When a Yes becomes yes truly!

She knew the answer
In that single moment.
What her dreams are,
What form it would take,
Who it would be,
What she fell for and
What she yearned for!
And for all those questions
Unasked yet answered!

The sprouting from the most
Darkest and deepest part
Of her heart and yet
Potent to encompass
Even the whole universe.

She answered yes,
To the one who would be
The base of her future
And part of every moment
In living out her life.

He jumped out in joy
For his dream came true!
She, to him is
A dream of decades,
Centuries and beyond!
An imagination for the future
Counted in few light years!
And the hope of his life!

Yet he did not knew
And would never know
That his jump of joy,
Trampled a little sprout,
In the darkest and deepest
Of her trembling heart!

And the yes was said,
Only in the hope
That the excess of love
Spilling from his brimming heart
Would be enough
To grow a garden.

A garden that is

Amazingly attractive with
Blooming buds,
Colorful, calm, cheery and
Dazzlingly Distracting her
From the erstwhile eerie era.
For the future is founded in the
Glorious gestures of him.

Her hysterical history
Is inappropriate and an insult to him in the
Journey jabbing with
Kindness, from the King of
Love, lust and listless luxury of
Meaningful merger of two minds.

Neither negotiated the needles,
Obviously Omnipresent in the
Pressure pursuing the presence of those
Quirk quiet emptiness lurking in the
Relationship rumbling with romance.

Still she shivered silently in
The thunderous transition of her
Unspeakables into utter useless rubbish.

Vulnerability of the viable future
Whisked her into Wishing for
eXclusive explosions of
Yelling and yet in the yonder, the
Zeal of him zapped her completely.

As she had been encompassed by his,
Love, lust and everything in between
In her heart and mind too!!

Existing in Non-Existence

In general,
we all crave for attention..
We want to be
noticed,
accepted,
appreciated,
acknowledged
and moreover exist.

Even the humblest of humans
crave for existence.
But is there a possibility of
existing without that craving?
Is there a possibility of
shunning the acknowledgement?

When you all keep wondering,
Here I am..

For me,
the limelight becomes beams of fire..
the announcements become streams of tears..
passing hands is the worst nightmare..
noticing is tightening the noose..

I exist in non-existence..
I thrive in the deep darkness..
I live and die without a trace..
For traces are a disgrace to me..

Despite, my need to hide to shine,
I do exist in each and every heart..
In the folds, even veins cant reach..
In the holds of creepy claws that screech,
In the voice of silence..
Waiting to unleash..
Yet, not available for lease..

You do see me day in and day out..
For I do reside in you too..
For few, I am a shame..
For few, I am the fame..
I, your secret, is just a game,
For the beauty of me,
is just in the name..

Expressions and Experiences!

Those who have seen, hasn’t expressed it;
Those who have expressed, hasn’t seen it!

கண்டவர் விண்டிலர்; விண்டவர் கண்டிலர்!

kaNDavar viNdilar; viNdavar kaNDilar!

This statement is with reference to God. But I would like to extend it to many other experiences.

We do talk a lot and we seem to dish out advises every way, whenever an opportunity presents itself.
But do we really mean what we talk?
Do we really experience the tales we spin?
Are the tales we boast of are from experience?
Or is the spinning of tale is the actual experience?

And there are certain experiences. Even the best of artist couldn’t express the experience completely even in the medium they excel at.. Such as a Musician couldn’t recreate the experience in the music. The music he composes could even be better than the experience, but the actual recreation isn’t possible. Even for the endless words available to a writer, the experience is altogether a different ball game.

So I suggest every arm-chair traveller to push themselves and experience the experience of actual travel! The travel would not lead to the magical world of Narnia or the fantastic Hogwarts. But there is another kind of magic in reality.

The love and kindness of a stranger in a moment of dire need.
The happiness of the window seat on a scenic route.
The shades of sky and the speed of changes during the sunset.
The smell of petrichor combined with the flowers of the local and human scents.
The rush of air and the play with the hair.
The taste of food after waiting hungry for an hour.

There are much more to add to that list. Which could never ever be completely explained even by exhausting the vocabulary of the world. For there is no match to experience! Ever!

The Post-mortem report!

On August 9, 2016 I requested for a post-mortem report. The report was worth sharing and requested a post of its own and here it is.

Thanks to Colin (www.meandray.com) for providing the very interesting report. And the report is so good and it needed to see the limelight and here it is for you to dissect further.

The Subject:

I had a thought just a moment ago..
The moment passed and so did the thought..
The thought might return,
Would the moment return too?

