Ray Bradbury on Creativity

Creativity is a continual surprise.

Goodness

How can silence create so much of love? You must have asked yourself so many times. Is there anything wrong in silence? For those who learn each other with time, love to sit silent and idle by each other. In their togetherness, there are no words nor there are promises. That's something you with your thousand questions will never understand.

But at times, I want to tell how much you mean to me, how the absences of day-to-day life spurs love in me and how I love even when you dream of freedom and of long-forgotten memories. You mean everything to me, even when you are silent, even when you are absent or even when you stop thinking of me.

Sometimes I feel the aura of your grace coming to mind as a picture of all that is good, great and nice- a big heart I have seen except when you are sad and your heart chokes with pain. But with all the goodness that you scatter around minute by minute, you know how to hide your self within those walls of goodness.

Tips for Good E-mail Writing

A good deal of communication takes place in the form of emails that you write to friends, colleagues and clients. In personal or professional communication through emails, you need to carefully follow certain guidelines that will help you write good mails while maintaining the etiquette of email communication.

• When sending a mail to a new email address, send a test mail first. Most of the time, errors in spelling can bounce the mail right back into your inbox.

• State the subject of your mail rather than leaving it empty. This enables easy search and retrieval of mails from a rather crowded inbox. Gmail has launched a feature called Inbox Preview that allows you to glimpse the first line of your recently received mails.

• Use the original mail thread while replying to a previous mail so that the receiver can also track the correspondence in case of any confusion.

• Customise your email by addressing the person. If at all you need to send the same mail to several people use the correct form of address and send it using the Bcc (Blind Carbon Copy) option. But don’t use the Cc (carbon copy) option unless it is necessary.

• Be precise and to the point. Use simple sentences to convey your message. A long mail is hard to read and remember especially for a person who receives quite a lot of mails a day.

• Write about a single topic in a mail rather than bombarding a single mail with a lot of information thereby helping the receiver to answer the relevant topic correctly.

• Delete the list of previous receivers while forwarding a mail so that you do not reveal a big list of addresses of people without their permission.

• Always remember that the web is a not secure enough to hold all your private details. Think twice before sending that angry e-mail or before revealing that extremely private piece of information in an email.
  

• Sound positive and energetic in your mails rather than depressed and drab.

• Re-read and edit the mail you have written, carefully going over the written matter for mistakes in grammar, punctuation or spelling.

• Using capital letters in mails is not advisable as such writing is considered as screaming in the internet lingo.

• Use the formatting tools but remember that the receiver may not be able to view the formatting. Take care about sending rich text to people who can view the message only in the plain text format.

• Don’t forward chain letters that are scary or superstitious.
  

• Don’t reply to spams either.

• Reply to important mails immediately possibly on the same day or the next rather than mulling over them for days together.
  

That Summer Long Ago

A long summer of uncertainties, 

Blazed many unquenchable fires, 

Many that burnt and scorched, 

Swallowing words and feelings. 

A thousand dreams buried soon, 

The flow of nature bottled up, 

In thick maroon curtains of silence

That hung quite out of place. 

A mess of life that stopped there,

In that long summer somewhere, 

From where it has moved hardly, 

An inch to gain back its momentum. 

The words have become sacred, 

The spaces no longer accessible, 

But memory brings back dreams,

In words said, words left unsaid. 

A few lines of poetry can't reveal, 

A love that lies dormant in ashes.

The Case of the Missing Po

There is a bird called Po (the one on the right)in my husband' s chidiyakhana. Yesterday, when I went to see the birds in the evening, I found that the cage was open and that Po was missing from the scene. The others were still there, though the cage was left open. All of us searched the entire corridor, where they are kept. We even searched outside though it was pitch dark and raining.

Finally, today Po was discovered in the room next to the corridor. It must have flown and hid there. Hungry and thirsty, it ran and ate seed when given food. Happy that it was only here and that it did not fly outside through the open windows.

Rivalry

Had you not swore rivalry,
My dear dear yellow rose,
Many lives would've escaped,
The tentacles of hopeless love .

You wanted to fare better
In all six pairs of male eyes,
To be fairer, smarter, lovelier,
Than me everyday of your life.

Your trials were not in vain,
But I would say you were,
Fairer, smarter and lovelier
Than I could ever be any day.

Still you crushed the dreams,
Of many embittered hearts,
Through your lies and advice,
Turned the heads upside down.

