9:30AM. Turned on computer at work and put on earphones.
Awake.
Shake dreams from your hair
My pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
The day’s divinity
First thing you see.
A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by it’s quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us…
The doors opened… I was transcended.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Sudd-Suddenly #1
(Sudd-suddenly: Recording random thoughts)
NRI family at Thanjavur temple during their annual India visit.
Kid: Appa! Look… F1 elephant!
Dad: What?!
Kid: Look there… that elephant has a chequered flag painted on its forehead. Can we go for a ride…please, please?! I’m so bored. Let’s experience some G-forces!
Dad: Strange… wonder what that is. Is the Indian Govt already into promoting the 2010 Delhi GP? May be he’s the mascot, called…hmm… Thezu?
Mom: I think it’s a new marketing strategy by Mr. Mallaya for his Force India team.
Paati: Abhachaaram…abhachaaram! Is that wine-shop fellow now trying to penetrate our sacred temples and ruin their sanctity? Oh krishna paramaathma, protect us.
Thaatha: Calm down. That’s just the effect of criss-crossing of horizontal lines painted by one group and vertical lines by another.
NRI family at Thanjavur temple during their annual India visit.
Kid: Appa! Look… F1 elephant!
Dad: What?!
Kid: Look there… that elephant has a chequered flag painted on its forehead. Can we go for a ride…please, please?! I’m so bored. Let’s experience some G-forces!
Dad: Strange… wonder what that is. Is the Indian Govt already into promoting the 2010 Delhi GP? May be he’s the mascot, called…hmm… Thezu?
Mom: I think it’s a new marketing strategy by Mr. Mallaya for his Force India team.
Paati: Abhachaaram…abhachaaram! Is that wine-shop fellow now trying to penetrate our sacred temples and ruin their sanctity? Oh krishna paramaathma, protect us.
Thaatha: Calm down. That’s just the effect of criss-crossing of horizontal lines painted by one group and vertical lines by another.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Red she now stands tainted in
Red she now stands tainted in.
Brutally scathed by two groups,
She appears ragged,
Smeared all over with red stains,
Stains of dirty red,
Stains of ugly red.
Group 1 -
Armed with heavy artillery,
bombs and sophisticated guns,
And fuelled by a brain-washed mind,
Shooting almost at ranges point blank,
They left her belly wounded and bleeding,
A horrific red,
An inhumane red.
Group 2 -
They shot, too.
Wielding weapons of a varied kind,
Driven by a brain-washed-off-all-sensitivities mind.
Earlier, a quick-fire conference had been summoned,
“the prime motive, I want us all to comprehend,
is that in the issue’s vigorous and relentless coverage
our ‘Terrorism Roko Pracharan’ we will aim to boost and leverage.
Cash-in Now News-brigade, Infiltrate Bombay’s Nerves.
Times Now Right-here, to present the never-before-seen
Nauseating-levels of Dramatized Terror Viewing.
infuse fear in the mind of the common man... to the TV sets, may he be stuck.
to step out, scared stiff should he be, like he has never been Aaj Tak.
and do remember the rule of the day… only flash news and breaking Headlines Today.
happy hunting!!!” they hi-five’d and dispersed.
Operating well beyond the point of cerebral-space-gone-blank.
sucking in anything seen around,
it, they cut, chopped, grated and ground,
chewed, chewed and chewed
and then on her, spat and spewed,
leaving her doused in red scum,
A cheap red.
A filthy red.
And then the great Indian circus trick,
Performed by a bunch of powerful political pricks.
One party cries foul over the other being ‘soft on terror’,
The accused scramble for a scapegoat to sacrifice,
in a desperate effort to cover up a costly error.
The spotlight falls on one… ageing but not ill,
The man known by many as ‘the one who’s always dressed to kill’.
“we know its difficult for you wise guy,
but looks like its become impossible for them to stand your banter
and this time they are all over us you see.. left, right and centre.”
“This doesn’t suit you well anymore” they go on to say,
“But if you aren’t sent home now… we just don’t stand a chance to stay”.
Yes… we have all shamelessly grown thick-skinned,
Sick of continuously getting ripped and skinned.
For we all know… those with power,
Blame games they will continue to play,
Bloody lame games that they always play.
