English silence

I remember reading a tribute to OV Vijayan in an English daily. It narrated a story about his attempts to write a novel in English. Being an MA in English, it should have been an easy job for him; but once he started writing, he understood that his hand was blocked and that he couldn't write with flow. So he tried his mother-tongue and we have the historical Khasakinte Ithihasam. This anecdote stayed in my memory, because at that time, I was an MA student, eager and enthusiastic to devour whatever literary trivia that came my way. Now, five years later, I find that I'm still enthusiastic about writers and their idiosyncrasies.

Home

The metaphysical question popped someday;

When you wondered how a home could crumble,

Tremble and crash without digits on a Richter scale,

Without physical quakes or forces of destruction.

Certainly, it could crumble everyday with a tiff;

Might remain joyless, empty of sunshine and light

By premature deaths that leave eternal chasms,

Or by calamities silently borne with muted tears.

How else could you describe that fleeting security,

A little sunshine and feelings of coziness and comfort,

The cuddling warmth and the elusive happiness

Juxtaposed against violent fights and silences.

It still crumbles everyday with little misunderstandings,

As it has always done since you started all raging fires.

For Baby

My soul you are; my child,
My baby fluttering inside.

My days are full of longing,
Dreams of being your mom.

You were a dream before;
Now waiting at my door.

What bundle of surprises,
Wisdom, virtues and vices.

What a bond will ours be? 
I wait for time to tell me.

Unborn child, my little one,
Teach me again how to love.

Hibiscus

Winca Rosa

Snapshots from my Garden

Anger

There's a soul in me
Who hates to cuss 
And be cussed,
or even a single word
that flies from anger.

But there's a mind,
a little thwarted
a little violent
Who loves to break
someone's complacence.

on such days,my mind
Breaks out of silence,
thrashes the opponent
with bitter words
quite unexpected.

a little remorse felt,
but more satisfaction
at raised eyebrows
that show surprise
and a little awe.