Thanksgiving

How do I thank thee? History in black and white
Is now colourful. While historians were busy
digging an empty hole, you dug a dry land
to find the invisible without letting it glide over.

Discovered, the invisible became a torrent.
Not many can do what you did, read the thanksgiving.
A woman alone surpassing the under currents
so fierce, so powerful yet foul minds to defeat a lady 
who's determined and blessed by a force more powerful 
than Niagara's falls.
The folded hands kept either sides 
With a feigned face reminds me of
a cat, after hours of good sleep and bowls of good food
turn furious with a single whip! Or is it the face of a contestant 
seeking votes? No, their look is fair!

Synonyms of ingratitude encircle the invisible
Some of them just wait for a stage to show
their weird faces, don't they realise they can be
the clowns of the show ?

Some floating figures, toss as the wind goes.
Thanks for the invisible, the chorus said.
I just murmured, dare you say without meaning it,
prove, if you are not effeminate and lady-like.




A Pair of Effeminate Legs

His legs are streaky, his thoughts are bigoted,

His words are sugary, insincere, only frictional.

He's dramatic, thinks he's capable of creating 

An impact wave, the waves fail to hit the shore.

 Thinks himself as an intellectual, imposes himself
 
with the blunt sword made of mud

 upon the poor folk.

Highly ungrateful, floats around trying to pocket

people he thinks he needs, sings songs of praise

While it becomes burial songs to true hearts.

If someone asks me to name him, I would only

call him as Mr. Hypocrite!  

Dunes

Up the ladder of thoughts,
Steep through the steps of dreams,
Walked I trembling to grab a grip.
The poles of the desert waving
while grinning, foreshadowed to be stagnant.
Sirocco! Those heads within the dancing
dunes whistled passing over my destiny!

Sudden, I hear nature's music!
Gentle and undefiled, I felt tears in the
corners of my eyes,ethereal,mournful chimes,
made my heart pounce, who heard the thud?
The disappeared heads, who saw the blades of grass?

Resumption towards tropical forests!
Evergreen not dense though, I grew tall.
Those towering trees without shading the sunlight
spread into branches of broad leaves. 
Thick barked, nature kept me safe from
the cold waves, erosion and the huge fall!

Mud-Spattered Mind

Do I fit in a frame when intellectuals are caught?

Can I stammer some sense where orators outwit?

Can I learn the art of being wise from the learned?

Can I speak what I see fearless of what I lose?

Can I be deaf to stupidity, natural nonsense?

Do I turn deaf and blind towards artificial intelligence?

Perhaps I do, that’s why I am fearless and friendless…

Confused though I am, my brain and my mind

takes me to the point of matchless virtue, HUMANITY…

SCRIBBLED NOTE(Prose Poem)

Induction of thoughts in the benthic

Pursuit of emancipation, notes scribbled

hid in a woven nest, misted with Arabian perfume.

Virile, the barometer of self satisfaction.

Dusted, I took out the fresh page of my torn book.

Pristine, bruised I smelt it, on turning further

Staggered a little, to espy the still anew faded white

pages of my adulthood. Unsure what to add, I grabbed my pen.

With the blue ink, I scribbled again. Yet another page,

Shaded, but afresh!

Dance of a Phoenix

 No mythical bird,
No trace in Greek legends,
An eagle, not of Arabia.
Her beak sealed, legs tied,
Wings broken,eyes pierced,
Towards the pyre, a clap of wings.
A nimbus invisible, illuminating,
She, a sapphire and Sun.
Resurrected,another clap of wings.
Beak unsealed, legs freed,
Blue eyes igniting Him.
 Exceptional she, like a Peacock
Danced with a leg, time, the ONLY witness!

Arun Joshi and His Strange Billy

_ I swear, Billy makes my eyes well up every time I think of him.

