ain't I entitled

Ain't I entitled, 

While the moon, shines brightly at night, 

always given only part few days to shine thy 100%

Ain't entitled!! For wanting to be seen ever moment!!

While the flowers, metamorphse through millions of seconds, 

to just bloom a few hours and wither away, 

Ain't I feel entitled!!! For wanted to be fresh all the time!!

While the tree bears so many fruitlings, 

the wind, the birds, the sun steals away only see few riped matured fruits!!

Ain't I feel entitled!!! to claim success at every turn!!

Life is Life, there ain't no success neither failure, there ain't no famous or infamous!!!

There ain't no happy or pathos!!!

There is just the construct of your mind, playing the futile game of leaving you stumbling...

Offcourse you are human, 

Just be one of the million petals that still is unique and beautiful even when it flies away.. 

Just be one of the million pebbles rustled by the stream of water and footstep finding beauty in being resilient.

There is no shame in being ethereal, there is so much strength in being still and letting go!!

I ain't asking you to be stomped... but don't be stomped for because you are entitled to success and ambition, take a subtle turn to just live with the flow of situation around you. 

It’s that love

It’s that love

It’s that kind of love...

Where the broken slithers...

And the hurting heart...

Tells u how deep ur love runs...

It’s that kind of love

Where every pain... hurt...and despite

Truly turns you to oneness.....

It’s that kind of love...

Where despite the beautiful roses...

I just want to turn to your thorny spines..

And bleed to love you...

It’s no love just embracing.. 

It’s the disappointment....

It’s the despites...

It’s the animalistic... 

The raw attraction and imprisonment to u...

Not your body or mind or heart... 

just you damn it...

The indescribable part of u...engulfs me... burns me...

Leaving me with the eternal scar of loving you.. 

We ain't dainty, but deities

We ain't dainty
We ain't fainting....

When u hit us with a million things....

When u expect us to be
Resilient but obedient
to shine but with within
to protect but not protest
to be cooking without sweating
hair neatly plaid, house warmly made...

We ain't dainty
We ain't fainting....

Mrs. Lakshmi most wanted..
Mrs. Saraswathi most respected..
Madame Kali so feared and most worshiped...

Tridevi

We have to be all of them
At the right place and time...
But Kali never too obvious...

It's the story of the Indian wife
it ain't sad
it's just bloody oppressive
But
Knock knock...
the oppression isn't too obvious
we never felt oppressed
Just trained from child birth
its easy peezy

So now we can mangalagarama send mangalyan to mars

Women scientist of team mangalyan on the
cover of nature 

Heads up
The oppression isn't working anymore
You have just made us stronger than the man of steel

We ain't dainty but deities.

The female divination

I am high on estrogen
Hip size nein zero
Trieste pas beacoup
உணர்வுகள்  high fever

Sex ain’t perversion
Sacred is my biology
Without which there is no human race



Don’t gawk at me
Don’t awe at me
It’s just the female divine

I don’t have to race
Don’t have to run
I am already the pinnacle of evolution

Never the less I was present

Time passes 

Youth passes

Ambitions passes 

Tears pass

so does the innocent laughters

Love passes 

Faith passes 

despair passes

emptinesss passes

but now filled with alien emotions not familiar

excitement passes

Frustation passes

Defeat passes

anger passes

So does the will power to destroy everything on your path

ego passes

self passes

selflessness passes

helplessness passes

so does the impulse to react to agony

left behind is me, with memories of everything that passed by... 

will let everything passby in a recurrent loop again... 

And one day I will pass away

the earth will pass away

and more will pass away 

Never the less I was present... to pass away.. 

WINK

For his first love three feet and  nine inches high
His white pants and shirt, blue belt and tie, black shoes and socks
Were muddling along with his roars of tantrums….
Gifted was he for a fair mother and lover…
Oh! but our hero was so far from fair…
He was Calvin

Winning the award of tantrums….
Dragging his accomplice Hobbes….
Defeating the seven mounds of sands…..
And three inched sticks of white haired toddlers…
He retreated behind – his banyan tree….

Looking at the brooch,
Savoring his victory,
Wrapped it in a stolen golden paper
Wrote    “To my love Susie’s………..”
Hobbes asked “Susie’s what??”
He WINKED AND SAID “SUSIE’S MOM”.
AND THAT’S HOW CALVIN NEVER MARRIED :p 

Knots

Knots

Besides the window
On the creaking old bed
Crouched and curled beneath the crumpled blanket,
With a worn golden ring,
a torn tainted foto ,
a glass of water,
There hid the most beautiful woman, I ever knew…

Silence was her speech,
Tears were her window,
I walked towards her,
gazed  for a moment or so,
Turned, wiped my tears….
Lifted and gave her wrinkled hand, the fingers of my just born only son – her great grandson..

Serendipity – She smiled
And
For the first time in twenty years she spoke,
Yes, With a word not uttered, She spoke…
“With a thousand woolen knots that embraced my son,
Knitted with love and last of her strength.”
And That’s My GreatGrandmother.

My little sister

I don't remember the swollen belly of mommy
I don't even remember your face...
or how u looked like when u were a baby...
or anything about the hospital you were born in...
but why is this day so damn unforgettable...
Its like I didn't exist before this day...

I remember distinctly racing on the scooter because u were born..
I remember they told me not to touch you...
but you were mine...
So I was angry..
I would sneak in to cradle you... touch you...

Aaah... I remember now what I remember...
It felt like magic...
It was the first time i felt true joy in the long 3 years I had lived.....
Voila! It was the first memory I made....



