Layers!

From the glass bowl of souls,
God took one string of being,
and sewed the heart pieces into one.
New life created, illuminated it with a soft glow.

The heart, energetic and awake,
felt vulnerable and exposed,
and requested God for a cover,
fearing harshness it could not take.

So He created a maze,
for the heart to hide in,
leaving only an eye-window open,
allowing it, at times, to gaze.

The eye-piece watery and bright,
from showing love,hate, anger and pain
requested God for two shoulders
to share some of its plight.

So He created shoulders broad,
for the eyes to rest once in a while.
It helped display pride and strength,
and in times of need, to gently prod.

The shoulders, despite their might
were tired of the task bestowed on them,
and requested God for two hands,
to share some of their plight.

So He created hands two,
to hug and comfort a friend.
With polite and friendly shakes,
they shared the shoulders' load too.

The hands, weary of the shakes
with every soul-maze they met,
requested God for a thick skin,
to reduce the connections they made.

He finally created a thick skin,
with a sharp tongue to go along with it,
sealing his delicate maze in this secure cage,
leaving no trace of the soul to be seen.

The multi-layered man faced the world,
confident and brisk,
while the soul lost in its maze,
tries to get its voice heard.

The process of discovering new and unexpected layers in a person motivates me to keep finding out more about them. Just when I think I have figured someone out completely, Bham! They surprise me with something new.

Layers in short, is the way I perceive my friends and acquaintances.

Jaago Re!

I have had my share of "Election-ke-time-agar-aap-vote-nahi-kar-rahe-hain-to-aap-so-rahe-hain" moments. ( If you didn't get that, you need to watch the Jaago Re advertisements by Tata tea.) Of all of them, there is one memory which for me, is the funniest.
After going to Mysore for Infosys training in 2005 September, 5 of us decided to go to the famous Brindavan Gardens one weekend. The first sight of the garden was a shock - Surely it wasn't this dirty a couple of years back! There were papers, plastic covers, and other debris everywhere! Unkempt grass, dirty water, and loud people were already making it a regrettable trip when-
A 25-30 year old lady, seemingly nonchalantly, dropped an empty aquafina bottle. You may think that she threw it in a dustbin, or maybe even, at a place where there were lot of aquafina bottles. But nay, she dropped it right in the middle of a grass-less, but fountain-ed place in the garden!
To say that I was more than ready to show her the very sharp edge of my tongue would be an understatement. So, I controlled myself, ran up to her, picked up the bottle, and said, with my 32-teeth-obvious-artificial-smile, "Excuse me, you dropped the bottle." and thrust the offensive piece of plastic back into her hand.
Ah, the joy of seeing pure shock and later, embarrassment on someone's face! **Sigh**

The sound, and sight of music

There are different sounds people like, like Bryan Adams, birds chirping, violin or even a baby's full-hearted laugh. This post is about one sound which mesmerises me - the sound of a water fall.
I have been to 5-6 waterfalls in my life, but visits to two, being treks, were unforgettable. Imagine walking through flora, fauna, stones,insects etc just for the sight of a famed waterfall and wondering how long you can maintain your balance (and dignity) climbing slippery rocks. To suddenly hear the rush and sheer power of water falling is pure music for ones' ears!! I don't know how to describe it, but I can still feel the rush I had at that precise moment when I knew for sure that that's what I was hearing. Finally, what can beat the climax of the moment, the source of the music, the first glimpse of the fall?!
By the way, the two falls I have been talking about are Abbey Falls, and one near Talakona falls. Adjectives like "Wow", "Amazing", "Spellbound" fall short of describing them, so attaching a couple of pictures!

The one near Talakona Falls

Abbey Falls

My God must be crazy!