Bright and vibrant colours,
well known for these has she always been,
But with colours having become filthy, fake and deceptive,
The need has now risen for her to come clean.
Let us all go colourless for a while,
no saffron… no green… no white…
And bring to a halt the grinding wheel of supremacy fight.
Brutally scathed by two groups,
She appears ragged,
Smeared all over with red stains,
Stains of dirty red,
Stains of ugly red.
Group 1 -
Armed with heavy artillery,
bombs and sophisticated guns,
And fuelled by a brain-washed mind,
Shooting almost at ranges point blank,
They left her belly wounded and bleeding,
A horrific red,
An inhumane red.
Group 2 -
They shot, too.
Wielding weapons of a varied kind,
Driven by a brain-washed-off-all-sensitivities mind.
Earlier, a quick-fire conference had been summoned,
“the prime motive, I want us all to comprehend,
is that in the issue’s vigorous and relentless coverage
our ‘Terrorism Roko Pracharan’ we will aim to boost and leverage.
Cash-in Now News-brigade, Infiltrate Bombay’s Nerves.
Times Now Right-here, to present the never-before-seen
Nauseating-levels of Dramatized Terror Viewing.
infuse fear in the mind of the common man... to the TV sets, may he be stuck.
to step out, scared stiff should he be, like he has never been Aaj Tak.
and do remember the rule of the day… only flash news and breaking Headlines Today.
happy hunting!!!” they hi-five’d and dispersed.
Operating well beyond the point of cerebral-space-gone-blank.
sucking in anything seen around,
it, they cut, chopped, grated and ground,
chewed, chewed and chewed
and then on her, spat and spewed,
leaving her doused in red scum,
A cheap red.
A filthy red.
And then the great Indian circus trick,
Performed by a bunch of powerful political pricks.
One party cries foul over the other being ‘soft on terror’,
The accused scramble for a scapegoat to sacrifice,
in a desperate effort to cover up a costly error.
The spotlight falls on one… ageing but not ill,
The man known by many as ‘the one who’s always dressed to kill’.
“we know its difficult for you wise guy,
but looks like its become impossible for them to stand your banter
and this time they are all over us you see.. left, right and centre.”
“This doesn’t suit you well anymore” they go on to say,
“But if you aren’t sent home now… we just don’t stand a chance to stay”.
Yes… we have all shamelessly grown thick-skinned,
Sick of continuously getting ripped and skinned.
For we all know… those with power,
Blame games they will continue to play,
Bloody lame games that they always play.
Bright and vibrant colours,
well known for these has she always been,
But with colours having become filthy, fake and deceptive,
The need has now risen for her to come clean.
Let us all go colourless for a while,
no saffron… no green… no white…
And bring to a halt the grinding wheel of supremacy fight.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
An SMS epitaph
My new mobile had a fall,
simple and clean,
landing flat on its screen.
Streaks of bright yellow and green,
are all that is left to be seen.
beep, beep,
weep, weep...
Rest in peace.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Desire
The eyes met.
A few moments passed, gazes still glued.
Within, emotions swelled... joy and desire, guilt and fear,
an intoxicating concoction of pleasure,
high on which, did the eyes dilate and shimmer.
The lips, they remained still... a shy stillness.
Then...
like the tiny glow, from behind a veil, of a lass' eyes,
born was a ray of light, her lips when they gently moved,
and there, tenderly sprouted, a little smile.
(This is a translation of ‘Eerpu’ posted earlier)
Thursday, October 16, 2008
A spore of fire
Well… I’m back to what I do the best… brood.
Not that I haven’t been doing this at all. Actually I do keep brooding most of the time, at every opportunity my mind feels a bit untied and temporarily disconnected from everything happening around. But, using a technical term (and since I have also been attempting some ‘subject-surface-scratching’ - trying to understand some very basics of the subject matter I have been handling for more than 2 years now) this can be called ‘implicit brooding’! Here you brood, but only within. Yes, I acknowledge that brooding is by itself an ‘internal phenomenon’, pretty much concealed from the external appearance. But the implicit variety is like going another shell or another layer inside. Call it ‘inner-internal-phenomenon’ if that makes things simpler or sounds acceptable. You are so bogged down by activities/tasks/things/duties that you are left with very little time to devote to anything else. And so you brood in gaps/intervals/breaks/pauses, only for a few moments before you are rewound and catapulted back to reality.
