Thursday, April 30, 2009

You and me

You have left behind your traces in my path. Wherever I go, I see people who had met you, words that you had read and poems you  had written. That’s too much for me, for I have always played along with you, as if I believed each and every word you had said. But here, when I look back, I feel that your love is nothing more than a big lie; for the great darkness has sure unveiled quite a number of shadows that existed and shown in clear light what every single moment of wavering cost. With each day, it was my nature than corroded and rusted, only to be discarded along with scrap. You have scattered your scents in the wide universe; and I now out of four walls of my alone self can resist loving your soul, who wandered with me throughout ages and all times. 

Part of Definitions 

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Good Vs Bad

In Friends, when Joey writes a letter of reference for Monica and Chandler, he writes in broken English and substitutes each word in his letter with synoyms from the Thesaurus. Each and every word, until Chandler finds that even Joey's name is subsitituted as baby kangaroo. Now from Joey's basic written English skills to our topic!

Who can say that he/she is a good writer? I cannot claim that I'm a writer. When somebody asks about my work and what do I write, I generally evade the question. Some of it has to do with my awareness of my own limitations. Then comes great writers who can make you enticed for hours and hours without stumbling across any word or thought in their writing.

Then comes this need to simplify everything. When I see bad writing, my gut instinct is to change it into a better form. I have read bad writing that has an antique taste, as if it was taken out of some English book written two hundred years ago and happily copied by a lot of people as good writing.

What I feel is that writing is an internalised process; you cannot study a style and emulate it in writing just by following how the words go. Rather than that the message has to come in clear and sharp terms and many good writers re-write until they get their ideas clearly in writing.

This might be dismissed as plain rubbish; but if you can become a good writer by imitating the style of 'good writers', beware dear writer, you might be centuries behind!


Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Waterlily


Just to take this picture, I kept an alarm and woke up early to everyone' s surprise.  Anyway, this picture has come out so well out that I have  made it into my blog-picture. 

Monday, April 27, 2009

Wayside view

This was taken on an impulse, on a day that I had stopped to stare at these lovely flowers on the road, with my friend!

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Waterlily in our garden




This was a surprise on Saturday, when I found out that the pond in our garden has a new-comer other than the frogs, tadpoles and fish(officially it's Dad's fishpond). Beautiful, graceful and bright-shaded, this water-lily has changed the appearance of the entire place. I hope to get up early morning tomorrow to get a snap of it, with its petals opened. 

Saturday, April 25, 2009

My alma mater


Mar Ivanios College, Trivandrum
Veritas liberabit vos
Truth shall liberate you, 
My college for seven long years. 

Thursday, April 23, 2009

A Song


A song from the heart,
Always written in absence,
Reaches you wherever you’re.


Wednesday, April 22, 2009

April 22: Earth day and my brother's b'day


EARTH DAY 
Thank you, my beautiful earth,
For being my home and muse,
For sights, sounds, beings and life.

 B'DAY 
Thank you, my little brother
For being my strength and support,
For the bundle of love that you bring. 


Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Work

Your work earns you respect and keeps your body and soul together. It fills your empty mind with thoughts of perfection and keeps you focused enough to face the mad words that the world slings at you. But most of us have known the joys and pains of hibernation, when you rested at home and proved the reverse of the rule of motion that a body in motion stays in motion by obeying the rule of inertia. 

Then one day when your words gather rust, you set out in search of greener pastures to rest your mind; for with no work to fill the empty spaces, life turns dull and monotonous; days close and open their eyes. When in such dreary states, the mind naturally longs for some puzzle to solve, some people to teach and some words to write. That's where you find your destination within your reach; to help you glaze like newly burnished metal; you know only to be a light and to shine and sparkle. 

Read more Definitions

Monday, April 20, 2009

Time


Words have lost their shine
And have faded and died,
Like the blossoms in my garden.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Five Favourite Songs

Leaving on a Jet Plane by John Denver
Illegal by Shakira
• Everything I do by Bryan Adams
From this Moment On by Shania Twain
Hero by Enrique Iglesias 


Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Irony

You dab colours with a steady hand,
While mine shakes and shivers,
When putting colours on a blank face. 


Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Happy Vishu!


Yellow flowers of prosperity

Sunday, April 12, 2009

A tribute to Joy on his death anniversary

Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.


Tall, dark and handsome, his smile radiates a serenity that is charming. From the stained photographs his smile reaches and touches my heart. A heart-warming smile. He is the man I have always loved. Wherever I have walked, I’ve carried his memory within me like a treasure. In the sad moments of life I have called out his name and cried. He's my father, who left shelves full of books, not even a grave to visit, for that went with renovations as general space.  

I know what books he liked to read and touch with care the books he had loved feeling the spirit reach out to me through other people’s words and by the words he had underlined. Every detail matters. I did not have the good fortune to know him personally though i have heard a lot about him from others.  

Looking at his photographs I see that I look like him and it makes me happy though at times I feel sad that I don’t take after my beautiful mother. 

Yet I have known deeply, intuitively like the song that I hear every day. He made me love him just by his absence and this loving heart has always loved him completely idealizing him and seeing him as my hero.

He’s still my hero whose presence lights up my path and accounts for a guardian-like presence in all trials and tribulations. He’s the spirit who walks with me wherever I go.


Wednesday, April 08, 2009

You and Me

You and I don't have anything common between us apart from our love for words. You love stringing words together; beautiful words that collide against my mind, when I encounter them somewhere in books. They show how you have been digging words, their meanings and their various tones to paint pictures.

While here I sit and sweat trying to express what is on my mind; for words fail when it comes to what I feel for you. So I try to explain mystery after mystery, glance after glance, suddenly remembered conversations that bring you clear before me.

You and I have been away from each other for too long. Sometimes, I find that the colour of your words have faded and died. It has nothing to do with me, I know, but the fact is that  it no longer makes me laugh or cry unlike earlier and I long for those unwritten words of yours.


Tuesday, April 07, 2009

The Night

Like sugar on my dark kitchen counter,
The night has spilled countless stars
And undressed fair jasmines in the bushes.


Saturday, April 04, 2009

Say You're One of Them

One good writer that I have read recently is Uwem Akpan, a Nigerian priest who has an MFA in Creative Writing. His debut collection of short stories Say You’re One of Them won the regional prize for Best First Book from Commonwealth Nations, The five stories in this collection are narrated by children, aged between six and sixteen, in five countries in Africa. They are surrounded by genocide, wars, human trafficking, AIDS, corruption and communal and religious conflicts. The stories show a shocking glimpse of Africa- street life, politics, prostitution and bloodshed. 

Thursday, April 02, 2009

Bryan Appleyard

We tell stories to ourselves; of our journey from birth to death, friends, families, who we are and who we want to be. Or public stories about history and politics, about our country, our race or our religion. At each moment of our lives these stories place us in space and time. They console us, making our lives meaningful by placing us in something bigger than ourselves. May be the story is just that we are in love, that we have to feed the cat or educate the children. Or may be it is about a lifelong struggle for salvation or liberation. Either way-however large or small the story- the human impulse is to make sense of each moment by referring it to a larger narrative. We need to live in a world not of our own making. 

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Twenty Tenets

Though I’m only an apprentice of writing, these are some of the lessons I have ‘recognised’ as useful while trying to write .

  • Use simple language.
  • Use active verbs.
  • Free write and edit.
  • Write to music.
  • Rewrite old writing. 
  • Write daily at least a page.
  • Write from the heart. 
  • Use different words for variety.
  • Dive into the eccentricities of imagination.
  • Write for yourself, edit for others.
  • Write about dreams, they are useful.
  • Learn grammar and punctuation.
  • Make good use of depression.
  • Read about other art forms.
  • Read poetry for inspiration.
  • Experiment with forms.
  • Listen to constructive criticism only.
  • Love your writing
  • Remember your inspirations.
  • Some suggestions don’t work.

Angst

Your words fill my heart with a strange emotion; it’s like seeing me in a mirror, a million crossroads ago. The words bring new possi...