Thats because, He devised an ingenious way of keeping me ramrod straight on my chair while working. My God uses an invisible straw which rests on the table edge with the other tip ending at my forehead, forming the hypotenuse of a right angle triangle.
But the unthinkable happened today morning. I leaned too much over the straw, and it broke. I immediately folded my hands, had a sip of coffee, and prayed,"Please keep me upright. I have work to do". He listened and reluctantly replaced the straw.
After two hours and breaking nine more, I ask The Lord again, " Please Sir, I have a call at 12.30. Once more, and I will never ask for anything from you today."
He looks at me with disgust, " My dear, that was the last straw"
I stare at him, shocked, and against my own will, my forehead drops on the table.

Sitting on a large stone..

I am not a very big fan of Paulo Coelho, but there is one story of his that I like a lot. More than the lesson imparted at the end of it, I liked the way of the impartation. It goes something like:

The teacher placed a large glass jar on the table.
Then out of a bag he took ten stones, each the size of an orange, and began placing them, one by one, in the jar.
When the jar was filled to the brim with stones, he asked his students:
‘Is it full?’ They all agreed that it was. The teacher, however, took some gravel from another bag and by jiggling the large stones around inside the jar, managed to fit in quite a lot of gravel.
‘Is it full now?’ The students said, yes, this time it was definitely full. At that point, the teacher opened a third bag, this time full of fine sand, and he began to pour it into the jar. The sand filled up any empty spaces between the large stones and the gravel, right up to the top.
‘Right,’ said the teacher. ‘Now the jar is full. What do you think I’ve been trying to demonstrate to you?’
‘That it doesn’t matter how busy you are, there’s always room to fit in something else,’ said one student.
‘Not at all. What this little demonstration shows us is that we have to put the large stones in first because, afterwards, they won’t fit. Now what are the important things in our lives? What are the plans we postpone, the adventures we never have, the loves we fail to fight for? Ask which are the large, solid stones that keep God’s flame alive in you and put them into your jar of decisions now, because very soon there will be no room for them.’

I usually recollect this story during my daily and almost always, eventful morning bus journeys to office. The overflowing bus, precariously leaning towards the sensitive entry-exit side, provides a good bird eyes’ view of the peak morning traffic.
Then I notice how the big buses, vans, cars etc resemble big stones in a glass jar-type road. Just when I think that the road can’t possibly be any more packed, I hear honking, followed by yellow gravel-type autos, with adventurous drivers twisting and turning to occupy the empty spaces between these bigger stones. This has to be it – I think. Ding! Wrong again – in comes a horde of shiny-black-helmet sand-type bikers, riding full-speed; tilting their bike at amazing angles, getting in between the big stones and the gravel.
The early morning portrait is now full of green buses, silver cars, yellow autos and black bikers. Above the rapidly developing pollution cloud, protected from the searing morning heat, sitting in a hard-earned place and disdainfully watching the filling up of free spaces in the road, I feel like a queen of a vehicle-jungle. As I grin happily at the thought, the grandma next to me gives me a sympathetic look and decides to look the other way.
The little pleasures in life! **Sigh**

An Ode .. to Ash

The irritation of being unable to sleep at 3:00 AM in the morning, knowing you have to get up in another 4-5 hours is nullified by only one thing - when you have company in this predicament.

Why is sleeplessness now a bliss?
Is it because it is as much mine as it is his?

Why do my eyes lose their hazy look at three?
Is it the knowledge that I have company?

Why I do I feel so lucky Suddenly?
Is it the fact that with you I never feel lonely?

Why do I smile while I type this prose?
Is it the certaintly that my life now is blissfully yours?

An answering rant!

I recently read this blog (The girl mentioned in this blog is not me!) about the controversial topic of the patriotism of Indian people settling in U.S.

I dont know if i speak for the rest of the Indians settled ( and planning to settle) in India. But I want to add my piece on a topic which gets me totally riled up.

We don't mind Indians settled in U.S, studying there, working there, marrying there, starting their Gujarati/Andhra/Tamil commity, or even building their own version of a desi temple. No we don't mind that. In fact, by popular opinion, Videshi-Deshi junta are more outspoken about their patriotism than us.