Published in 1971, Arun Joshi’s The Strange Case of Billy Biswas is worth your time, soul and conscious. Having read it for the fifth time and feeling Billy, feeling for Billy very often without further reading, let me confess, Billy is one of the rarest character created ever by a novelist. Few in-completions in the novel, yes, but the character of the protagonist,Billy is more or less complete. Created then, it has all the quint essentials of the modern century’s most discussed, thought about subjects . Racism, Romance, Humour, Friendship, Politics, all in one plus one of the few characters I have read who does justice to himself forgoing his family, his social network realising what actually he wanted to do, where exactly he belongs to.

Billy Biswas, the US based(Harlem, for reasons he explains) Anthropologist returns to his homeland in Central India having sensed his intuitions without letting anyone to intrude, without expecting anybody to understand him. Young and rich, he chooses to live a tribal life in the Saal forests, leaving behind his family, creating an impression of being killed by a Tiger. All he chased throughout was the meaning of things which he see through, hear through, clear and well-defined. There could be a question on his sense of moral responsibilities towards his wife and son, but as he himself explains to Romi, his friend, on questioning,

‘ But don’t you think you had responsibilities towards her, towards your son?’

‘ I have greater responsibilities towards my soul!’

The way he looked at the Whites of America, his own super rich Father who’s a supreme court judge, his wife Meena who’s after money, what friendship actually meant to him , his views on Justice and Politics are specimens of what we see around. Being one among the aristocratic, rich class of Delhi, his mind and soul always was with the ordinary, uncivilised tribals of central India. He dreamt different, thought different, dressed different, spoke and smiled different, acted different and hence became ‘Strange.’ The way Joshi explains Billy’s eyes and his grin, I swear again, anybody would fall for him. ‘Hello old chap,’ the way he greeted Romi remains at the tip of the reader’s tongue and later gets deposited into their minds as a fixed one.

The second half of the novel is sensational as the novelist explains the commotions surrounding Billy’s disappearance, how he reacts to the call from within, from Nature. Hair raising illustration of the Tribal woman, Bilasia who becomes Billy’s wife this life as she was in the previous, a lot of beliefs around superstitions, how Billy happens to meet Romi, the collector, in the collector’s bungalow, ten years after his disappearance, his justifications and explanations for his actions, the metamorphosis the Doctor Anthropologist undergoes, are wonderful illustrations to be remembered forever.

New definitions to the word friendship is sought towards the concluding chapters. Even after Billy asks Romi not to reveal about his presence to anybody including his very family, circumstances pull Romi to act otherwise and as Billy warned, what havoc it created with his life there! Billy’s father, with all his political influence tries to find Billy out through his civil servant friend, Romi, and Romi resists and hesitates. Soon things go beyond his control and the search for Billy Biswas turns to a man-hunt.

Bilasia’s questions to Romi and his answer less face haunts a true reader. The terrified face of Billy’s younger son and the intelligent, the shrewd face of Billy’s elder son with a hint that he would become like his father is a positive note before the novel ends. As Billy meets with the inevitable end, the emotional heart of the reader too floods up.

A character complete in almost all the senses, I often wonder about another possible end to the novel. Perhaps, that end could satisfy the soul of an ordinary reader, not the elite. Billy with his strangeness has become a part of my sensible thought. Hope he becomes a member of yours too, if you let… Have a read.

Winding Wind

Whirls, befalling the shrubs
 The desert borne heavy 
Crushing it to micelles of twigs 
 Biffing vigorous onto dunes.
 Crust decked with dots
Red and Black not a yellow patch.
Thuds, rips, bang and buzz
 A whirlwind shaping into a Tornado
 Ides of March, dubious me
 The tip of a finger pointing
For me, towards me, I wish.

Calm Down, Dear Sea…

The surfing sound crashing the walls
of my turbulent mind roared quite silent.
The hollow of the wall thus seen, 
Had a life within, breathing still 
battling for its existence. The Sea God
violent and stormy mended its currents,
circle  at the very heart, hitting my wall time and again.
Eroded, the thick walls of my mind,
merged in the salty sea of tears,
Aged further with the weight of ache.
Strong, stronger and the heavier
when weighed, will you calm down, 
just not to let the world laugh? 

Unwinding Temples: Kadampuzha Devi Temple.