But the thought was it the same?
Coz previously it was original,
Now it is mere repetition..

As moments keep flowing,
Thoughts too keep flowing..

Few are ground breaking..
Few just break the head..

Few just stay forever..
Few just disappear like a vapour..

Few eludes the words..
Few eludes from remembrance..

Few are intimate..
Few are despicable..

Few are reverent..
Few are guilty..

Few are forgotten..
Few are immortalised..

Few are stacked away deep within and taken to grave..
While few are publicised and taken for post-mortem..

So what is your post-mortem report of this thought?!

The Report and the discussion!

First report (Colin)

A post-mortem is final
It signifies death
It recaps what has been
And what can never be again
A post-mortem determines
Cause and effect
It simply defines …..
the hows, but never the whys.

Your thoughts are not in this group
For thoughts can be again
They may die, but then they may live
As long as you are alive
Your thoughts are simply dormant
Asleep until that time
When circumstances dictate an awakening
And your thoughts can live again

Perhaps you shared your thoughts
Perhaps that person will nurture them
They may then live a different life
Have slightly different results
And in the event of your passing
Their life is still assured

A post-mortem on your thoughts
Is therefore quite illogical
For they may not have to die
But should they fade with the memories of you
Then we will all be grief stricken
Such beautiful thoughts
Such expressions of awareness
Gone forever
Why?

Second Report (Aadhira)

Is the thought the same
After it transforms into words
And take some shape?
Don’t they attain a finality?
They do die as thought
And be born again as poetry,
action, prose, letter, inspiration
and much much more..

But definitely the thought
as mere thought has died..

And though the deaths are painful,
“After all, to the well-organized mind,
death is but the next great adventure.” (JKR)
So as my thoughts embark on to the next,
Let us not hesitate to post-mortem..

Yes, the post-mortems are about
Cause and Effect..
Let us ponder over
What caused the ripple..
Let us linger over
How far the ripple reaches..

And after all,
“Heard melodies are sweet,
but those unheard are sweeter” (John Keats)
So let us not grieve over lost sweetness,
But just prepare ourselves for more sweetness..

Third Report (Colin)

But if a thought dies
And resurrects in words
Was it really ever dead?
And if a mere thought could die
And caused more thoughts after resurrection
Then its soul surely lives on
Albeit in a different form

The next great adventure pre-supposes death
Which has not (here) been determined
So yes, let us ponder on the ripple
Let us linger over its reach
Let us determine its existence
But unlike a thought
The ripple does die
It is absorbed by its own medium

John Keates was right
That unheard sounds are the sweetest
Unheard sounds
Unspoken thoughts
Unseen ripples
Do they have much much in common?

Unheard sounds are limited by ones imagination
Unspoken thoughts are limited to the creator
Unseen ripples are never realized to their full potential
But let us not forget
This is about post-mortems
A post-mortem on an unheard sound is ludicrous
A post-mortem on an unspoken thought lacks imagination
A post-mortem on an unseen ripple simply cannot be.

The whole post-mortem discussion
Is a very subjective topic as you can no doubt see
With conflicting conditions being established
Quite simply by you…
… and by me!

Fourth Report (Aadhira)

The soul does live on dear..
But are we conducting
the post-mortem for the soul?

Unlike thought,
a ripple doesn’t die!
For the chaos theory states that
a flap of butterfly could cause whirlpools..
So imagine what all might happen
from a single ripple!

Just like a thought,
a Ripple is more powerful..
Yet neither the initial thought,
nor the initial ripple could ever
fathom the depth of its impact
nor the length of extension
it attains in the next form..

Those unheard / unspoken / unseen
are the privilege of the initiator
and are a secret to be guarded..
And it would be ridiculous for
expecting post-mortem on them..

When I talk, I express myself,
When I listen, I learn a new perspective..
What if there are just two views?
Still it is better than one right..

Fifth Report (Colin)

My friend, such differences we have
I believe ripples do in fact die
Even though their effect may live on
As for chaos theory?
Theory is all that it is, nothing more

When you talk, you do express yourself
But who are you?
A flower with complex scents
Will we ever know you?

When you listen, you learn new perspectives
But what are they?
A birth of new dreams perhaps
Will you ever tell us?

And as for just two views?
There really must be more
More than talking and listening
More than yours and mine

Does a mute man only listen?
Does a deaf man only talk?
Is the world simply you and I?

Perhaps an autopsy is necessary
For we all need to see
The infinite variables of life
In this wonderful world…
… that includes…
you and me!