But I do mind few things:
1. The comments about the Indian traffic, Indian taxi, Indian Auto (god forbid , the favorite topic for all videshi deshis), the level of Indian Noise - I don't mind the rants, I do mind the Indian sub attached to all topics, as if the speaker himself/herself was not an Indian (or once was).

2. Mails from just-going-to-study-MS-will-miss-you-all friends after landing: 'It feels as if I have come home de. This is where I belong.'

3. A recent comment by one of my relatives - ' Bed-Bugs? There are none in U.S! It is people from developing nations who bring it here. Must be the Indian students!'

4. Another gem of a comment from my recently returned-from-Pittsburgh neighbor thatha - 'ange perummal alangaram evalo pramadama nadakkum teriyuma?! Inge irrukkura koil llam unnum ille... evalo dirty!' and the add-on of course ' You should go there definitely for a darshan!'

I mean really, what does Vilayat do to some people anyway?! Note that I am not condemning everyone. My sister and jiju are in U.S hoping desperately that their daughter does not have much of an American accent. My Mama and Mami and Sai, though settled in U.S for more than ten years, are still very much rooted to India. My close friend Dasa has still stayed grounded.It is the smaller percentage of people that we despise.
Frankly, patriotic or un-, loving U.S or not, unless you are in India and get to listen to these nuggets of wisdom about our country from wanting-to-be-Non-Indian Indian, you won't get it.

You just won't get it!

PS: None of the above four points have been made up.

Taala-Kattai

The moment I step up on the podium,
the world starts swimming before me,
I stop, trembling, straining to hear,
the sound of Taala-Kattai that could save me.

Thath Thai Tham
Dith Thai Tham
Thath Thai Tham
Dhith Dhith Thai

Learning these steps a year back,
right-cross-jump! - I would tell myself slowly.
As I became the sound and the sound me,
I prepared for my first performance on Vijayadashmi.

Thath Thai Tham
Suddenly I hear what I was waiting for!
Dhith Thai Tham
and my feet move with steps forgotten;
Thath Thai Tham
fingers changing swiftly with tune.
Dhith Dhith Thai

With Pain in body and pleasure in soul,
I dance and I dance and I dance and I dance.

Makkal were very surprised when I told them. "Dance?", "But honey, aren't you,like, um, too old for that?"
I mean really, how does it matter? Does walking like a duck, being clumsy, physically weak make one non-danceable material?! (Ok, It does, but who cares?!)
Now, one and a half years later, came the next set of questions. "Salangai-poojai - as in stage performance?!" "But honey, aren't you,like, um, too amateurish for that?"
Ah, well, to all ye skeptical people, this time I agree with you! I am very much an amateur, but it is something I am looking forward to, as it serves in dispelling lots of my own doubts about myself.

My poor Hubby!

A mental break after a long long time! Though I am technically working, i love the non-AC and 'livable' conditions of my home PC, compared to office, where i end up catching cold or headache or stares!

Now my good luck makes me pity some less-fortunate mortals on! So, here is a poem for the long-sufferers, especially my hubby-to-be. May Gods and his bosses be kind to him at least today!

:) Oh i love irritating him:

My smile becomes broader,
can lazy day be any more sweeter?
then i worry about my poor hubby,
who works in the land of mordor.

i am in pure bliss,
can life be better than this?
then i worry about my poor hubby,
will he today find peace?

hippity-bippity bop,
around my room i hop,
then i worry about my poor hubby,
will his drudgery ever stop?

The Pink Tree

Grazing my cattle far from home,
I suddenly snap out of my reverie,
My hands shake and i drop my stick,
looking ahead at the lone pink tree.

I am not shocked by the color,
or that it is the only tree for miles,
A candy floss wrapped in yellowed grass,
it was a sight for sore eyes.

I am not shocked by its height,
or that it grew in so dry a ground.
a leafy lollypop in yellow hands,
nods with the wind making a moaning sound.