And then there is the other, the grand, independent, carefree, unperturbed sort – ‘explicit brooding’! The state of mind where the foremost slot of application of the mind is allocated to brooding, second to none. It drives the machine and everything else rides pillion. Lets call it ‘outer-internal-phenomenon’ to stay inline with the other variety’s description.
If you consider yourself a seasoned brooder, you will at once recognize this to be an activity which aids in attaining supreme mental satisfaction. To me, this is the satisfaction arising from a session of analyzing and streamlining emotions. Happiness, sorrow, confusion, complacency, inspiration…everything appears to distill down to a solitary feeling of anger, which in turn fuels a craving for creativity, fuels a drive to do only things I want to do and not need to do and fuels the urge to attempt that big-leap, from what appears like the bottom of the pit currently.
Agni kunjodru kanden,
Adhei angoru kaattilo pondhidie veithen,
Vendhu thanindhadhu kaadu,
Thazhal veeraththil kunjendrum moopendrum undo?
A spore of fire did I sight,
It, in the dense of a forest did I hide,
Burn down to ashes, did the forest.
In their blistering rage, can one say a spore of fire from a blaze?
Labels:
brood,
poetry,
Subramanya Bharathi,
tamil poetry
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Eerppu
Vizhigal saendhana,
sila vinaadigal inaindhu ondraga nindrana,
ullangal irendilum perugi ezhundha aanandhatthil
kangal virindhana... jolitthana.
Udhadugalo… vetkathil asayamal nindrana.
Piragu,
mugavalaikkupin maraindhirindhu
siru oliyaai thondrum oru azhagiyin kangalaipol,
aval udhudugal sattre vilagiyadhu,
oliyin oru bimbam angu uyir kondadhu,
siru punnagai ondru angu mottu vittadhu.
Friday, April 13, 2007
A '?' day
Today was a ‘question mark’ day.
One of those days where you keep questioning yourself as to why you are doing whatever you are doing.
Questions keep shooting out of your mind like bullets from a machine gun.
And the most difficult part is that you have to face these bullets alone, no army, no team. Try dodging them and you’ll see that they boomerang right back at you. There’s no escape, no refuge, the questions seem to work on the same principle as that of guided missiles.
Why did you join this company?
Why did you take up engineering?
Why are you working on such an outdated technology?
Why can’t you be technically strong in whatever junk you are doing?
Why are you still sticking on to this field even after you know its bad?
Why are you only mediocre in whatever you do?
Why cannot you make a firm decision on what you want to be?
When will you learn, gain knowledge and be a true champ at everything you do?
How difficult is the other stream you are trying to enter?
Will you survive if you take a plunge or will you drown?
Why can’t you dedicate even 1 hour everyday to improve yourself?
Why is this code looking endless?
Why is the logic appearing so undecipherable?
Why is the cafeteria playing music which is so loud and lousy?
Why isn’t anyone complaining against the bad quality of the food?
Why is it that everybody seems to be happy with the rip off prices?
Why is this cocky rotund clown my manager?
Why is he questioning me on my performance when he does not seem to know, in any sense, the word’s very meaning?
What qualities did they see in him to make him the manager?
Why are all the clocks appearing to run so slow?
Why can’t they function in the way you want them to?
At the end of the day you find yourself swimming against a high tide of questions. You are trying to reach the other side. But then you realize there isn’t a destination at all. Swim or sink. Its your call.
One of those days where you keep questioning yourself as to why you are doing whatever you are doing.
Questions keep shooting out of your mind like bullets from a machine gun.
And the most difficult part is that you have to face these bullets alone, no army, no team. Try dodging them and you’ll see that they boomerang right back at you. There’s no escape, no refuge, the questions seem to work on the same principle as that of guided missiles.
Why did you join this company?
Why did you take up engineering?
Why are you working on such an outdated technology?
Why can’t you be technically strong in whatever junk you are doing?
Why are you still sticking on to this field even after you know its bad?
Why are you only mediocre in whatever you do?