How many every alzheimer's I would pass through...
or how many ever alternate realites I would jump through...
I can't forget touching you my sweet little sister.
I can't forget how this little soul fused with mine forever.

Why don't you to come to my Neverland.

At the brink of the sea...
I sat there pulling the sun away from sinking into the red sea...
painting the sky blue so that its just the right hue...
getting the waves flow up and down the shore gently...
and waiting for you to get into the window of my neverland....

I see, you don't see the window...
you see a clown pulling the sun,
painting clumsy little white clouds..that is just going to drench herself...
you see my ragged clothes..
and bulged up eyes that haven't slept for a century now..
a century, waiting for you.
You see everything but the window...

You were just right next to me....
watching the whole world...
you watched the kitten pooping next door..
you saw my laundry piling up on the floor...
you saw the postbox vomiting unread mails...
the world wars and the golden stocks&shares...
You see everything but the window...

But I remember once when you were drunk,
I silently kidnapped you like peter pan into my neverland..
we saw mermaids and bell towers with princesses,
we saw a peacock with rainbow feathers...
we soared high and never landed back..
We were like the phoenix shedding every day's past
and always being born for the future....
But I see that you were drunk...

I am scared... that now I can't go into neverland alone...
not without ur breath on my shoulder
or that magical smile of yours that enticed me into this blissful boon...
without you I will just rip the colors of my neverland...
Without you I will be no phoenix,
I will just have a past and never look for a future...
Without you my neverland is crumbling...
Without your sweet little touch on my bare skin,
I am afraid I can never open the window of my NEVERLAND....

Please, Why don't you come to my never land...

in the vintage frame.

Through the golden vintage frame..
I see the beautiful drapes...
the window...
my coffee cup in white fragile ceramic with the silver lining.....

candle lit after dark...
laughter filling in for music...
tears held through hugs...
and overemotional friend who would do anything for me...

day dreaming a valid past time..
faraway places seen through the words of nomads...
everything looked precious...
the ink, the paper,the blonde and blue eyes...
paintings made by hand....
empathy ruling your head...
I want to live in this antique dream...
and be Human...

white soul in the black forest...

A gentle breeze of shattered glass,

a deep swim in the dark river, 

with open eyes...

and a dripping soul... 

I see a spine bent human, 

holding to the black thunder....

...........

with a smile and a tear

Engulfed in the music of white noise... 

blinded  in a vaccum of white light.. 

with clutched fingers

and screams inside my head...

I see a dangling body of slender woman

moving to the music of my screams... 

.......

 with no face nor eyes....

cold breeze splitting my skin...

warm blood oozing in my wounds... 

Hands frozen

Soul broken, 

crawling

through the dead leaves... 

I heard a humming.... No singing... 

"ta rumpum ta rumpum,

turn around

turn around

ta rumpum ta rumpum

run along 

run along

ta rumpum ta rumpum"

and a whisper 

chilling my spine

" I am the black forest"

My own sweet tinker bell...

For the first time I witnessed,
A sparkling snowy breeze giggling past my snack on one fine evening,
so soft and so bright....
Oh! wasn't it the the summer though? yes, yes it was....
Well! I am talking about my dear lovely Han...

Whose golden hair blazed through my pain and tore it into shreds..
A perfect nest that I could cuddle into...


Her oceanic green eyes just spiraled down all my mischief...
and gave something in return, that would just make me fly like peter pan..
Oh! her lovely finger that clutched to mine...
made me swell with pride...
shouldn't I be? oh well ain't I the one who has an angel for a friend...
every time I feel down I just have to think of my own tinker bell..
and Tada... I feel all well....

oh my lovely tinker bell... My lovely Han.. Love u loads...

enaku veetuku ponum

On the isle of foreign soil,

drunk, dry and confused by mirages and snowfall, 

nothing smells of home, 

neither the chicken nor the curry nothing smells like home. 

On the miniscule of a second, 

pushed and pulled by a million memories, 

I don't know where to start,

neither the incense nor the silence fill my empty nights. 

On the virtual reality of skype
felt and unfelt
I am longing for am embrace
that smell's like my mother's jasmine.

On the flight back home,
cuddled and jetlagged,
I only wish to stay back,
and stop saying "Hey its been a year, how are you?"
and start saying "How was the movie yesterday?"

Let the flower feel the breeze

Like a flower that cannot feel the breeze,
her heart was filled in a vaccum.
It couldn't feel any more the turbulent flow of life,
She stopped and looked,
Everything was a painting that she couldn't understand,
Everything had an aroma that she didn't desire,
Life was perfect for her, So would everyone say,
What would they know?
They just look at the mirror and reflect what they think,
have they gotten in it to know its made of grains of sharp glasses,
If they did and break it,
the vaccum would float away,
and
hey,
I see the flower feel the breeze.

Note: depression is a disease, yes if fellow people have no compassion. you can be a cure too.

Heart filled with no words

I can't find words in me anymore
words are replaced by this rather formless beasts.
I think that they are infact beautiful angels,
I am not sure, let me explain...

They are these beautiful angels
giving me light,
They take me into this beautiful forest with scent that's so intense ,
that it seems surreal, But I know its real.
I know the warmth is real,
I know the light that hits the nerves of my soul is real.
that my heart filled with this beautiful angel is real....

But then something happens...
My heart stops pumping blood into my head,
but I know its beating faster,
And then there is this dam that's about to burst open at the brink of my eyelids,
diminishing light that has so far been swallowing the dark in the forest.
It feels real but i know its surreal,
or I want it to be surreal.