Sixth Report (Aadhira)

Without experiencing Summer,
Rain couldn’t be appreciated better..
Still the beauty of Sun and Rain live on
complimenting each other in their own way..
Hence the differences bring out
the uniqueness and nurture the other..

When I talk, I express myself
as what I like you to know me as..
I might be the luring death
with the fragrance of rose
Or the majestic lotus amidst
the stinking mud..
So will I ever let you know..
Maybe, Maybe not..

When I listen, I learn new perspective..
But do I listen what is actually said,
Or do I listen what I want to hear?
Did I really understand your intent?
Or am I just babbling with words
that are spilled and set for dissection?

Will I ever acknowledge even to myself,
This is where a new dream was born?
Or am I that deep in vain,
To daresay that is my dream of ages?

There are indeed so many views,
just as there are many forms of dance..
When the dance of words are in such rhythm,
with its own tune and rhyme,
composed by and for the two,
others enjoy, absorb and cherish..
But would they dare to interfere?
Not, in the fear of messing the beat..

Who knows the colorful dreams of a blind?
Who hears the vocals of the mute?
Let us have little more compaasion
and spare those intellectually challenged..

There is so much wonder in here..
In this little world of you and me..
with open gates for anyone to enter
with no restraints so to leave at will..

So why be distracted by the visitors to come?
Let us explore the wonder and stage the play..
For the play lives on and someday….
Someone might enjoy the play
And even take part in it..

So, for now, the next act goes on
Just with the two of us..

Seventh Report (Colin)

You are right of course
What is black… without the white?
What is a smile… without a frown?
What is a right… without a wrong?
Differences allow us to appreciate
To see the contrasts

Differences give us choices
What to display and what to hide
What to embrace and…
What to push away.

It really is a wonderful world
Although some simply will not see
The clouds, the rainbows, the ripples in the pond
The birds, the flowers, the trees

Mother Nature, unlike us, has nothing desired to hide
She is open, for us all to see and love
Such beauty to behold
But again, some simply will not see
So let us encourage open eyes
For while they be distracting
We should share what we believe

We should share our conscious thoughts
And our appreciation of life
Perhaps it will stay just the two of us
But who knows…. perhaps another poet will call
Then we shall have more thoughts
Then we shall hear more sounds
Then we shall see more words
And then… our perspectives may change yet again!

Eight Report (Aadhira)

Despite the differences,
Black and white are untied as colors,
Smile and frown as emotion,
Right and wrong by moral..

While difference might accentuate beauty,
Being of same flock let’s in the recognition..

Choices are beautiful
Choices are confusing
Choices are conflicting

Beauty is in the eyes of beholder
You could force a person to open the eyes,
But never could push to enjoy the beauty..

Like the birth from the egg,
Let it break from inside..

While we wait for the birth,
Let us strengthen the nest,
Add little more color and cheer
For the young one to cherish and nourish..

And let us keep the hope intact..
’cause, when there is addition to the world,
We might get a new view..
Or be assured of our old ones..

---

We are still waiting for some new facts / thoughts so we could keep building this further.. Anyone?! 😉

Thank You Stalker!

Every work of art has
Flawless Beauty,
Beautiful Flaws,
Mere Perfection,
Lack of Substance,
Life Lesson,
A mere scribble
And so much more..

And every such creator
Needs, not wants,
Needs a follower,
Bordering the level
of a professional stalker,
Without the creepiness,
But just with the consistency
And observation of the stalker..

To read the words,
To read the spaces,
Between the lines,
To realise the intent,
To understand the nuances,
To find out the unwritten words,
To appreciate the concealment,
Of ingeniousness inside simplicity..

To criticise,
To condemn,
To proofread,
To push when stagnating,
To pull down when going overboard,
To travel alongside,
Just to make sure,
The journey isn’t lonely..

For every journey
Is bound to get lonely at times
And also it could make sure that
The traveller feels
Abandoned,
Hopeless,
Lost and maybe
On the wrong route..

So I dedicate this 275th post,
To thank my followers,
Friends, critics and supporters
And especially my stalkers,
For every single Like,
Comment and Follower,
On and Off the WordPress,
For getting me here!

(: THANK YOU! 🙂

A Preface to a Series!

I have been in love with the prose-poetry of Bharathi, even before I know, what love is. The love for those brilliant pieces and the love for my readers has pushed me to translate them, for the benefit of English-reading people, to enjoy the brilliance and nuances of my love.