Looking back, I feel so foolish,
Surpass me in foolery as well.

Celebrating 200 posts

Journal: Serious and Trivial has reached 200 posts. On this day, the not-so-modest author has made a pick of what she considers as the best of her most valuable sacred space: potpourri blog of poems, silences, reviews and definitions of silence. Hope you enjoy them!

Definitions

Forget

Islands

Love

Meditation

Melodies new

My roots strangely

Needs

Our story

Remembrance

Seasons

Silence

Sublimation

Sweet nothings

The Year of the Metal Rooster

Tiny Feet

Tonight

Tribute to Kamala Suraiyya

Twilight Zone

Words

Yellow rose

Obsessions

You brought with you a little sunshine, a little laughter and myriad ragas of liveliness. Infatuated with you, I could never stop humming songs or stop dreaming of you. You come in those fantasies as an ideal lover, giving and receiving with full knowledge of a lover's desires.

The reality is a cruel world, broken by everyday hassles, mad world that has several faces of happiness and sadness in the single throw of a coin. You don’t appear at all in that cruel world. You like to hide your face amidst the sharp smells of newly printed books and clean sheets.

This love left unsaid has become an obsession that never fades or lets the heart live in peace. May be in the next life, you and I will not have all the words in the world to say why we don’t want each other in reality and might crumble in tears before the mighty silences.

Stories

The bliss ended years ago,
One fine day in March,
When beauty and brains,
Clashed with each other,
And you picked beauty.

What of a lovely mind?
I questioned you eagerly,
In my childish innocence,
I believed in every word,
Your lying tongue had said.

As the years went by,
Beauty reigned with brains,
Your heart was beaming again,
To make this love last, not,
To make excuses again.

This time, you schemed,
Taking days to work out,
The tiny details of your plan
That turned out to be
A castle in the air.

Beauty, brains, money,
What could make you happy?
Certainly not this broken life,
With you toiling everyday,
Far away from all loves.

For you have lost everything,
A soul of music now healed,
But I see life's bitter irony,
In your discarding all rules
To love what you'd mocked.

Less and More

You tease me as heartless,
I tease you as brainless.
This continual bantering lessen,
What was more in life before,
Aimlessness and hopelessness,
Many more sorts of -lessness.*
But this combo is more than being,
Heartless, lifeless and loveless,
As the bantering continues,
Day by day with more wit,
Energy, drive and spirit,
To find each other new epithets.
Still this world of less is more alive,
Than before the day I found you.

For my love on a nothing special day

Some days ago, I fell into a deep slumber,
From which I thought I would never rise again;
My limbs tied with some strange force,
My heart full of fears of the dark.

When I rose, terror flashed before me,
So did my love for you, my dearest,
What if you never know how I love you
More as days and weeks and months pass.

Memories of terror may flash again,
There is no restraining them,
Your love has been like an anchor,
A strong hold that I can depend on.

The words of anger may be a ruse,
For I know, you will be there always.

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go, quote Oscar Wilde

Sometimes, I see that life works perfectly if only all the people that you associate with on a daily basis are in harmony with you. Work-life can be in shatters, if you have somebody who irritates you with persistent negativity. Not just me, a lot of people have this habit of blaming others and circumstances for not being focused enough. But how much is enough?


I was just a sit-at-home graduate in English who wanted to work from home for a hobby. I started doing some content writing projects and daily blogging. Nowadays, I am swamped with so many projects that I have forgotten the already rare visits to the beauty parlour, the occasional evening walk (the accumulating fat will tell the rest of the story) and unfinished household chores.

If you see no posts in a place, where there were regular posts (even though they were not great, but readable) please take remember that this idle singer of daily life in the form of writing has become a multi-tasker engaged in her struggles with Good English.

Bad days

Shell

Meetings with no purpose,
Words with no meaning,
Promises unkept and broken,
Intentions no longer clear,
Everyday has such ruffles,
Brain-devouring carnivores,
Who stop not at tears or anger,
But only at killing the heart,
Till you learn the best way out,
To resist this energy drain,
Is to go back to your shell,
Keep respectful distance,
From all and not wielding power.
For who knows with all these rules,
You will die from plain exhaustion.

Dieting

The thin bodies of models
Tease from advertisements;
While I try walking, running
Skipping, skipping meals,
Doing whatever I can,
To get slim and sleek.