Why cannot you make a firm decision on what you want to be?
When will you learn, gain knowledge and be a true champ at everything you do?
How difficult is the other stream you are trying to enter?
Will you survive if you take a plunge or will you drown?
Why can’t you dedicate even 1 hour everyday to improve yourself?
Why is this code looking endless?
Why is the logic appearing so undecipherable?
Why is the cafeteria playing music which is so loud and lousy?
Why isn’t anyone complaining against the bad quality of the food?
Why is it that everybody seems to be happy with the rip off prices?
Why is this cocky rotund clown my manager?
Why is he questioning me on my performance when he does not seem to know, in any sense, the word’s very meaning?
What qualities did they see in him to make him the manager?
Why are all the clocks appearing to run so slow?
Why can’t they function in the way you want them to?
At the end of the day you find yourself swimming against a high tide of questions. You are trying to reach the other side. But then you realize there isn’t a destination at all. Swim or sink. Its your call.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
The Clockfools
He pulls the blanket
past his eyes, and over his head.
he recalls the nights
when he slept cozily, curled up in his bed.
he seeks that silence,
he searches for that stillness,
he closes his eyes,
those blood-shot in the battle against sleeplessness.
Into a deep slumber, his mind he tries to thrust,
futile, he twitches and turns,
unable to overcome its state of unrest.
desperate, he sings himself a silent lullaby,
as louder grows the day's bustle,
he hears a school kid shouting "mummy...bye bye".
He is just one of them,
among the many thousands,
the ever growing group of the clockfools.
those who live by the clocks of far off lands,
their own, ticking, not clockwise,
but in what seemed, a clock-fool way.
fooling the sun and the moon,
fooling their own days and nights,
they fool themselves
of the hours dark and bright.
As he lies, still in the quest,
he sees sleep coming, still a little distant,
he thinks about his life, the way
his career seems to have begun, hitting rock bottom.
he hears his father waking up the gods,
busily chanting the venkatesa suprabaatham.
past his eyes, and over his head.
he recalls the nights
when he slept cozily, curled up in his bed.
he seeks that silence,
he searches for that stillness,
he closes his eyes,
those blood-shot in the battle against sleeplessness.
Into a deep slumber, his mind he tries to thrust,
futile, he twitches and turns,
unable to overcome its state of unrest.
desperate, he sings himself a silent lullaby,
as louder grows the day's bustle,
he hears a school kid shouting "mummy...bye bye".
He is just one of them,
among the many thousands,
the ever growing group of the clockfools.
those who live by the clocks of far off lands,
their own, ticking, not clockwise,
but in what seemed, a clock-fool way.
fooling the sun and the moon,
fooling their own days and nights,
they fool themselves
of the hours dark and bright.
As he lies, still in the quest,
he sees sleep coming, still a little distant,
he thinks about his life, the way
his career seems to have begun, hitting rock bottom.
he hears his father waking up the gods,
busily chanting the venkatesa suprabaatham.
Friday, December 29, 2006
When it thawed
He stood up and walked slowly and aimlessly, heading towards the edge of the hill.
Although he had sat there with the others, he stared straight, gaze fixed on the bottle of water, submerged in thoughts, isolating himself mentally. No comments, no jokes, he spent the time in silence while the others relaxed, had fun and eased away their weariness. The climb had been exhausting and everyone was trying to get back as much energy possible by consuming some snacks and fluids. He just took a few biscuits and a little juice, still mute in musing.
Several images crossed his mind... flickering, looping, growing dark and bright repeatedly like the fuse of a bulb moments prior to burning out.
He felt miserable at the control he lacked over his life. The independent, unstoppable way, in which it kept moving on, he felt stuck light years behind.
He hated every bit of his present state... his job, the 'software engineer' tag attached every time somebody referred to him, the talks about him 'settling down in life' which occurred almost every time relatives or friends spoke to/about him, codes and bugs, deadlines and commitments... it all made him feel sick, angry, guilty, helpless and lost.
The heat of the afternoon sun burned the skin on his cheeks as he stood, inches away from the edge, with an almost face-to-face glare at the sun.
the clouds, they appeared to him as if they were inviting him to float along, void of any responsibilities or constraints, nowhere in particular to go, no one in particular to meet, unstained and unstrained freedom.