Starting tomorrow, I will be posting part(s) of the Prose-Poetry as a weekly series. And here is the Preface to that series. (Just to clarify, the series will be in English and only the preface is in tamizh. English version is available below the Tamil.)

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பைந்தமிழின் எழிலில் வீறுநடை பயின்ற தமிழை,
எளிய தமிழில் இன்னிசை ஏற்றி,
இராக தாளத்துடன் நயமும் ஊற்றி,
இயல் இசை நாடகம் மூன்றையும் போற்றி,

பாமரனும் காவியம் கற்றிடவே,
புரட்சிகள் பலவும் நிதமும் நிகழ்ந்திடவே,
மூத்ததமிழுக்கு புத்தாடை உடுத்தி
கன்னித்தமிழென புத்துயிர் புகட்டிய
கவிச் சக்கரவர்த்தி, எம் மகாகவி பாரதி!

தமிழை தமிழனுக்கே புதிதாய் காட்டி
தமிழ் முழங்கும் திசையெலாம்
தன் தமிழால் வியாபித்து நிற்கும் பாரதி!

நூறாண்டு காலத்திற்கு முன்பே
தீர்க்கதரிசியென சொல்லிச் சென்றான்
என உள்ளம் பூரித்து கொண்டாடியபோதும்,
இன்றும் மாறா மூடர் கூட்டம் உள்ள தெண்ணி
என் நெஞ்சு பொறுக்குதில்லையே..

வல்லமை தாராயோ,
இந்த மாநிலம் பயனுற வாழ்வதற்கே,
என்று கலங்கிய நொடியிலும்,
எனைச் சுடர் மிகும் அறிவுடன் மெருகேற்றும்
என் ஆசானின் வார்த்தைகளே துணை நின்று வழி வகுத்தது..

யான் பெற்ற இன்பம் இவ்வையகமும் பெற்றிடவும்,
என் தீந்தமிழின் தீரா இனிமையும்,
பாரதியின் சொற்களும், திக்கெட்டும் ஒலித்திடவும்,
தமிழல்லரும் பாரதி எனும் பாகை பருகிடவும்,

கற்றறிந்த ஆன்றோர் பலர், மொழி பெயர்த்து வெளியிட்டும்,
காப்புரிமை காரணமாக இணையத்தில் இன்று வரை வெளி வராத,
ஆங்கிலம் காணாத சில நல் முத்துக்களை வெளிக்கொணரவும்,
ஆழி தாண்டும் பாலமமைக்க இவ்வணிலின் சிறு முயற்சி!

பின் குறிப்பு:
பிழைகள் கண்டால் பொறுத்து கொள்ளாமல் சுட்டிக் காட்டிடுக
நிறைகள் கண்டால் மதியிலிறுத்தி நாளும் வாழ்வில் பயின்றிடுக
மனம் நிறைந்தால் பகிர்ந்திடுக, நட்புடனும் சுற்றத்துடனும்.
மறவாது எம் பக்கத்துக்கு இணைப்பளித்து..

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Transliteration:

paindhdhamizhin ezhilil veeRunadai payindRa thamizhai,
eLiya thamizhil innisai aetRi,
raaga thaaLathudan nayamum ootRi,
iyal isai naadagam moondRaiyum poatRi,

paamaranum kaaviyam katRidavae,
puratchigaL palavum nidhamum nigazhndhdhidavae,
moothadhamizhukku puthaadai uduthi
kannithamizhena puthuyir pugattiya
kavi chakkaravarthi, em magaagavi paaradhi!

thamizhai thamizhanukkae pudhidhaay kaatti
thamizh muzhanggum thisaiyelaam
than thamizhaal viyaabithu niRkum paaradhi!

nooRaaNdu kaalathiRku munpae
theerkkadharisiyena cholli chendRaan
ena uLLam poorithu koNdaadiyaboadhum,
indRum maaRaa moodar koottam uLLa theNNi
en nenjju poRukkudhillaiyae..

vallamai thaaraayoa,
indhdha maanilam payanuRa vaazhvadhaRkae,
endRu kalanggiya nodiyilum,
enai chudar migum aRivudan merugaetRum
en aasaanin vaarthaigaLae thuNai nindRu vazhi vaguthadhu..

yaan petRa inpam ivvaiyagamum petRidavum,
en theendhdhamizhin theeraa inimaiyum,
paaradhiyin soRkaLum, thikkettum olithidavum,
thamizhallarum paaradhi enum paagai parugidavum,

katRaRindhdha aandRoar palar, mozhi peyarthu veLiyittum,
kaappurimai kaaraNamaaga iNaiyathil indRu varai veLi varaadha,
aanggilam kaaNaadha sila nal muthukkaLai veLikkoNaravum,
aazhi thaaNdum paalamamaikka ivvaNilin siRu muyaRsi!

pin kuRippu:
pizhaigaL kaNdaal poRuthu koLLaamal suttik kaattiduga
niRaigaL kaNdaal madhiyiliRuthi naaLum vaazhvil payindRiduga
manam niRaindhdhaal pagirndhdhiduga, natpudanum sutRathudanum.
maRavaadhu em pakkathukku iNaippaLithu..