But the chocolate cake beckons,
From the nook at Spencer's
So does Crackle and Five Star;
Not to mention the ice-creams,
Fruit salads and carrot halwa.

When I see these delights,
All ideas of dieting lost,
The dream of a thin body,
Purged of its extra roundness,
Lost amidst bites of sweet,
Forgetfulness.

So I binge more on sweets,
Think of exercising tomorrow,
While days pass one by one,
The models tease from ads,
With their thin sleek bodies,
But they can't have such delights
The way I can live on sweets.

Madness

The pale hairy hands stretch from a white coat,
A falsely made happy face enquires about you,
Was it yesterday that you had screamed aloud,
Asked for euthanasia and that you want to die,
While he looked worried and showed you
Pictures of shapes and spaces and flowers
Describe this: You told him of Carl Gustav Jung,
About Freud and what you have read,
Anima and Animus and the theories meant,
The male creative spirit in the female,
The female creative spirit in the male,
The pictures that Jung used to treat people.

The doctor ordered the nurses to sedate you,
Till you remember nothing of Jung or Freud.

The victim of a mousetrap

"An Introduction" by Kamala Das

I don’t know politics but I know the names
Of those in power, and can repeat them like
Days of week, or names of months, beginning with Nehru.
I am Indian, very brown, born in Malabar,
I speak three languages, write in
Two, dream in one.
Don’t write in English, they said, English is
Not your mother-tongue. Why not leave
Me alone, critics, friends, visiting cousins,
Every one of you? Why not let me speak in
Any language I like? The language I speak,
Becomes mine, its distortions, its queernesses
All mine, mine alone.
It is half English, half Indian, funny perhaps, but it is honest,
It is as human as I am human, don’t
You see? It voices my joys, my longings, my
Hopes, and it is useful to me as cawing
Is to crows or roaring to the lions, it
Is human speech, the speech of the mind that is
Here and not there, a mind that sees and hears and
Is aware. Not the deaf, blind speech
Of trees in storm or of monsoon clouds or of rain or the
Incoherent mutterings of the blazing
Funeral pyre. I was child, and later they
Told me I grew, for I became tall, my limbs
Swelled and one or two places sprouted hair.
When I asked for love, not knowing what else to ask
For, he drew a youth of sixteen into the
Bedroom and closed the door, He did not beat me
But my sad woman-body felt so beaten.
The weight of my breasts and womb crushed me.
I shrank Pitifully.
Then … I wore a shirt and my
Brother’s trousers, cut my hair short and ignored
My womanliness. Dress in sarees, be girl
Be wife, they said. Be embroiderer, be cook,
Be a quarreller with servants. Fit in. Oh,
Belong, cried the categorizers. Don’t sit
On walls or peep in through our lace-draped windows.
Be Amy, or be Kamala. Or, better
Still, be Madhavikutty. It is time to
Choose a name, a role. Don’t play pretending games.
Don’t play at schizophrenia or be a
Nympho. Don’t cry embarrassingly loud when
Jilted in love … I met a man, loved him. Call
Him not by any name, he is every man
Who wants. a woman, just as I am every
Woman who seeks love. In him . . . the hungry haste
Of rivers, in me . . . the oceans’ tireless
Waiting. Who are you, I ask each and everyone,
The answer is, it is I. Anywhere and,
Everywhere, I see the one who calls himself I
In this world, he is tightly packed like the
Sword in its sheath. It is I who drink lonely
Drinks at twelve, midnight, in hotels of strange towns,
It is I who laugh, it is I who make love
And then, feel shame, it is I who lie dying
With a rattle in my throat. I am sinner,
I am saint. I am the beloved and the
Betrayed. I have no joys that are not yours, no
Aches which are not yours. I too call myself I.

Tribute to Kamala Suraiyya

I want to be loved
And
If love is not to be had,
I want to be dead; just dead. (Kamala Das)

Kamala Das aka Kamala Suraiyya aka Madhavikutty reigned in Malayalam literature like a queen. One of first feminist writers in India, she was a prolific writer who wrote both in English and in Malayalam. She died today after being hospitalised because of respiratory troubles. A tribute to her, this afternoon on hearing about her death.

You were brave enough to bare your soul,
When other women played with hypocrisy,
You dared to speak of things that mattered,
To a woman more than anything-love.

