Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts

Friday, November 26, 2021

Surviving with TINA

Surviving with TINA isn’t easy

Before you run your fanciful imagination amok

TINA isn’t the abusive – schizophrenic partner or the spouse

it is just the abbreviation of There is No Alternative

Living without any control or even a choice

Yet being advised to be grateful

That you’re able to Inhale/Exhale spontaneously

 when people are scampering around for ventilators for the brain dead.

Sunday, May 03, 2020

यूँही चार-छे लइने

न बची थी कोई ज़िंदगी संवारने की लालसा।

या किसी आवाज़ की खनक को सुनकर झूमने की आरज़ू।

पर जबसे तुम आए हो पास।

ज़िंदगी संवरि सी लगती हैं।

और दिल झूमता है जब तुम्हारी खनक पड़ती है कानो में।

जैसे की किसी का पहला प्यार लौट आया हो।

Thursday, April 30, 2020

Some Lines Just Remain Inside You

Some lines just remain inside you

As your own secret

Once scribbled on the paper

But doodled away so no one else can decipher.

Or typed once

Then wiped out by the cruel Back Space on your keyboard.

Never to be typed again.

Some lines just remain inside you

They don't sprout any poem.

Or become part of a story that you write.

Some lines just remain inside you

As a throbbing pain sometimes

Or just as a niggle at others.

Some lines just remain inside you

As someone you spotted on the road once

But didn't stop to enquire about because you were in a hurry to reach somewhere.

Still, the image wakes you up with a start in the night even after years.

Saturday, April 11, 2020

A Normal Day

Watching the sunrise from somewhere behind the concrete jungle.

Nothing to look ahead for or nothing to regret about yesterday's goof ups.

No proposals to be made about the upcoming projects or reports to be submitted about the completed ones.

No anxiety of facing the one man firing squad called the Boss.

No kids heckling you with their weekend plans, the list of movies to watch, new places to eat out in or birthday parties to attend.

A Normal Day has become a numb day.

Saturday, January 05, 2019

An Urgent Shot of Insulin


I lay by the wayside in a drunken stupor

I can feel people passing by

As if oblivious of my existence

Or scrubbing their noses in disgust

Wish a stray dog just sniffs me

And lets the world know

That I’m not actually drunk

But in need of an urgent shot of insulin

Friday, November 23, 2018

Threshold of Endurance


Strip me off my dignity – daily

Until I put my hands up to surrender and say I Quit

But, I’m powerless even to call it quits

So, what I do is stretch my threshold of endurance a little further - daily

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

A Tightrope Walk

Water that sustains you
Can drown you to death.
People who claim to love you the most
Can even kill you in a moment of rage.
Life as they say is a tightrope walk
So, if you lose your equilibrium in a moment of exhilaration
Can only spell your doom.

Friday, July 13, 2018

A Drifter

Life seems to be changing its pattern very frequently.
And, I change my passions, obsessions, habits and even friends accordingly.
Without really missing the old ones as if they belong to an another era.
Thus giving undue profundity to the sham 'Living in the Moment'.
And,  being A Drifter in the real sense.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Dignity in Death

There would be a Dignity in Death

That life would never have,

Silent, serene, calm as a grandpa's clock

That is unwound for ages

But, never loses its poise, composure or stature.

Friday, May 26, 2017

Stray Dogs



In hindsight every life threatening situation has something funny about it or it just leaves you with a smirk on your face because you survived it and it gives massage to your ego.

Well, I’d such an experience a few weeks back. People familiar with me maybe dying of boredom reading about or listening to my adventures on the battery operated wheelchair. So, this is basically for the uninitiated or the people who may have missed this story altogether.

It was a Sunday afternoon and on the whim I felt like catching up the latest release in the theatre nearby. Oddly, I was feeling super confident that today being a holiday I’ll reach the theatre without any hassle as the traffic on the road would be minimal and I’d cross the roads without any assistance.

My intuition was proven right as there wasn’t a soul on the road. So, I continued my jaunt till reaching the main junction - no traffic. Still, I looked left, then right, then left again (as they used to teach in school from a chapter about Road Safety) before crossing the road.

Having crossed the road, I was jubilant in my head and even imagined punching the air. The going was smooth till now. I was aware of the big auto rickshaw parked ahead and cautious that I should not bang it. Suddenly I heard a humming sound, it took me a few seconds to realise that it was actually a growl. My eyes started searching for the source of that, and there he was, under the auto, looking at me. My wheelchair automatically became dead slow, undecided whether to go ahead or to stop. In fact, there was a bunch of them taking their afternoon nap. Meanwhile, the growling had become barking and it was waking up others. The barking one had come out by now and taken his position on my left and others were following him and taking their positions as if they were going to have a pre-match huddle like cricketers around me.