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Tamil, which was walking majestically as the ancient language,
Was infused with music in a simpler language,
While filling it with tune, rhythm and fineness,
And praising the forms of prose, poetry and drama of Tamil as well;

For even the layman to enjoy literature,
For revolutions to happen everyday;

The age-old Tamil was adorned with a fresh attire,
And given a new life as young Tamil;

By the emperor of poems, Mahakavi Bharathi!

By re introducing Tamil even to Tamils,
He has become all-prevalent,
In every direction, where Tamil is known,
Through his style and words of Tamil!

Though the heart celebrates, with pride,
As I realise that, he had said, what he said,
A century back, as a foreseeing prophet;
I couldn’t stand to think nor accept, that,
There are still fools out there, as ever..

When I was crest fallen and prayed as,
Won’t you give me the strength,
To live a life of purpose and
For the betterment of this world;
The words that stood as my strength,
And cleared the way ahead, were those of,
My teacher, Bharathi,
Who enlightens my knowledge,
To that of sparkling brilliance..

Though, there were many scholars,
Who had already translated Bharathi’s works,
Due to copyright, it was unexplored,
In the realms of internet.

For I want the world to enjoy,
The treasures I have enjoyed;
For the sweetness of Tamil and
The brilliance of Bharathi to spread
Across every single direction;
For the English to enjoy
The excellence of Bharathi;
To bring to light, the hitherto unexplored Tamil;

A small step, by this tiny drop,
in the vast ocean of translation,
Hoping to create ripples,
that cross the language barriers.

If you find errors,
do not tolerate,
but point it out;
If you find treasures,
do not forget them,
but follow them;
If you love them,
do not be selfish,
but share them;

With due credit to the translator,
For this too is copyrighted,
And available for free distribution
Over internet, with due credits.

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A drop of water!

Is this drop
From heaven or
From hell?

Is it based on
Where you start or on
Where you end…

Are you
A sign of life?
Coming from dew drops..

Are you
A sign of death?
Coming from the tears…

Are you
A sign of wound?
Coming from the pain of heart…

Are you
A sign of heal?
Coming from the Phoenix’s tears…

The Drop of Water!

Your travel
Just
Started?
On the way?
At the end?

Are you
Gonna evaporate
And disappear into thin air?

Are you
Gonna get absorbed
And lose yourself
Into a renewed seedling?

Are you
Gonna fall

On a shell,
And create
An exquisite pearl?

On a peacock,
And initiate
A mesmerizing dance?

On a stone,
And drained
In the cosmic silence?

On a photo,
To be the content
Of my verses?

Oh, dear drop…
It’s my capital error,
To think of you as tiny…

For you could also be
The proof of life
And source of life..

For we are nothing
Without you..
Physically,
Emotionally
And Creatively…

I bow before thee,
For thy omnipresence
And magnificence…

The Oxymorons!

No Bro, it is not about you.. Now be at peace and continue with my most favourite post’s translation.. This original post was published in Tamil very long ago and yet got its first like just yesterday.. Since I am too fond of this, I am giving it a makeover in English.. And if this post has put a smile on your face, do record it on comments and spread the cheer.. 🙂

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The Oxymorons!

There are some noises
Which defies the term noise..
The lapping of waves of the ocean
Does not disturb the serene silence..

There are some mistakes
Which looks poetic to our thoughts..
A toddler teaching the parent
Does become much more than a kid..

There are some silences
Which are deafening..
The silence in lovers’ tiff
Does belong to part of their conversation..

There are few poetic things
Which look utterly wrong..
The insults from a dear friend
Does never ever mean insults to either..

Are these due to
Wrong Words,
Wrong Meanings,
Or Wrong Interpretations?

These unanswerable questions
Are like the tides of the ocean,
They make us admire,
They become the content of poetry..

Yet,
The answers are never revealed,
Just as the tides never rest!

