. ] [Photo By : wGGta on Flickr] S plattery Splat Splattery Spalt, The rain drops drummed on the window pane. The sun and clouds in mortal fight, No Longer scorched the soil remains. Croakery Croak Croakery Croak, the big green frog in my garden cries. Pussycat dear from his noon nap woke, the time is here to mince more mice. Rickety Rock Rickety rock, Under my burden the wooden chair grunts. And a mug of cream and coffee thick, Would you wish or anymore want? Screakery Squeak Screakery Squeak, I hear the hinge on the farmhouse door. A howling wind unab...

[This lovely piece of art is by Julianne . See it on Flickr] I wish i could see her every night, Every day in every sight. So stare, and stare would I, Eyes fixed on a cloudless sky. I wish that she would dance, She would fly in a graceful stance. A silky gown she would wear, And give the sky a shiny scar to bear. I wish i could hold her hands, Hold her close and hold her tight, Embrace her into a lovely waltz, Which would even the heavens exalt. I wish I could survive, Could dream and could stay alive, In hope of the day I would unite With my ever eluding woman of light. ***** [ I am sure most of you haven't any clue as to what i am rhyming about. The story goes like this. I have never seen a falling star in my life (so uncool, i KNOW!!). This attempt at a poem is for the lady of my life whoever she might be and wherever she might be, because I haven't seen her either. So I thought it might be appropriate to compare her with a falling star, neither of whom have met in m...

N ever a tinge of colour in life, Forever etched in black and white. Ever obeying the master's bid, To follow him till death decides. Caged in cold and stony walls, But still an ally through love and war. Not a sound, not a word, Not a drop of tear to shed. Dark, a fiend; Light, a friend; A man at dawn, A child at noon, And again a man, At sundown. What is there in such a life, To be the slave of another man? I do wonder so, About the life of my Shadow. Click To Subscribe Rate This Post:

Darkness was falling. He quickened his steps. He had to reach the valley before nightfall. Falling prey to some hungry carnivore was not the best of ideas. Shridharan Mashu ( Mashu means master in Malayalam) checked the time on his watch and also the sky.6:30, the twilight was fading, and that was bad. It would be dark in a matter of minutes, as it happens in this part of the country. The old battered torch was of no use in this dense forest. Shridharan Mashu was a respected man in the village. Still a bachelor, and in his early thirties (Sweet 30's as he would call it); he was a teacher in the village in Wayanad. He taught at the only L.P. school in the village. He was happy that at least there was a school now. During his days, he had to walk 20 miles to the nearest school where he studied. He was perhaps till now the only person in the village who had gone to college. Being the son of the forest officer he was more privileged than the other children of the tribal village...

Happiness: We rarely feel it. I would buy it, beg it, steal it, Pay in coins of dripping blood For this one transcendent good. -Amy Lowell Gifted with wings of butter and gold, Out he came from his silky mold. Enjoying the breeze and the morning sun, Fluttering his wings , the journey had begun. No more a life than a phase of the moon, But such a sorrow in his flight is not borne. A small gust of wind does make him sway, But he does cheerfully make back his way. [photo by droid] He settled onto a bed of flowers, Embracing 'em as though lovers. He moved on from one to another, Sucking honey as a baby from the bosom of his mother. He lingered around each of them long, Dancing to a perfectly crafted song, And etching every moment in his memories, Moments forever treasured and savory. Alas! Now it is time for me to g...