I nearly started crying looking at the jaw of the leader of the pack barking ferociously, I’d see the sharpness of his teeth and wondered where he’d reach if he decided to pounce on me, shoulder, neck, face and even my head. Suddenly, the dialogue from Life of Pi “Animals don't think like we do! People who forget that get themselves killed. When you look into an animal's eyes, you are seeing your own emotions reflected back at you, and nothing else.” flashed through and I realised that crying won’t help, turned my chair to the right and ran for my life.

Yet I’d feel that a few of them were chasing me, barking at the top of their lungs and an old drunkard (who couldn’t even keep his Lungi in place) standing on the sidelines and telling me pedikalle mone, unnum chayilla (don’t be scared son, they won’t harm you).

Thankfully, a couple of bikes appeared (as if they were assigned to save my life) from nowhere honking and making noise, which made my chasers disperse in various directions and forget everything about me.
I stopped when I was safe distance away from the dogs. My thighs were shivering due to spasm and anxiety, which is risky as my balance on the chair is maintained by the stability of my legs on the footrest. If I lose that I may slip out of the seat very soon and then manoeuvring the chair would be impossible. So, my first thought was to take U turn and return home. But, facing those dogs again within minutes didn’t feel good and I’d already covered three-fourth of way to the theatre and it’d be such a waste of effort to return home without watching the movie.

***
I’d narrated this incident orally to my friend Velu, who was very encouraging in saying that my narration was so good that it kept haunting him for a couple of nights. So, I’ve burnt the proverbial midnight oil for a few nights to write it down for the wider world.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

The Pain

Let the pain drown you to the depths

Depriving you of any oxygen

And let you be there in peace forever

Because bouncing back and going through cycle

Again and again is not much fun

Is it?

Monday, December 21, 2015

An Actor

You laugh on a semi-funny joke

As if it is the most hilarious you've heard in your life.

You hear to the complicated love story of a friend

And offer him constructive suggestions and fresh perspective.

Without letting anyone know how tormented your being is

Or how sunken your heart feels.

Either you're a great actor

Or you're hiding the symptoms


Of bi-polar disorder.

Saturday, December 12, 2015

तेरी याद

रंज नही

गुस्सा नही

बस एक दर्द जो रोने से भी हल्का ना हो

और जो ख्वाइश जगाए एक और ज़िन्दगी जीने की

तेरे साथ

Saturday, September 12, 2015

The Bridges of West Kochi

I’d first heard about The Bridges of Madison County from Barry Norman who used to review movies for BBC TV. Those days I’d just begun self-education about Hollywood films so I hardly knew who Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep were, but, I remembered the title as I felt it was important by the way Barry spoke about it and time and again mentioned the lead players (though I don’t remember what his opinion of this film was). Robert James Waller novel (from which the film is adapted) is one of the first e-books I read after getting a PC at home in early 2000s and saw the movie after learning to use the torrents and downloading films.

The film has stayed with me ever since. But, the real significance of it came to the fore when I got a camera and started thinking of projects to do with the new gadget. That was the time I started thinking about the bridges on this side of the town (obviously not the oft clicked and filmed Thoppumpady bridge). I talked about the project with my dad, auto wallah and cabbie friends, but it didn’t materialise and they all seemed to say unison “these places have filth flowing under them and the stench will be unbearable.”

Yet my dream of being like Robert Kincaid (the nomadic National Geographic photographer played by Eastwood in the film) did not go away. At last I told about the project to my ‘ever ready to help’ friend Raju, he too warned me about the stench factor, still he was game for the adventure. It was decided that we will cover the Kalvathy area in the first leg. “And, no need for an auto, we’ll reach there in 15-20 minutes walking and you can start clicking pictures on the way itself”, Raju’s wise words.

The fun part happened when we thought we’d covered 90% of the distance, we realised that we were heading towards Cherlai Kadavu instead of Kalvathy. “I’ve seen a bridge ahead and thought it was the same,” Raju said.

“I meant the one near the State Bank.”

“I think that is the other end and I don’t think that we can reach there walking.”

This in a way proved to blessing for us as we discovered an unexplored and virgin part of the town and it proved to be exotic in every sense of the term with bridges to be found at every few steps and life lulling around on a lazy Sunday afternoon.



A petty shop as we approach the bridge

From the centre

This is where the friends bond
Those friends put me on the footpath
A mansion across the bridge
They aren't amused
A place to worship across the bridge
Ranjith etta bless me
The sight on my Right side
What would the world be without The Mother?
And, of course Raju - My Friend. A 1000 Danks.

Wannabe Robert Kincaid telling bye until he visits another Bridge.

Tuesday, September 08, 2015

Vanishing Vocations

This is Mahesh doing something that is rarely seen these days. What is surprising is that I found him very close to my home and that too on a Sunday. I don't remember noticing him before and he said that he has been there for the last 18 years. And, when I asked him why he was working on a holiday he answered with a counter question to my friend Raju "Do you take him out like this regularly or is this a special occasion?" then realised very soon that it wasn't a good question to ask and sheepishly replied "I've promised to deliver this chair soon so I'm working today."