Your quests for love shadowed your stories,
Poems revealed the highs and lows of love,
True to the dictum that poetry is a song
From a broken heart or a smiling mouth.

Others followed the trail that you had set,
In a land swallowed by traditions and rules,
You broke all rules to follow your own heart,
Frank, straight and a trigger of controversies.

Mother, your words soar like the eagle you're,
Lone but high above in the clear blue skies.

An empty garden pond

One single waterlily
In pond can splash colours,
Make a huge difference.

New god-daughter

The Brilliant Girl

Recently I had the good fortune to take Communicative English classes for a group of 16 girls from a poor home. Most of them could hardly speak in English when they came and some of them who could speak English were scared of making mistakes. However with time, they picked up the nuts of bolts of Spoken English and managed to speak "a little" (their own words) English and that too without fear. It was a struggle to help them overcome their inhibitions and negativities; but they did emerge out of their coccoons. For the class farewell, they prepared a story line of a girl who is persecuted by everybody around her. But in my hands, the story acquired a slightly different colour- that of independence and self-reliance. Though quite long and of little higher standard for them, these girls did a good job on the final day, making me proud of them. I'm happy that such a small exercise improved their confidence by leaps and bounds! For you, my brilliant girls, THE BRILLIANT GIRL!

Scene 1 (Coordinator, The Principal, Merlin, Sania, Reshmi and the crowd)

(The scene is set in the auditorium of a reputed college in the city. There are several people seated on the dais. The principal, three students and a coordinator.)

Coordinator: Welcome dear teachers and students to this function felicitating a few of our brilliant students. We shall begin the function with a prayer song.

(A group of girls come and sing a devotional song.)

Coordinator: Thank you, girls, for the prayer song. Next we begin the official meeting. We are gathered here to announce an important landmark in the history of our college. According to the university, three of our students have secured very high marks in the first year exams. I cordially invite our Principal to say a few words about this achievement.

The Principal: Today is a happy day for our college. As you know, three of our students have achieved good results in the first year exam. I congratulate Merlin, Sania and Reshmi for scoring the highest marks in their subjects. But this is only the first year and we need consistent results until the final year. So I urge you to study well in the future as well. Congratulations and all the best for the future!

Coordinator: Next, I would like to invite the three students, Merlin, Sania and Reshmi for sharing their happiness with you.

Merlin: Respected Principal and teachers and my dear friends, first of all I would like to thank God for this blessing. The credit for this definitely goes to my teachers, family and friends who have always given their full support .I would like to thank the Principal, my teachers and friends on this occasion. Also, my mother who has worked hard to educate me.

(There is applause. A lot of people clap their hands while Sania and Reshmi do not move at all and mutter to each other)

Sania: Why does she have to be so good to all?
Reshmi: That's because she's no good at all.

Coordinator: Thank you Merlin for giving such a wonderful speech. Next I invite Sania, who is the daughter of Dr. Thomas, our PTA chairman to come and share the secrets of her success.

Sania: Dear Principal, Teachers and friends, I am happy to say that my hard work was not in vain. This high score is definitely a result of getting up so early for the tuitions. As you know it's difficult to study these days without tuitions. My parents have always given me the best tuition teachers in the city. I want to tell all of you to study hard and score high marks in the exams. Thank you. (There is hooting from the crowd, though some applause is also heard)

Coordinator: Thank you Sania. Next I invite Reshmi to come and give her speech.

Reshmi: Hello everybody, I want to say a few words about this victory. As most of you know, I studied abroad in Dubai during my school days (hooting from the crowd) and was exposed to learning methods quite unlike the methods in Kerala. It took some time for me to become friends with you all. The secret of my victory is my learning habit using the internet as a study tool. If you want to become a top-scorer, buy a computer and start learning using the internet. Thank you.

(The hooting is very loud.)

Coordinator: I offer my sincere thanks to the Principal, teachers and students. The meeting is concluded.

Scene 2 (The Principal, Reshmi, Sania, Peon and Gita)

Outside the Principal's office, Reshmi and Sania are waiting for the Principal to finish speaking to an office staff.

Reshmi: Why did you have to speak about your tuitions? That's why they hooted at us.
Sania: Oh your Dubai background was not that helpful either.

Principal: Check whether all applications are correct and signed by students. Then they are to be sealed with the college seal and with my signature seal. Also, some students can just submit the application because they have don't have to pay the fees. But you need to verify their backgrounds. Like Merlin for example, does not have to pay fees.