I am shocked by its presence,
where last summer, my son was buried,
a flamboyant tombstone marking a buoyant soul,
growing out of an innocent heart-seed.

Stronger and Calmer, I walk up to the tree,
Cheek on trunk, I sing his favorite song,
leafy arms engulf me,
and i hear him sing along.

Not an original post - on charolis and rubaiyats!

4-liners or short poems are a personal favorites with me. I recently got to know of charoli ( 4-line poems in marathi) and Rubaiyats ( 4-line or short poems by Ommar Khayyam. There are some beautiful verses all over the net. "Copy-Pasting" a few here:

Charoli by Chandrashekhar Gokhale:

Marathi

Aata me hi tharavlay

Agdi shahanyasarkh vaagayach

Kunaala kahi dile tar

Tyachya badlyaat kahi maagayach

English

Now I've also decided

To act like a clever person

If I've given something to someone

Then better ask for something in return!

Hindi

Ab maine bhi soch liya hai

Ekdum hoshiyaari se bartaav karna

Kisi ko kuch diya hai to

Uske badle mai kuch zaroor maangna!

------------------------------------------------------------------

Marathi

Gacch lavoon ghetlele daar

Baher lavlel 'Welcome' ch toran

He kasl daar bandh thevun

Swagat karnyach dhoran

English

The door is firmly locked

A 'Welcome' garland is put outside

What is this, keeping the door closed

And 'Welcoming' custom?

Hindi

Darwaaza kas kar band kiya hua

Bahar laga hua 'Welcome' ka Guldasta

Yeh kaisa darwaza bandh karke

Swagat karne ka tarika?

Rubaiyat by Ommar Khayyam:

Life is nothing

but a dull game with two

sure rewards: sorrow and death.

Is this a game

worth playing?

------------------------------------------------------------------

I feel young today.

Wine, wine! Its fire fills me.

Any wine will do - I am not choosy.

For even the best wine is as bitter

as life itself.

------------------------------------------------------------------

How sad, a heart that

does not know how to love, that

does not know what it is to be drunk with love.

If you are not in love, how can you enjoy

the blinding light of the sun,

the soft light of the moon?

English kills the beauty of the original - but thats the only language I understand! :)

Early Morning Blues

Mind numb, shoulders shrivel, my hold on mouse slackens,
Oh no no, wake up! My inner self chides and coffee beckons,
Eye lids droop almost as soon as I empty my coffee mug,
And my head meets the table welcoming me with a cool hug!

Nag!

Have you ever had a nag? Like, a reeeeeeeeeally persisting shadow of a memory at the back of your mind? Something that you desperately hope to find out?
I have lived with one such can-i-be-more-forgetful feeeling for the past 7-8 years. When I was 13-14 years old, I had a chance to read a wonderful book salvaged from a platform book-place in Gujarat. The tattered, stained, crumbling old novel(Don't remember its name or that of the author) was a very simple, first-hand account of a mother(don't remember her name) with few(don't know how many) kids and various incidents in their life (don't remember what). I cried copiously throughtout the read, and gave it back to the shop. And now that fragment of memory is killing me. I am still searching for it in google, wondering If i have passed it by! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Poems and I

One fine day I woke up and discovered that I have a flair for writing, and then started this lovely journey in the world of poetry!
And nothing could be further from truth! Not very observant by nature, and not a great admirer of beauty, poetry usually flows over my head like a gentle undisturbing breeze. But then the miracle happened.
The miracle of Nora Roberts.
She is amazing. Her witty plots, humor, romantic descriptions and the occasional strong doses of magic has made me one of her biggest fans.
But how did she inspire me to write poems?! The answer would be found in her 'The three sisters island" trilogy. I made my sister read it and as expected, she fell in love with the plot. So following the story line, I made her Mia Devlin ( as my sis is Aries - Fire sign) and myself Ripley ( I am Gemini - Air Sign) - and wrote a four line spell - similar to how it is in the book.
It was juvenile, but fun! That tickled off my urge to write rhyming verses and finally to poems.
I am attaching some random initial impromptu verses here, which by no means are great woks of art, but are remembered fondly for the purpose they served.