---

 Transliteration

muRaiyum muraNnum

sila OsaigaLum
nisabthamaai kaetkum..

alai kadalin
iRaichal yenO
sapthanNGaLil saervathe illai..

sila kaatchi piZhaigaLum
kavithaiyaai thOndRum..
thaGappansaamiyaai maaRum
kuZhanthaiGal yenO
kuZhanthaiGalaai therivathe illai..

sila mounanGalum
pAeriraichalaai kaetkum..
Oodal paesidum
mounam yenO
mounathin inam saervathe illai..

sila kavithaiGalum
kaatchip piZhaiyaaga theriyum..
nAesamiGu natpin
kObam yenO
kObathil saervathe illai..

ivai chorkutRamaa?
porutkutRamaa?
alla
paarkum paarvaiyaaLanin kuttRamaa?

vidaitheriyaa
intha kaeLviGaL
aaZhiyin chella alaiGal pola..
rasikka vaikum..
kaviporuLaaga maaRum..

aanaal yenRume
vidaiyum therivathillai..
alaigaLum Oyvathillai..

---

 முறையும் முரணும்

சில ஓசைகளும்
நிசப்தமாய் கேட்கும்..
அலை கடலின்
இறைச்சல் ஏனோ
சப்தங்களில் சேர்வதே இல்லை..

சில காட்சிப் பிழைகளும்
கவிதையாய் தோன்றும்..
தகப்பன்சாமியாய் மாறும்
குழந்தைகள் ஏனோ
குழந்தைகளாய் தெரிவதே இல்லை..

சில மௌனங்களும்
பேரிரைச்சலாய் கேட்கும்..
ஊடல் பேசிடும்
மௌனம் ஏனோ
மௌனத்தின் இனம் சேர்வதே இல்லை.

சில கவிதைகளும்
காட்சிப் பிழையாகத் தெரியும்..
நேசமிகு நட்பின்
கோபம் ஏனோ
கோபத்தில் சேர்வதே இல்லை..

இவை சொற்குற்றமா?
பொருட்குற்றமா?
அல்ல
பார்க்கும் பார்வையாளனின் குற்றமா?

விடைத்தெரியா
இந்த கேள்விகள்
ஆழியின் செல்ல அலைகள் போல..
இரசிக்க வைக்கும்..
கவிப் பொருளாக மாறும்..

ஆனால் என்றுமே
விடையும் தெரிவதில்லை..
அலைகளும் ஓய்வதில்லை..

Ripples of Ripples!

Tick tock..
Tick tock..
Tick tock..

The clock kept ticking..
As a new blog was created..
As I wrote my first post..

Tick tock..
Tick tock..
Tick tock..

One post..
Next post..
Few posts..
And here
Another post..
It’s still ticking..

Tick tock..
Tick tock..
Triiiiiingggggg….

The shrill is sweet..
For it marks time..
A special moment..
And it chimes to shout out…

Here is the 50th post..
On the 600th day of the first Ripple..

It’s time to throw back a quick glimpse..

I started blogging as a complete novice..
Just to spill out few words of my thoughts..
After 600 days, I’m still a novice,
Yet my brain is being filled better everyday..
Better than I could have ever dreamed..

What I thought I knew,
At the start of blogging
Has undergone a radical change..

My old beliefs were shattered..
Fears were crumbled..
Still I am trusted..
Just to be myself and
Still be better than awesome..
For new paths were discovered..
And a new journey has begun..
Within my thoughts and beyond..
In the blogosphere and beyond..

The more I read and tread,
The more I learn and realise,
How much vast the ocean is..
And how tiny a drop* I’m in blogging..

I thought I was looking
At a part of the world..
I now know I’m just looking
At a pin hole on
The outlines* of blogosphere,
Which makes me awkward..

I wonder why*
I ever thought that
I could be worthy of blogging..

And I now realise that,

The simple moments of life*
Have turned into
The treasured moments of heart,
With the joy of
Appreciation, Belief
And Compliments
From the Dear ones of blogosphere..

The life is not just about growing..
It also includes struggling and
It’s about not giving up..
It’s all about writing*,
Even through storms..

It is all about learning to stay afloat..
You just keep Jiving your way*
And you would eventually end up
In the path you are destined to..

You don’t choose a path.
The path chooses you..
And all you could hope is,
Let the walk* be filled with beauty..
And let’s not be blind to ignore
The beauty in the mundane..

When the eyes behold beauty,
Our lips light up with a smile..
Let’s spill out all our smiles here and there*
And let us straighten the world
With the curve of our lips
And the spill of our pens..