കാതില്‍ വിതുംബുമാ സ്വരം, എന്‍ മനസ്സില്‍ തഴുകി തലോടവേ , കൊതിച്ചു ഞാന്‍ ഒരു നിമിഷം , മിഴികളാല്‍ അവളെ സ്പര്‍ശിക്കുവാന്‍. തെങ്ങുമാ നൊമ്പരം കണ്ണുനീര്തുളളിയായി, കവിളില്‍ നനവാര്‍ന്നു വീഴവെ , അവളുടെ ഓര്‍മകള്‍ ഒരു മഞ്ഞുതുള്ളിയായി, എന്‍ ഹൃദയത്തിന്‍ സ്പന്ദനം കവര്‍ന്നെടുത്തു. സ്നേഹം തുളുംബിയ ഹൃദയത്തിന്നിപ്പോള്‍ , വിഷാദം കലര്‍ന്ന രാഗമായി, വന്ധ്യമാം മേഘം കരയുമാ രാഗം കേട്ട്‌, ജീവിതം താനെ നിലച്ചു പോയി. താളത്തിലൊഴുകുന്ന പുഴയുടെ ഓളങ്ങള്‍, താലമെന്തെന്നറിയാതലഞ്ഞു പോയി. കാലത്തെ മാറ്റുന്ന കാറ്റിന്‍റെ അലകള്‍, എങ്ങോട്ടെനില്ലാതകന്നു പോയി. അവളുടെ ഓര്‍മകള്‍ എന്നെന്നും എന്നുള്ളില്‍, ഒരു തീക്കനലായി ശേഷിക്കവേ , അങ്ങകലെ ജ്വലിക്കും സൂര്യ ഗോളം പോല്‍ , എന്‍റെ ജീവിതം കത്തി കരിഞ്ഞു പോയി. പല ജന്മം മതിയല്ല മറക്കാനാ സ്മ്രുതികളെ, സ്നേഹത്തിന്‍ ചൂടിനാല്‍ ഒരുക്കിയ ഹൃദയങ്ങളെ; അവളുമായി വിരല്‍ കോര്‍ത്ത് നടന്നൊരാ ഓര്‍മകള്‍, നെഞ്ചിലെ തൊട്ടിലില്‍ താലോലിച്ച മോഹങ്ങള്‍, എല്ലാം ഒരു വിരല്‍ പാടുപോല്‍ എന്‍ മനസ്സില്‍ പതിഞ്ഞു. എന്നെ തനിച്ചാക്കി പോയവള്‍ അകലേയ്ക്കു, മണ്ണിനും വിണ്ണിനും അറിയാത്ത ദൂരേയ്ക്ക്, എന്നുടെ ചുറ്റും നിന്നൊരാ മുളംകാട് , കാറ...

അന്നൊരു വേനലില്‍ കാല്‍ നനച്ചൊരാ, ആമ്പല്‍ കുളത്തിനിതെന്തു പറ്റി; ഇഷ്ടിക കട്ടയും സിമെന്റും കൊണ്ടുണ്ടാക്കിയ , ചുമരുകള്‍ക്കടിയില്‍ മറഞ്ഞു പോയി . കല്ലെറിഞ്ഞുണ്ടായ ഓളങ്ങളും പിന്നെ കാല്‍മുട്ട് തഴുകുന്ന ഇലകളും അവയൊന്നും ഇല്ലിന്നു അവിടെ - ഭൂമിയുടെ ഭംഗിക്കും ഭംഗമായൊരു നാലു നില കെട്ടിടം മാത്രം . പണ്ടു പാടത്ത് പട്ടം പറപ്പിച്ചതും, കൂട്ടുകാരുമൊത്ത്‌ ചേറില്‍ കളിച്ചതും , പിന്നെ പോയി കുളത്തില്‍ നീന്തി കുളിച്ചതും , അങ്ങനെ ഒരു മോഹം ഇനിയാര്‍ക്ക് വെറുതെ. ആമ്പലിന്‍ പൂവ് അടര്‍ത്തിയെടുത്തതും, അയലത്തെ പെണ്ണിന്റെ പ്രേമം ചോദിച്ചതും , അവളുടെ ചേട്ടന്റെ തല്ല് മേടിച്ചതും , അങ്ങനൊരുപാട് ഓര്‍മകള്‍ ആ കുളം ഉള്ളില്‍ ഉണര്‍ത്തും . അമ്മയുടെ അമ്മിഞ്ഞ പാലിന്റെ മധുരം നുകരും പ്രായത്തില്‍ തന്നെ, കംപ്യൂട്ടെറിന് ചോട്ടില്‍ അടയിരിക്കും കുഞ്ഞുങ്ങലുണ്ടോ അറിയുന്നു ആ കുളത്തിന്‍ മഹത്വം ; അത് നല്കിയ ആത്മ സുഖം. ഇനിയും ഒരു വേനലില്‍ പറ്റുമോ എനിക്കത്, ആമ്പല്‍ പൂവുകള്‍ അടര്കാനും , ആ കല്പടവുകളില്‍ കിടക്കാനും , ഇല്ലിനി ഇല്ല , അങ്ങനെ ഒരു സ്വപ്നം, എന്നതാണ് ദുഃഖസത്യം . --രാഹുല് എസ്സ് നായര് Photo Coutesy: Sandeep Pillai http://sandeep.pixelring.net

എനിക്കു ഒരുപാടു ഇഷ്ടമുള്ള വരികളാണു ..... കോളെജിലെ ഓര്‍മകള്‍ വീണ്ടും... അവിടെ വച്ചു കുറിച്ച വരികള്‍... സ്വന്തമായി ഞാനെന്നും കരുതിയതെല്ലാം, എന്‍ പിന്‍ വിളികള്‍ക്കു കാതോര്‍ക്കാതങ്ങ്‌ അകന്നു പോയി. മൂകമാം ഈ സന്ധ്യയില്‍ ഞാന്‍ ഒരു ചെറുപുഷ്പ്പം പോല്‍ വാടി നില്‍ക്കെ, ദൂരെ ആ സാഗരം പാടും ഒരു ഗാനം കാറ്റായി എന്നെ സ്പര്‍ശിക്കവെ.. എന്‍ ഉള്‍കണ്ണൂ കണ്ടു ആ സത്യത്തെ.. ഒന്നും ആരുടെയും സ്വന്തമല്ല, എല്ലാം മനുഷ്യഹ്രുദയത്തിണ്റ്റെ ചാഞ്ജാട്ടം മാത്രം. എന്നു "സ്വന്തം", രാഹുല്‍ എസ്‌. നായര്‍