Office staff: Ok madam, I will check all the details.

Reshmi and Sania: Good morning, Madam.

The Principal: What is it girls?

Sania: Madam, we wanted to see you about something. Our parents were very happy that we had good scores in the exam. So they have sent cheques towards the PTA fund. Here is the cheque my father gave for 25000 rupees.

Reshmi: Madam, This is the cheque my mother sent for 30000 rupees.

The Principal: Tell your parents my sincere thanks for this gesture. We will utilise this for developing more facilities and for the education of poor girls.

Reshmi: Madam, is it true that Merlin does not pay fees?

The Principal: Oh you overheard my conversation with Gita. Yes, that's true. Her father passed away last year and her mother is ill.

Sania: Ill, madam? She's working in a textiles shop in the city. I have seen her once outside the college gate, waiting for Merlin. I know her because they stay very near to our house.

The Principal: Are you sure Sania, it's the same person? Because it was only last week, Merlin came and asked for exemption from fees because her mother had an accident.

Reshmi: Then, madam, she must have had her accident recently. But Merlin's not that poor.
The Principal: What are you saying Reshmi? Are you trying to mislead me?

Sania: Madam, we are sorry. But our parents will send more money next year. May we leave now?

The Principal: Wait. Gita, bring Merlin’s admission form.

Gita: (goes to a cupboard and takes out a sheet of paper) Yes madam, here it is. She had first rank in SSLC.

Gita: The Principal: No about her income.

Gita: Her father was in the government service. He died last year. Her mother works in a textile shop as a salesperson. Income is given as 5000 per month.

The Principal: Ok, girls, now you can go. You might be right. I need to check whether her story is true or not.

(The girls leave. Presses a button and peon comes)

The Principal: Ask Merlin to come and see me.

Scene 3
(Merlin, the Principal)

Merlin: (knocks at the door) Good Morning madam. Did you ask for me?

The Principal: Yes, Merlin. I wanted to know a few things about you. Last week, you came and requested for fee exemption. But on checking your admission form, it was found that your father was in the government service and that your mother is working in a textile shop; while what you told me was that your mother was ill.

Merlin: (shocked) Madam, it's true that my father was a government servant and that we will get pension. But we have not got pension, though it's a year after his death. Mother had an accident last month and we require a lot of money for her treatment.

The Principal: You can borrow from somebody and give it back when the pension comes. Where do you live, Merlin?

Merlin: We live in PTP Nagar near Sania's house.

The Principal: You can be exempted from fees only if you get a letter of recommendation from the PTA Chairman.

Merlin: Dr. Thomas? Sania's father? Yes, madam, I request him for a letter of recommendation.

The Principal: If you do not bring the letter tomorrow; you will not be able to write the exams.
Merlin: Yes, madam.

Scene 4

Merlin's home (Amma, Merlin)

Amma: Oh you are home? Renu wanted to see you. It's her birthday and she brought some payasam with her. It's on the table.

Merlin: yeah.

Amma: What happened Merlin? Yesterday you were so happy about your high marks. What happened to you?

Merlin: Nothing, Amma. Just feeling a little tired.

Amma: That's because you work hard at home and at college. Take rest and after that go and see Renu.

Merlin: I will drink the payasam later. I will wish Renu and come.

Scene 5

Renu's house (Renu, Merlin)

Merlin: (rings the bell)I hope she likes this present.

Renu: Come in, Merlin.

Merlin: (hugs Renu) Happy Birthday, Renu.

Renu: Thanks dear. I'm glad that you remembered. Why were you late today? I came to see you an hour ago.

Merlin: What to say, Renu? Something bad happened to me today. The Principal has asked me pay the examination fees because she thinks I'm not poor.

Renu: But you are not poor, Merlin.

Merlin: Exactly dear. I didn't want to worry Amma. So I went and asked the Principal for a fee exemption. She had agreed but later she asked for a letter of recommendation from Dr. Thomas as proof.

Renu: Dr. Thomas? You mean the doctor who's treating your Amma?

Merlin: I went to see him but it was Sania who answered the door. She said her father has gone for a conference in Delhi. I told her that I wanted a letter of recommendation and she said he won’t be back until next Friday.

Renu: She must be lying.

Merlin: Even I thought so.