"Just another step and you would be there" he said to himself.
"Would I really be missing anything if I were to proceed? Anything worthwhile for me if I restrain myself?"
As he continued contemplating, still looking intently at the silky white cloud, he heard someone approaching him. Not willing to be disturbed, he decided not to take notice.
"Hey mister software engineer... what are you doing here? Remote terminal bug
fixing eh?" said Anirudh, jovially, still a few steps away from sandeep.
He felt annoyed at this intrusion. He stayed inert, without responding, trying to neglect anirudh's presence.
Noticing this behaviour, anirudh decided not to probe too much. He walked up
to the edge, stood next to him and looked in the direction of the same cloud.
The next few minutes continued in silence, with both the men just staring at the sky.
Allowing the mind waves to settle down, giving it some time, anirudh said in a low, serious tone, sounding the least interrogative
"You seem to be looking for something".
sandeep felt he wasn’t being pulled into any silly talking and replied
"Hmmm... yes... searching for the thing i lost long ago... this thing called life"
"And what do you see up there?"
"Happiness... freedom... peace of mind... what not?"
"And how would you get all that?"
"Just another step pal... one small step" stressing on each of the words.
"Hmmm... damn simple right? Ok... go ahead... and then what would happen?...You'll be dead?" said anirudh in a bold, non-compassionate manner.
"Dead?... I won’t die ani... there is'nt any life left in me to die" said sandeep
trying to put across the statement as if it was a simple logical one.
While the conversation went on, neither of them looked at the other, still focusing on the same cloud.
"Ok... move forward slightly and look down" said anirudh, shifting gaze and looking directly into sandeep's face.
sandeep felt slightly puzzled at the pitiless way anirudh was talking, and could sense a small measure of fear rise inside. He just bent forward, firmly gripping his feet on the ground and looked down the drop. The wind was strong and it played silent songs into his ears. He stared at the bottomless depth. The openness and the emptiness that he saw made the fear inside him to grow. Just a few seconds and then he stood upright, looking at the sky. anirudh remained unmoved and silent. He could sense many things going through sandeep's mind. After a brief pause he said "so... what did you see?"
"Nothing... everything was blank" sandeep replied in a slightly scared and
weak voice.
"Hmm...you dint see a thing?"
No response.
"Ok... I’ll tell you what you saw." looking directly into his eyes "you saw life... its only when you stare into the face of death that you realize life."
sandeep dint say a word. His silence spoke it all.
anirudh tossed the bike key towards him and sandeep hurriedly caught it as if a
glass vase was thrown at him.
"Come" said anirudh turning towards away from the edge.
"Where?"
"Lets hit the road" anirudh walked away from him leaving him back in isolation.
sandeep looked at the cloud again, turned around and saw anirudh walking. The
rest of the group remained as it was, relaxing and having fun, unaware of the whole episode. He walked up to them and picked up a bottle of water and returned back to the edge. He let the water run down his face and watched it as it went down the drop, disappearing into the emptiness. He felt the cool of the wind blowing across his wet face.
He walked back to the guys, threw the empty bottle at one of them and said "ok guys... i guess thats enough of rest... get up.... lets go....
lets hit the road"
PS: This story nucleated from one of Anto's statements(antoniyms...as we know).
he one day said, when he was talking about the people at his workplace, "maam.... even if the floor above falls on them, they wont die maam... there's no life only...how will they die"
And this post is an ode to one of the few activities that injects a good dose of life into our lives... biking. Every single bike trip (and the small treks too) have been stand-out experieces in the otherwise monotonous life.
Although he had sat there with the others, he stared straight, gaze fixed on the bottle of water, submerged in thoughts, isolating himself mentally. No comments, no jokes, he spent the time in silence while the others relaxed, had fun and eased away their weariness. The climb had been exhausting and everyone was trying to get back as much energy possible by consuming some snacks and fluids. He just took a few biscuits and a little juice, still mute in musing.
Several images crossed his mind... flickering, looping, growing dark and bright repeatedly like the fuse of a bulb moments prior to burning out.