കഴിഞ്ഞ ദിവസം പഴയയൊരു സഞ്ജിയില്‍ കിടന്ന കിട്ടിയ ഒരു കീറ കടലാസില്‍ എഴുതിയിരുന്നതാ... തിയതി - 10-04-2006 നിറഞ്ഞു എന്‍ മിഴികലില്‍ കണ്ണുനീര്‍ തുള്ളികള്‍, ഓരോ തുള്ളിയും സ്നേഹതിന്‍ കവിതകള്‍. കവിളില്‍ നനഞ്ഞിറങ്ങിയ കുളിരാര്‍ന്ന, വരികളില്‍ ചിലതെഴുതിയ കവി , നീയാണെന്‍ സുഹ്രുത്തേ.... നിന്നുടെ വരികള്‍ എന്‍ ജീവനില്‍, തഴുകിയുണര്‍തിയാ ഗാനം, സുന്ദരമാം സുഹ്രുത്തേ.. സുന്ദരമാം സുഹ്രുത്തേ.. അതിലെ മറ്റു കുറിപ്പുകള്‍... കാറ്റില്‍ മണ്ണിന്‍ ഗന്ധമൊഴുകും നേരം, നെഞ്ജില്‍ തേങ്ങും വിടയുടെ നൊംബരം... (may be jithu and raghesh remember these lines....) പിന്നെ ഇതും..... COMSKYS RULEZ FOREVER... ;) --Rahul Nair

Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister. ~Alice Walker I wrote about her when I was 7 years old, A poem for my school magazine. Of course I didn't write it my Dad did. Maybe I should have written this long Back. Into earthly hands she was born, An angel without wings to adorn. Her radiant face and her full round eyes, And those looks like she was about to cry, Her childish giggles and her baby talks, Still in my ears do ring with unlost charms. I remember the moments when her lips curved down, With a tiny trail of shiny tears, And all this just to look her best, In her cherry dyed favourite dress. Aha! and how would I forget those pillow fights, At the end of which she would run to Mom and Whine. There went the cane on my buttocks, Those are now joyful memories which in my heart do reside. Times were there when I would cry in a corner, After Dad's treat...

The real religion of the world comes from women much more than from men - from mothers most of all, who carry the key of our souls in their bosoms. -Oliver Wendell Holmes He stood there so tall and proud, An old wind still lingering around. He was a fine mountain, Enveloped in trees , streams and fountains. He looked beyond those mountains greater To see his mother his creator . In a warm wind suddenly covered was he, She had come sensing his anxiety. [photo by foto3116 ] She caressed him in gentle strokes, Soothing the trees, streams and the rocks. She was proud of him,her son All that she in rain and sun had done. She softened the rocks and - Withered them into fine sand. From which green shoots had - Sprung up high and dyed. She would blow the dark clouds over For the beasts ,the birds and the flowers. She guarded him from the heavy snows, Lest he felt the bitter cold. Al...

"We shall find peace. We shall hear angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.” Anton Chekhov [image source unknown: contact me if the owner wants it removed] Drops of tears on her heavenly cheeks, Like dew drops on the olive leaves seep. Her eyes were murky,gloomy and dull, Those eyes so blue,so naive, so full. Why she wept, why these tears, Why so sad a lovely face? May be this madness,May be this malice, Or maybe just she wanted care. The arms embraced and held her close, The tears dried down to a blissful mood. She felt so secure in those arms, In the warmth of her mother, who loved her most. This is how an Angel cries - Through the eyes of an innocent child. Because In them do Angels dwell 'til life is under the...

-LIFE IS MORE THAN MERELY STAYING ALIVE- [Photo By jdl_deleon] In times of anger,joy and pain I have wanted to find him out; From the depths of me and gain - All those answers ,I had ever sought. I thought many a times that I saw him far, Though he appeared like a star in those velvet skies. In times of calm , i have felt him close beside, Though invisible he is to my earthly eyes. I always thought of ways to feel him near; I have thought of death and of wealth, Thought of love and of prayer. But what is it that takes me there That I need to find ,before the heavens come near. One day I believe he will hear my call, And I will merge into ,him, My Soul. --Rahul Nair