I feel I was lucky as  a child to see this equipment operated, kids loved the sound this machine made and used to love seeing the sparks fly when it worked. So, everything worth sharpening was brought out when the call Kathi murcha aakaan undo? was heard. This fellow refused to pause when I called chetta from behind gestured him to stop. So, no frontal pose. :(


Monday, September 07, 2015

I don’t know why I wrote this

Existing in a vacuum

devoid of love

wrenching the heart

desire at least a touch

that can sooth the soul.

Don’t know why or how I wrote this. I feared that such things have stopped coming to me. So, when the first line struck me in the early hours a couple of days back, I tried to keep it in focus until rest of the lines came up. Without thinking about mistakes, rhyming and such things I typed it directly in FB with forward slash between the lines and posted it. I even copy pasted it in twitter (surprisingly it is much less than 144 characters).


Hope it is all was worthwhile.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Colgate's about turn or is it turnaround?

I came across this Colgate Charcoal toothpaste ad yesterday or the day before… As I am an ads freak numerous thoughts crossed my mind in the 30 seconds while this ad was going on…


A new variant to fool people.

Next butt of joke like 'Kya aapke toothpaste mein namak hai?'

I remembered a couple of people who used to brush their teeth with a black tooth powder or real charcoal. Maybe they have launched this to capture that traditional market.

Charcoal face scrubs that the likes of Kohli, John Abraham and Saif Ali Khan sell.

But in the back of my mind something kept nagging, these are not the things, there is another connection. And, the creative visualisation of charcoal powder stayed with me.

Then Colgate tooth powder came in: charcoal is rough and can harm your teeth. So, switch to the white and smooth Colgate tooth powder with the Ring of Confidence.

I couldn't locate the video of that ad… But could find the transcript of the Ad from here.

Colgate Tooth Powder: Two versions of the tooth powder ad.

Version one: muscular country bumpkin is out in the yard, with his weights, in front of a couple of buffalo.

Bumpkin: Arrey Bhabhi, zara mera doodh-badaam aur koyla dena to! 


Bhabhi: Arrey wah, devarji, badan ke doodh-badaam, aur daaton ke liye koyla?! [Scene change, shows graphic of gums and teeth up close]

Voice-over: Khurdare padaarth daaton ki parakh kharaab kar sakte hain.... [Use Colgate Tooth Powder, blah blah blah]
 
This Ad was telecast nearly 25-30 years back on DD and Colgate may have forgotten about it or have they suddenly woken up to the quality of charcoal?

Saturday, March 21, 2015

A Strange Place Other Than Earlobes

No, no... This isn’t a post about my fetish for earlobes (one of the softest and smoothest part of the body). In fact it is the title of anthology of corporeal poems by five contemporary poets that includes my good friend Binu Karunakaran. The book was formally launched on the 19th of this month at a function in the Kochi-Muziris Biennale 2014.

Here are a few pictures that I could click of the function:

Leena Manimekalai - the Chief Guest, a few moments spent together before the function
Dr. Sreelatha - one of the five poets featured in the book, giving a brief introduction of the book
Riyas Komu - initiating the proceedings
It takes mammoth effort to unravel a book
Ra Sh & Binu seem to be wondering if they will get a chance to speak
Meditating Riyas
Star of the Biennale & a fan
His moment did come
A sign of Arrival - Amol Palekar asking you to sign his copy of your book
You don't get Amol Palekar seated next to you everyday. So, just freeze the moment


Sunday, March 01, 2015

Broken Lives

It does sound like the title of a typical South Asian novel where a kid or kids growing up in poor or middle class surroundings and their family migrates to the West to improve their living conditions. But, this is not my story or to put it more clearly the story I intend to write, I wish to write a story about the people who drift away, disappear or just vanish from your life leaving you to languish in the pain of separation.

Ah! This is turning out to be some kind of meta fiction where the author or the storyteller is a part of the story yet it is not an autobiographical tale. I even posted what I thought would be the first line of the story on my FB wall to an encouraging response of likes, comments and shares. But, as it happens with me every time the vague plot did not take a solid mould.

I feel that you need a totally vacant, painfully vacant mind for a story to take root and I don’t believe in the theory that you go on typing and the story would automatically happen.


PS: I tried to write this to see if the blur picture in my head getting any clearer and, more importantly I did not want this title to evaporate into oblivion from my head. 

Monday, February 02, 2015

A clichéd love story

A clichéd love story

Throbbing in my head

Though they didn't walk into the sunset

Hand in hand

And, carried the pain in their hearts

Throughout their lives

Need a writer with calibre

To make it sound

Unique and fresh.