And here above
Are the eight bloggers,
Who got struck
In my compass,
With their unique charm,
To guide me
Into various realms
And have accompanied me,
In the travel of my blogosphere..

There are lot more bloggers
And pointers that have led me to here..
They had been of great help
In unravelling
My knots of thoughts*…

I could have got lost
And would not be here today
Even if one of them
Were absent or invisible..

I’m reading writing living* here..
And that’s not a mere living
But it’s living the dream* life..

Let my soul talk*
And let that touch* yours..
Let you not be a Martian*
But let be a sweet Mithai*
When your heart speaks*
To hit on the like button..

It is possible only coz of YOU..
The one who’s reading this..
Till this post, till this line..
For you have been with me..
So long through the journey..

Now let me ask you,
To follow the stars..
Spread through my post..
For these are the stars
That brighten up
my dark nights
and are my companion
at my glowing moments..

Now I’m going at a loss of words..
For the simple two words “Thank You”
Is so short to express what I feel..

As I go in search of words..
I hear that sound again..

Tick tock..
Tick tock..
Tick tock..

The time stands test
To our trials and treasures..

Let me hear many more tick tocks..
And let time hear many more treasures..
Of mine from you…

Tick tock..
Tick tock..
Tick tock..

P.S. – I’m sorry that YOUR blog hasn’t find place in here yet.. I do thank you from the depth of my heart.. For reading till here.. You are indeed special to me.. Which is beyond the realms of words.. 😉

Thank You!!!

Poetic child ~ கவிக்குழந்தை

என் தாய் மொழியில் நான் ஈன்ற முதல் மகவு, ஆங்கிலத்தில் நடை பழகும் அழகிது…
Here’s the beauty of my first child in my mother tongue.. 🙂

Though there might be plenty of works by one who writes,
Few gets appreciated by everyone else and
Very few hold a special place in the hearts of the writer, like a mother feels extra special about her first child..

This is the  first article, I felt special about..
This one is the last click of the key for me, accepting myself as a writer..

I have been postponing the translation as in forever, for I couldn’t imagine the verse in any other form than its original tamizh version..
Even the transliteration was not as joyful as seeing them in tamizh..

Still, this translation, is my compromise to let my work reach far and beyond..

Hope you enjoy at least half of how much I enjoy this work..

Do let me know your comments without fail…

The child of a poet / Poetic child

A poetry conceived
In the heart of a poet
With an indefinite
Gestation period
Is indeed the child of the poet..

It ventures into the world
Tearing the placenta..

The poetry as a child is
Conceived in the womb and
Grown in the thoughts..
Over time,
It grows,
Nourishes and
Transforms..

Yet,
As a born child
Could never get back
Into the mother’s womb..

The written verse,
Could never creep back
Into the thoughts
Of the writer..

The full stop,
At the end of the poetry,
Is the same, as that of
Severing the umbilical cord..
Severing the last contact
Of the poet and poetry..

Yet,
The relationship of
A mother and the child
Has no severance
And it’s eternal..

The poet’s contentment,
Of drafting the poem
Is far exceeded,
Only on the appreciation
From the learned audience..

  – Aadhirai

A Single drop of water

This post has been written for Prompt of the Month; a feature of Writer’s Ezine

When I saw this prompt, the first thing that popped in my mind is this old post of mine.

Here is the post again with few minor tweaks..

A ripple is a set of reactions to a thing..
It might be a drop in a serene still pond..
It might be the leap of frog within the pond to the shore..

Let us assume this to be a single drop of water…

What is this drop of water?
What could all be this single drop of water?

It might be the source of life for an exquisite pearl…
Or it might be the last drop of tear from a parting soul…

It might be the excess condensation of a cool glass…
It might be the sweat formed of the scorching sun…

It might be the life breath for a bee..
It might be the drowning drain for an ant…

It might be the life-giver…
It might be the life taker…

Nothing is good and as well nothing is bad..

It’s not about the drop of water… It is all about the place where it drops..

When a drop of rain falls on the feathers of the Peacock,
     I witness the beautiful dance of the peacock, 
When a drop of rain falls in the layers of rock,
     I witness the mere silence of the rock..

Beauty lies not in the object,
But in the eyes of the beholder…

If you could find the beauty around you,
Be proud that you have a beautiful heart..

Keep spreading the joy and cheer always.. 🙂

ஆதிரை ~ Aadhirai

A Blessing in Disguise!?!

I’ve always been a fan of butterfly for so many reasons..
An incident happened to increase my fascination of them..

