Beauty, beauty, every moment, every frame..!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJOkkUOU7UQ

A clutter..

Sometimes when it becomes difficult to forget, I concentrate on insignificant things.. what are they? maybe the curtain, maybe the cobwebs, the disarray of tins on my kitchen shelf similar to my thoughts, I try to put them in order both the tins on my shelf and the thoughts in my mind, the tins are easy, but my mind doesnt budge...My mind is a clutter now, the posts on this blog reflecting that..

Tragedy on Stage-Translation

Only darkness remained on stage,
When suddenly the electricity played truant,
and the loudspeakers emiitted silence quietly,

Half spoken by the hero, unheard by the heroine,
The lovelorn dialogues went in search of the generator,

All ready for the next tragic scene,
Now outbursts, cries and flashlights,
descended amongst the audience
to enjoy a smoke in the darkness,

On the keyboard a war waged
between the anthem that was ready
to be sung when the curtains came down,
and the dissonance that was ready
to announce the villain's arrival.

Light and sound parted from each other
pondering over their own demise,
Wondering at the same time
about their next stage, their next performance.

Reshmi

Translation of a malayalam poem "Tragedy" by T.P. Vinod

The larger picture...

Just hoping one day I start looking at things like this.. how insignificant the little things that worry our mind are after all.. like those little dots on a large canvas...

Rosary

One day sleep evaded me
As thoughts crowd my mind
Gnawing at each other,
Some connected,
some irrelevant,
Some from the past,
Others from the present
Memories galore,
Some exalt me,
Some insult me,
I sat up to gather them in a hurry
Lest I lost them forever,
And bead them into a rosary I did
Now my fingers move over them each day
From one thought to another,
From one moment to another,
My prayer, my treasure,
Relishing even the painful ones,
Nowadays I sleep in peace
Rosary in hand,
My mind in place..

That Night..

That night was coy,
The magic had begun
Beguiled by my wilderness,
You began to unfold
Unraveling mysteries,
Exploring ecstasy,
Shedding the façade
We were one when the dawn dawned
You left me by the sun,
Where I wait until today,
When the dawn dawns I ask,
Will that night come tonight?

Freedom

She packed her clothes neatly into the small black suitcase that had faded into gray. She looked back at the walls of the room that had been hers for 25 years. She felt sad, not because she would miss anything but because she knew habits die hard.

She stepped into the verandah and paused near the armchair to look at the man whom she was married to for 25 years. He looked at her through his glasses, his handsome face with the same sarcastic smile that she had got used to for so many years now. She turned and walked out, never to look back.

At 45, at last she walked into freedom, she was leaving everything that she had got used to, everything that she was bound to by duty, yes even the bed that she shared with him. Will he miss the corpse that he used to make love to?

The decision to leave came suddenly. When they returned from the airport after seeing off Arunima and her husband, she had looked at him for the first time into his eyes fearlessly and said “ I am going away”. He had asked quietly as if he knew “When?” and she said “Tomorrow.” For years now, they had got used to this monosyllable conversation.

She jerked from her reverie as the bus screeched to a halt. She got down from the bus into the drizzling night and walked through the foot marks in the wet mud. As she walked towards the light shone in the distance, slowly very slowly her mind filled with joy. The rain that was hesitating in a drizzle now poured in all fury and she shivered in happiness. Why had she hesitated for so long to choose, to break away, she wondered, and she knew the answer, “Arunima” . She felt she could walk no more, she wanted to fly to the door that awaited her.

At last she stood there and even before she knocked, the door opened and she collapsed into those arms saying “I am free, I have come back to you, At last I am free….” Thus went on her rattle about freedom through the night, and thus she slept in her mother’s arms who sat beside her listening, tears streaming down her cheeks. She made no effort to wipe them off for they were tears of joy, rejoicing her daughter’s freedom.

Reshmi

Retreat

Like counting backwards,
Like the waves retreating,
Like moving back from death to birth,
Silently childhood dawned
On her uninvited,
Her body shriveled like the mango pickled,
Crumpled like a wasted paper
But her mind erasing,
Like a slate wiped off clean,
Of memories that contained me,
I whispered, “Grandma its me”
Her eyes were blank
While she smiled carelessly,
Deluded by her own mind,
She moved away leaving me behind,
She was searching for something
Perhaps some old toy,
Perhaps some old smell,
That still lingered
In her mind that was retreating
Into the world of null and void…

To My Son

As I look down at you sleeping blissfully
With a tender smile playing on your lips

I run my fingers through your hair gently
Even as I smell my milk in every breath of yours

I know you will go away one day
To build your own nest - leaving mine.

Let me savor your touch. Let me save your love.
For the lonely day when you would be far away

Let me gather all your warmth in one embrace
And save your kiss for a lonely day

These rooms will echo your naughty voice
Your books will tell me the story they told you.

Your toys will play with me as they did with you
You will be here with me even then you would not

You and me locked in these moments forever.
You and me in me forever

Smell

The smell of burnt wick and oil,
Of the blown out lamp on a moonless night,
The smell of boiling water
That lingered in the kitchen forever
Of mango pulp drying in the sun,
Of the ripened Jackfruit
That lay abandoned in the courtyard,
The cow dung fresh and green
Wafting in the morning breeze,
The mossy tang of the wooden planks
Left unnoticed on rainy days,
The scent of talcum, soap and oil
That your bosom offered in reprieve
My memories were thus and many
Images fading into the oblivion,
Leaving behind their smell with me..

Reshmi on June 29, 2006

She Sang Again..

That frail little seedling
Shivered as I touched her,
But then swayed as if in recognition,
When I bent down to kiss those tendrils,
They warmed as if in comfort,

My mother, reduced to a handful of ashes,
Now they say has grown
Into these leaves and branches,
I seek her warmth as I press
My cheeks onto those tiny green fronds,
Did I get a whiff of the sandalwood paste
That always adorned her forehead
As I pressed my ears into the wet mud
Did I hear that sound of her chain tinkle,
That always came between my head and her bosom,
The leaflets like her fingers
Tucking my unruly hair behind the ears,
Wiping my tears away,
Did the gentle breeze hum a lullaby?
Yes, as I closed my eyes,
The sapling danced above me
And my mother sang for me once again…