Renu: What will you do now? You know that Ravi is saving money to marry us off. It's bad to be born a girl when you are a burden to your parents.

Merlin: I was thinking about going for work at Alappat.

Renu: What? You see Merlin, I am not intelligent like you but I think you should not stop your studies. What will happen to your dream of becoming an IAS officer?

Merlin: That will remain a dream. There is nobody whom I can borrow money from.

Renu: You won so many medals in tenth and twelfth. Now you are thinking of leaving studies? What's with you, Merlin?

Merlin: Oh my god! That reminds me of something. I have that gold medal I got from Sastra Sahitya Parishad for highest scores in SSLC. I will sell that.

Renu: Are you going to sell that?

Merlin: What use does it have anyway? I did not tell Amma because it will worry her and make her more ill.

Renu: Ok, I will come with you now.

Scene 6
College. A crowd of girls are waiting in a queue outside the office. Sania and Reshmi come and stand in the queue. They see Merlin who has already paid the fees and is walking towards her class.

Sania: Merlin?
Merlin: Yes, what is it, Sania?

Sania: Did you get a letter of recommendation?
Reshmi: Are you writing the exam or are you going to work in a shop?

Merlin: Why do you want to know Sania? Did your father suddenly come back from Delhi last night? I met him at the grocer’s this morning.

Sania: Yeah, he had to come back soon.
Merlin: That’s OK, Sania. Thanks for the concern.

Scene 7
Merlin’s home (Merlin, Students, Amma and Renu)
Merlin is teaching a group of students. They are singing nursery rhymes.

Merlin: Children, That’s all for today. You can go home now.
Students: Thank you teacher.

They give her money as they go and she counts them.
Merlin goes inside and talks to her mother.

Merlin: Amma, I got 3000 rupees from this month’s tuition. That’s enough for running the household expenses.

Amma: Oh Merlin. That’s more than enough. Now I can go back to work from next month.
Merlin: But the happiest news was when the Principal announced a merit scholarship for completing education yesterday. You should have seen the crowd and the applause.

Amma: I’m so happy, Merlin. You have worked hard. That’s why. Above all, you are earning from the tuitions as well. You can stop them once I get back to work. Dr. Thomas said that I was getting better and better.

Merlin: No Amma. I learned how to earn by myself, how to earn while I learn. So I’m sure that this income will make me independent and confident in the future.

Renu comes in.
Amma: Hello Renu, where were you?

Renu: I was at work, Aunty. Now seeing Merlin work so hard, I told my mother to let me go for work. So I got a job in a DTP Centre because I have learnt computer and typing.

Merlin: That’s the spirit, Renu. Are you coming with me to buy a blackboard for my students?
Renu: Oh you got your money?

Merlin: Yes and a scholarship for complete education as well. I want a board so that I can take bigger classes at home.
Renu: You are sure a brilliant girl.
Amma: Both of you are brilliant and independent as well.

Garden flowers

Mouse in the mousetrap

Mousetrap

To err is human; but to laugh is natural!

Once in a while, as an English teacher and learner, I encounter certain errors in usage. It's not normal to hide your mirth when somebody says: I passed away in 2004" when the right sentence should be "I passed out in 2004".

Still, students are students. The inspiration for this article came from a test that I gave my students today. They were asked to write the meaning of the word "greasy" and use it in a sentence.

Well, they did and three of them put their heads together in spite of my strict vigilance. The result was a rare gem.The three answers went like this:

Ramu is a greasy man.
He is a greasy man.
Ravi is a greasy man.

How did all these guys become greasy? Well,I saw that one of them has written the meaning of greasy as " Helpful"!

Word addiction

You may find it amusing but sometimes while having food alone, I find myself reaching for the pickle jar; so that I can read the information on the label. It's not that I don't know what's in the pickle; I guess it's a habit or rather an addiction to printed words.

This might extend to the information on creams, food products, cleaning solutions, toothpastes and so on. On some print-deprived days, there is a longing to read something strange, something new and pleasant. These are the days on which I set forth in the blogosphere for interesting reads and stumble across some good blog like that of Swapna. 

For a lost friend

A green-dot on my screen,
Dribbles my heart with pain,
Remembering a lost lifeline.

Focus, focus, focus

The snap of a cow taken in jest. My folks teased me about being snap-crazy. So this one, I took while on a trip home.