I went to a temple, few days back, and was coming around the shrine..
I came across a butterfly in that path on the floor..
I adored the beauty at a distance and moved on..

I came back in the same path after few minutes and was surprised to see that beauty was still on the floor..
I realised it was not flying at all and presumed it was not alive..

Still, it was so cute and I didn’t want it to be trampled by unnoticing passer-by people..
When I lifted it, it showed few weak movements, so I left it in a corner for it to recover itself and fly off, for lack of a better idea at that time..

After few more minutes of wandering, came across the butterfly again in the spot I left..
Now I was getting interested in it and let it sit on a leaf and carried around, with me while seeing to some chores..
It walked a bit and was totally feeble to fly..

Past, Present, Future..

I’ve completed a complete year with my blog..

So I could say this as my birthday in the virtual world..

I’ve started this as something different,
But it led me to much more..

Paradise lost

கண்ணிலான் பெற்றிழந்தான்..
I don’t remember where I heard this first time, but I’m so grateful for the one who introduced me to this line..

What’s it about this line?
Transliteration – kaNNilaan peRRizhandhaan..
Translation – A blind person, got sight and lost it back..
Conceived by – Kamban
Verse – 325 of Kamba Ramayanam

This is an epitome of agony and pain undergone by a person at times of loss..

Context:
The mighty king Dasarathan was blessed with his children after several prayers..
He was asked, of his son Rama, to be of service, to a hermit in the forests, a hazardous job for a Prince..
The mentality of the king is portrayed as that of a blind, who had enjoyed the blessings of the vision and has gone back blind..

Why the line pops into my mind and blows me off every time?
The loss could have been described in so many ways..

Answering Life

The key to a happy life is not about knowing answers to every question that arose in the world..

It’s just about knowing answers to the questions thrown at you..

It is just like another who wants to be a millionaire show, where you are awarded the contentment of a peaceful life at the end of the last question..

Hence, it never matters what all you know.. It only matters whether you know the right answers to those fifteen questions and in the right order..

It also doesn’t matter if you know answers to questions 2 – 15 but not the first one, you get disqualified then and there..

How do you know which question will come at what time?
That’s the riddle and beauty of it..

The most beautiful way to get to know the right answers: Be alive at the moment, grasp everything around you, through sight, sound, taste, touch and feel them..

It doesn’t help you whether you are a prodigy or the most ignorant person in the world..

How intriguing and interesting life is?

– ஆதிரை

My reflections upon a great poet’s work

காற்றில் வந்த காதல்

மனிதனை கவிஞன் ஆக்குவது
உலகத்தின் மீதான அவன் பார்வை..

அவனை மகாகவி ஆக்குவது,
நிதம் காணும்
காற்றில் ஆடும்
கயிற்றில்
கந்தனையும்
வள்ளியையும்
வாயுவையும் கண்டது!!

காற்றில் ஆடும் கொடி, இளங்கோவிற்கு எச்சரிக்கை செய்தது!!
காற்றில் ஆடும் கயிறு, பாரதிக்கு நட்பாக பதிலளித்து!!

காற்றுக்கு மட்டும் அல்ல,
கவிக்கும் உயிர் கொடுக்கும் ஆற்றல் உண்டு..

I suggest you to read the quote first and then read / re-read about my perspective of the poetic lines..

This is the work of Bharathi and this is the one which made me realise what perspective is.. How something so common and in the background of everyday life, comes to life with imagination..

What distinguishes a man from a poet is his perspective..
This is my classic example for ‘Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder’..

In a traditional shed, it’s very common to see ropes hanging below the roof..

But it’s very uncommon to give them
a name, a relationship, love, lust, romance, life, death and immortality..

More than that it’s woven into picture, interlaced with humour, satire..
What all makes it a pleasure to read includes,
The rhythm of the words,
The richness of the content,
The simplicity of the complexity,
The beauty of the scene,
The intimacy of the lovers,
The reverence to the love,
The divinity of the soul,
The serenity of the divine..

Though it’s imaginary, the culture is upheld and reflected in the shyness of the damsel, the way the conversation is directed towards Kandan,  and in the way she is referred to by the poet..

It’s not only a pleasure to see the intimacy of young love, it’s also a pleasure to see the bonding between the friends..

Every time I read,
It starts with an introduction to unreality,
Possibility of the imagination,
Bonding of friendship,
Booming of the love,
Craziness of lust,
Transformation of the ordinary,
Answers to the unending questions,
Brilliance of the answers,
And the overall structure of it..
This has never stopped to amaze me..

Do let me know, if it amazes you too.. 🙂