He felt miserable at the control he lacked over his life. The independent, unstoppable way, in which it kept moving on, he felt stuck light years behind.
He hated every bit of his present state... his job, the 'software engineer' tag attached every time somebody referred to him, the talks about him 'settling down in life' which occurred almost every time relatives or friends spoke to/about him, codes and bugs, deadlines and commitments... it all made him feel sick, angry, guilty, helpless and lost.
The heat of the afternoon sun burned the skin on his cheeks as he stood, inches away from the edge, with an almost face-to-face glare at the sun.
the clouds, they appeared to him as if they were inviting him to float along, void of any responsibilities or constraints, nowhere in particular to go, no one in particular to meet, unstained and unstrained freedom.
"Just another step and you would be there" he said to himself.
"Would I really be missing anything if I were to proceed? Anything worthwhile for me if I restrain myself?"
As he continued contemplating, still looking intently at the silky white cloud, he heard someone approaching him. Not willing to be disturbed, he decided not to take notice.
"Hey mister software engineer... what are you doing here? Remote terminal bug
fixing eh?" said Anirudh, jovially, still a few steps away from sandeep.
He felt annoyed at this intrusion. He stayed inert, without responding, trying to neglect anirudh's presence.
Noticing this behaviour, anirudh decided not to probe too much. He walked up
to the edge, stood next to him and looked in the direction of the same cloud.
The next few minutes continued in silence, with both the men just staring at the sky.
Allowing the mind waves to settle down, giving it some time, anirudh said in a low, serious tone, sounding the least interrogative
"You seem to be looking for something".
sandeep felt he wasn’t being pulled into any silly talking and replied
"Hmmm... yes... searching for the thing i lost long ago... this thing called life"
"And what do you see up there?"
"Happiness... freedom... peace of mind... what not?"
"And how would you get all that?"
"Just another step pal... one small step" stressing on each of the words.
"Hmmm... damn simple right? Ok... go ahead... and then what would happen?...You'll be dead?" said anirudh in a bold, non-compassionate manner.
"Dead?... I won’t die ani... there is'nt any life left in me to die" said sandeep
trying to put across the statement as if it was a simple logical one.
While the conversation went on, neither of them looked at the other, still focusing on the same cloud.
"Ok... move forward slightly and look down" said anirudh, shifting gaze and looking directly into sandeep's face.
sandeep felt slightly puzzled at the pitiless way anirudh was talking, and could sense a small measure of fear rise inside. He just bent forward, firmly gripping his feet on the ground and looked down the drop. The wind was strong and it played silent songs into his ears. He stared at the bottomless depth. The openness and the emptiness that he saw made the fear inside him to grow. Just a few seconds and then he stood upright, looking at the sky. anirudh remained unmoved and silent. He could sense many things going through sandeep's mind. After a brief pause he said "so... what did you see?"
"Nothing... everything was blank" sandeep replied in a slightly scared and
weak voice.
"Hmm...you dint see a thing?"
No response.
"Ok... I’ll tell you what you saw." looking directly into his eyes "you saw life... its only when you stare into the face of death that you realize life."
sandeep dint say a word. His silence spoke it all.
anirudh tossed the bike key towards him and sandeep hurriedly caught it as if a
glass vase was thrown at him.
"Come" said anirudh turning towards away from the edge.
"Where?"
"Lets hit the road" anirudh walked away from him leaving him back in isolation.
sandeep looked at the cloud again, turned around and saw anirudh walking. The
rest of the group remained as it was, relaxing and having fun, unaware of the whole episode. He walked up to them and picked up a bottle of water and returned back to the edge. He let the water run down his face and watched it as it went down the drop, disappearing into the emptiness. He felt the cool of the wind blowing across his wet face.
He walked back to the guys, threw the empty bottle at one of them and said "ok guys... i guess thats enough of rest... get up.... lets go....
lets hit the road"
PS: This story nucleated from one of Anto's statements(antoniyms...as we know).
he one day said, when he was talking about the people at his workplace, "maam.... even if the floor above falls on them, they wont die maam... there's no life only...how will they die"
And this post is an ode to one of the few activities that injects a good dose of life into our lives... biking. Every single bike trip (and the small treks too) have been stand-out experieces in the otherwise monotonous life.
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