Available!

(Written on seeing Nitin online after a very long time in Y! messenger - one of my earliest ones)

Hey-lo!

My dear dear fellow,

seeing your icon yellow,

turns my heart mellow!

For not calling...
(When i couldn't call up Ashwin after saying I would due to a sudden, unexpected and unwanted work.. this was written when I was in my previous job )

I owe you a big apology,
But have been involved in a minor tragedy,

For I have been given work I barely understand,
Wonder how much more of this I can withstand,

I will call you later,
When I am more saner,

I will go now have some coffee,
Once again, I really am very sorry!

Gyan!
(This was written to bala, who was then studying in final year(tucha are people studying in final year in his college lingo) and was not in the best of moods. Since I wasn't either, i wrote this. God! How unhappy was I then?!!

Ye enjoyer of tuchadom,
Enjoy your last year of freedom,

After this you will enter the read bad world,
Where small things will boil your blood,

I am in the same predicament now,
Got to escape this, but how?!

As the people around us are bad,
Which almost always end up making us sad!

But I hope u have a better luck,
At facing others, in which I obviously suck.

..

(Unnamed.. written a few days back for Ashwin when he told me he is going to continue with his new piece, 'The General')

honey sweety becomes naughty at times,
likes to write, but appreciates rhymes,
wants to be rushdie, but does not ape his style,
he's sure to leave mediocrity back by a long mile!

:) All Smiles remembering old times!

Busy is the buzz word!

Consider the following conversations:

Me : Hi How are you doing?
Mrs. X : Good. Busy.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Miss Y : Hey Evglere(name changed!!), how are you doing?
Me : I am doing good thank you. How are you doing?
Miss. Y : Busy.. as usual!
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Start of conversation
Me : Hello Mr.Z! How are you doing?
Mr. Z : Busy Busy.
-------------------------------------------------------------------

Sigh! How difficult would it be when busy is all you are, even for answering a perfectly professional question from a perfectly professional peer? Especially when you are talking to the perfectly professional peer for the very first time?
Now I really thought that even If you are busy, when a typical "how are you?" question is asked, typical answers include "I am doing great!" or "have been better!". Guess typical passed me by long time ago!
Time to become atypical now i guess.

I have to go now.. busy day ahead! Bye!

Gadgety-Widgets!

I discovered Widgets, albeit a tad late! My favorite addition is the Bookshelf (Thanks Nitin!). It feels wonderful to have one online, and see some of my treasured books racked up neatly for display!

AFTERMATH

Dirt covered window, with a small palm print,
allowing sun rays to enter weaving dirt ways,
touseled grey sheets with brown stains,
some glisten red reflecting light,
naked body lying, heaving now and then,
curled into a ball, a girl of ten.
bruised and battered, red turning purple,
big scared eyes, salty tears healing wounds.
a heart-broken sigh, she gets up,
covering her wounds, to go to school,
leaving her room, the smell of wine,
and her drunken father behind.

This poem was written after reading "Our little secret", a story on child sexual abuse.

Shopping-Ship

Male bonding typically happens in smoking room over talks of women, football/cricket and beer. I guess we ALL know where female bonding happens: Shopping.

And I dread that word. Don't mistake me. I didn't say I hate shopping. No girl survives in India, especially Chennai, with less than 7 dresses and a couple of earrings. Considering I have double ear piercings, and have some more lined up, I am totally IN with the More is Cool trend here. But I quickly run out of patience, and prefer buying the first few things I see, however expensive and mediocre they are.

So you think that is a good thing? Think again. When 60% of a girl-girl conversation is related to the biggest shopping haunts in Chennai, and crooning over the latest trends and must-haves, I find my knowledge or contribution to such topics negligible. When someone Oohs and Aahs, 'Where did you buy that dress/earrings/bag/shoe from?!', I embarrassingly forget that important detail at that crucial moment which would make or break the bond.