To a Lost Self

Like a strain of music, long forgotten,
You were lost somewhere along the way.
The song that you were faded in memory,
Only to resurface all on a sudden.

That song that you sang so beautifully,
How you could make a garland with tears,
With songs and tie it around my neck,
Suddenly played upon my lips unaware.

You and me were strange and unique,
Who were happy just by being together;
We could gaze into each other's eyes,
For hours and still be happy.

Now that years have passed after the song,
Even I know how to tie garlands with tears.

Home

My home comes to me as an image,
Mauve-coloured walls, clean floor,
A dream that we all built together,
With prayers and with lots of effort.

It lost its value only because of me,
One erring step of mine crumbled.
The beautiful interiors, sunlit walls,
Floors of white remain unexposed,

Often I think about unlocking it,
Just to wander through its space,
A sacred space, mine, ours, yours,
Now remains locked to all eyes.

The day of your rescue isn’t far,
When time will heal all rifts.

2 a.m.

The hospital smells of disinfectants.
Outside the ICU, a watchful crowd,
Waits on the chairs and on floor,
Crouched on bedsheets.

They watch the door, open and close,
Every time, as the duty nurses,
Whisper the news of change-
Death or recovery or medicine.

Each time, the ears listen,
Sleeping men and women,
Sit up and listen to the name,
The nurses utter this time.

This time, the nurse walks,
Towards a dark frail girl,
Sitting for days together,
In her crumpled pale sari.

She screams "Amma"
Falls to the ground weeping,
As her father mourns quietly,
Her sobs shake her body.

Now and then she screams,
Utters the word "Amma",
Looks up with swollen eyes,
For the approach of more news.

The stretcher is rolled out,
From the ICU, by staff,
Her sobs grow loud and wild
At the sight of her dead mother.

For days, she had sat outside,
Meeting her mother twice a day,
Three minutes at a time,
Her sobs are muted by tiredness.

The eyes, where life flickered
And love shone is still and closed.
Denied a word with parting spirit,
She retreats into a blank silence.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the approbation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty; To find the best in others; To give of one's self; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived - This is to have succeeded.

Meditation

What wonders have time brought, All at my window. The numbers keep changing, Every day new life springs, Out of old ways of thought. Oneness with the universe, With a thousand kindred souls, Spread across the earth, Space and time and universe. Sitting before my gizmo, I wander with delight, Through snow-covered landscapes, Gather in my curious hands Sheaves of snow-sprinkled wheat. A bird spreading its wings, The earth from space or a tiny flower A thousand scented candles- All new ways of bringing me back, To my centre, my self- All at my window. 

On the death of the Beloved

By John O’Donohue

Though we need to weep your loss, 
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts, 
Where no storm or night or pain can reach you.

Your love was like the dawn
Brightening over our lives
Awakening beneath the dark
A further adventure of colour.

The sound of your voice
Found for us
A new music
That brightened everything.

Whatever you enfolded in your gaze
Quickened in the joy of its being; 
You placed smiles like flowers
On the altar of the heart. 
Your mind always sparkled 
With wonder at things.

Though your days here were brief, 
Your spirit was live, awake, complete.

We look towards each other no longer
From the old distance of our names; 
Now you dwell inside the rhythm of breath, 
As close to us as we are to ourselves.

Though we cannot see you with outward eyes, 
We know our soul’s gaze is upon your face, 
Smiling back at us from within everything
To which we bring our best refinement.

Let us not look for you only in memory, 
Where we would grow lonely without you. 
You would want us to find you in presence, 
Beside us when beauty brightens, 
When kindness glows
And music echoes eternal tones.

When orchids brighten the earth, 
Darkest winter has turned to spring; 
May this dark grief flower with hope
In every heart that loves you.

May you continue to inspire us:

To enter each day with a generous heart. 
To serve the call of courage and love
Until we see your beautiful face again
In that land where there is no more separation, 
Where all tears will be wiped from our mind, 
And where we will never lose you again.

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 

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!

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. 

My alma mater

Mar Ivanios College, Trivandrum

Veritas liberabit vos

Truth shall liberate you, 

My college for seven long years. 

April 22: Earth day

EARTH DAY 

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

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

Time

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

Rose

Rose

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 

Perspective

Irony

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

Happy Vishu!

Yellow flowers of prosperity

Rain

A wall collapsed in rain,
That stood between us,
You and me, now one.

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.