To put it in a nutshell, I am making excuses for my dwindling number of female friends! There are few i treasure: Mom (Yes!!), Aarthi, Suba and Aruna. The rest come, try their hands at being patient with me, and give up!

I intend writing the next few blogs on these girls who have made my life!

PS: I have just listed the people who have been been with me, like forever. There are others with whom I have lost a mental touch due to distances and differences.

The Big Bang Theory!

Recently, I had an argument with one of my friends on the credibility of Big Bang Theory. One mass - Big Explosion - Bham Bham - Objects – Galaxies – Stars - Forces! A typical one-to-many example. Is it just a fragment of a man’s creative imagination?
Personal opinion: A colorful believable picture. The kind of theories that made science text books interesting, and star-gazing imaginative. But right now, applying it to a different facet of life, I find it explaining lot more than how the universe was formed.
Taking a typical scenario, consider the first day in office, where a group of people have joined together. They are from different backgrounds and have different mentalities, but are bound together by a common need to survive.
Fast forward it to 3 months from then. Groups - friends – enemies – crushes - lovers. Smiles and greetings are as scarce as the get-togethers of the first few exciting days.
The solid mass splits, leaving in its wake, few galaxies and few stray objects in the universe. They are moving away, slowly, but surely. But as they say, what will be, will be.

4Ws and 1H

Saturday morning - I jump up on my bed,
too much work- that is all I have in my head,
Now in front of comp, my mind wanders,
how did I survive 2 months? I wonder.

'You have been put in Logistics'
Anil tell me happily
'Um, that is good, I know' I fumble
'Can you explain what it is though?'

'Research and find out what is hot'
Anil breaks the news,
'Oh I'll do it for sure' I say,
'But who is this report meant for?'

'Do a powerpoint, Arial font and shades of blue'
Anil tries to coax,
'Did I hear you right?' I ask,
'But really, why can't it be more bright??'

'Cover everything and be done by Monday'
Anil says smoothly,
'Can you please repeat what you said?' I ask,
'It is the when part that I dread!'

'Forecast, Primaries, Analysis',
Anil gives me a list,
'Oh I get it I get it' I fume,
'But you will tell me how, I presume.'

What, Who, Why, When and How,
questions that govern my life now,
I should be frustrated and angry but I am not,
As I happen to like my job a lot!

Mosaic

MOSAIC
(Dedicated to Ash)

I have been trying for hours,
but am unable to recollect his face.
I dream of him every moment, but wonder,
How I always see him as a mosaic of colors

‘Can we be friends?’,
Asked the white Man,
So innocent and so pure,
‘Of course Yes!,’ I said,
and life took a better turn thence

‘I think I have a crush on you’,
Said the pink Man,
Blushing and Mischievous,
‘Ha! That will pass’, I said,
But, oh dear; did I feel the same way too?

‘I want to marry you’,
Said the green Man,
Smiling and down on one knee,
‘Oh Yes Yes Yes!’, I screamed,
There was nothing more I wanted too!

‘I have to leave’,
Said the grey man,
Mature and responsible,
‘Of course, go ahead’, I said,
with nothing more than a kiss to give.

‘I miss you so’,
Said the orange man,
Romantic and dreamy,
‘I do too’, I say,
He will be back soon, I know.

A mosaic of colors, he,
Opened up a whole new world to see,
More than making me love him,
Has made me love me.

The tale of a horse

This poem was written recently just to bug Ash:

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!,
The hooves make the sound,
As he runs through the greens,
covering more and more ground.

With a coat of brilliant white,
and lustrous mane flying high,
he is a graceful figure for his height!
minions of the jungle turn to watch,
as he, like a breeze, passes by.

He has reached Vikhroli,
Drenched in sweat, from Mallad,
Facing banana bombs, Chepauk and me,
He now whinnies a ballad:
“Oh! I need a break and sleep”,
he whinnies all day long.

God Almighty, unable to bear the song,
Lets him sleep whenever he wants
So now he spends the first third of the day on hay,
Sleep in bus in the second third
And trot slowly in the last leg of the day

So now, Ashwin sleeps and sleeps,
breaking only for food and piss.
But, unknown to him, The God has other plans.
Tomorrow, he needs to run again,from Vikhroli to Netherlands.

The journey will be long and hard,
lots of pitfalls, people and training,
But no no, it won’t be bad,
As he would meet his old relatives & friends
And imagine the experience he is gaining!

Ya! I know! Its funny and dumb! But i loved writing it! Since there are some parts which most of you won't understand, here is a small spoiler:

Mallad : Location of Ex-TCS office
Vikhroli: Where CapGemini, his new office is
Banana Bombs: The production house of his movie
Chepauk: Where the chennai cricket ground is, and we went there to see an amazing match between CSK & RR

Observations

Poem thought of while going to office in the morning bus:

Standing in the middle of the road in the scalding heat,
I have lost track of time and the changes around me,
Watching the world moving to a wild beat,
I marvel at the different shades of man I get to see.

Take this young man walking by the road,
With his wife silently tagging along,
Carrying two bags, too much of a load,
While the man looking at a pretty broad,
Nods, winks and bursts into a lewd song!
The wife watching this hangs her head in shame,
Maybe thinking that she has only herself to blame.

Suddenly, a whistle disrupts my reverie,
Followed by a screech of wheels and a hail,
Turning around I am not surprised to see,
The traffic constable making his first sale;
Sale of his honor for not stopping an offender,
Calmly pocketing the money, he waves him along.
How does he live with himself? I wonder,
As this is what I have seen him do, all day long!

Jus then, something divine reaches my ear,
Oh it’s a bird singing a beautiful song,
She lands on me, without a fear,
Noting my appreciation, decides to go on!
"Oh what a pretty bird!" Cries a young girl looking,
Her beau, looking dreamily at her, nods,
She moves closer to him, still smiling,
And his hand creeps around her waist, after a pause.
Oh ignore me, for god's sakes,
I am only a man, about twice your age!

Lost in my observations, i just see,
That the sun has set, giving me a golden glow,
The bikers slow down looking up at me,
Magnificent in bronze, with feelings I can't show.

Whim!

A sudden whimsical one written to make Ashwin come back to Chennai!

Deep deep in a forest,
Where everyone roamed and flew free,
there was a small, but busy mumbatree,

on which lived a sweet birdie,
loved by many, wearing a lungi,
spent its spare time flying by the sea!

With its high voltage energy,
famous how could he not be?!
heartthrob of some,
loathed by many,
he is usually too busy to pee!

but now he is confused,
as he has got a call from madratree,
from ma and pa birdie,
long longgggg tailed karthi,
and of course.. me!!!!

Madratree is not Mumbatree,
but birdie will still be happy,
as there are many here who love him,
and he can still fly by the sea!

Sizzles!

There is nothing more exciting or inspiring than being in loved and be loved by a person you respect and trust the most! So.. i got inspired!! And wrote another poem! Be warned though: whatever comes out of an inspiration need not be good!

Fires burned high, rain fell strong,

Wind blew mighty, Earth trembled long,

A powerful man, seeing the power around,

Decides to capture it, and keep it bound,

Takes the fire high stirs it with rain strong,

Adds in air mighty, and drops in earth with a song.

He gets power in a vessel, but sees something amiss,

And so adds in a drop of love with sizzle and fiss!

Out of the vessel come a man and woman,

Powerful, and made in love, mere humans,

The woman of wind and Earth, The man of fire and rain,

In mortal world, known as affi and antbrain!

24 years later, they fulfill the powerful man’s wish,

They meet, they love, they sizzle and fiss!