South India’s temples unveil a lot of history for sure, they also unmask a lot of unheard, untold stories taking any devotee by surprise and stunned by the spectrum of their own little knowledge. They are enticing places anyone would love to visit . While the temple series continues, here is another Goddess temple, situated in Malappuram district of Kerala, Kadampuzha. One of the huge(within) temple structure one would witness, Goddess Parvathy is omnipresent in every atom of the ambience that she would appear right in front of your eyes whenever you fondly remember her.

What makes the temple different from other temples is the absence of an idol of the main deity. There’s a hole which is created by the mighty arrow of Lord Shiva which he shot in order to summon Ganga for quenching Parvathy’s thirst. Adi Shankara perceived it to be the source of immense power and hence advised not to have an idol. Only an arch like structure is kept on top and sometimes a shield for devotees’ reference. Shankaracharya built the temple according to Shastra, on the stone right in front of this he perceived the divine presence of Lord Shiva.Narasimha Moorthy, Sudarshan Chakra, Naaga Kanya and Shasta are worshipped at the temple.

The origin of the temple dates back to the Third Parva/Vana Parva of Mahabharata. As per Krishna’s advise Arjuna went to seek the knowledge of celestial missiles/ divine astras. In order to obtain Pashupathastra from his Lord Pashupati, Arjuna started severe penance at the foothills of Himalayas. Seeing the intensity of his penance, Lord Shiva and Parvathi wanted to test Arjuna’s loyalty. They transformed themselves into Kirata king and wife. Though Shiva was happy at his disciple’s intense devotion, he wanted to shed the ego away from Arjuna which otherwise his Lord knew would hinder him from attaining greatness by the possession of Pashupatastra.

Meanwhile, Mookasur, a demon was on his mission to kill Arjuna on the instructions of his master, Duryodhan. Disguising himself into a wild boar, he charged towards the meditating Arjuna. The warrior instinct in him took charge and in a fraction of second he opened his eyes to pierce the wild boar with his arrow through its mouth. The kirata king too let loose an arrow to kill the wild boar which pierced through its hindquarters. There arose an argument between the two mighty warriors whose arrow was the cause for the animal’s death. The kirata king acted annoyed and he started prodding Arjuna into a fight. Arjuna wanted to avoid fight with a silly man, but the kirata king went to the extent of abusing Arjuna’s brothers, mother, wife and also his Lord, Shiva. Arjuna now found it hard to restrain himself and a terrible fight ensued.

Parvathy, who was a silent spectator till now, started getting worried every passing moment looking at the ferocity of the fight. She ran to each to stop them foreseeing the end with one getting grievously hurt. She knew, if her Lord gets really angry, no force can withstand his wrath. When her efforts to dissuade Arjuna from the fight failed, she turned the arrows of Arjuna into flowers(jungle geranium). Bewildered though, Arjuna, the unmatched warrior, started shaping arrows of the flowers. Each flower, multiplied by thousands, within no time Shiva was completely covered with flowers. Arjuna then tried attacking his enemy with his bow, but that too was snatched away from him by the kirata king.

Without any weapons left, Arjuna started punching his enemy with his bare hands.But the kirata king flung him to a great height soon to come crashing down the earth. Arjuna finally realised that his enemy is no ordinary being and he was humbled. He understood what the wife of kiata king was trying to tell him. Filled with deep anguish and being remorseful he prostrated at the feet of his beloved Lord. The couple then bestowed Arjuna with boons and also with Pashupatastra after imparting its knowledge.

Before returning to Kailas, Parvathy requested for some water to quench her thirst. Shiva then shot an arrow to the earth to summon Ganga. Parvathy then requested her Lord that the place they were then to be known as her place where whatever boons will be granted to those who come beseeching with a pure heart. She also requested her Lord to make his presence felt in a stone before her. The same place when Shankaracharya, Goddess’s own son gave a definite shape, became the land of supreme devotion.

The main offering here is Muttarukkal(cut away the obstacles). The devotee gives a coconut after removing its husk to the priest with the devotee’s name and birth star in Malayalam. The priest in turn breaks the coconut in front of the deity. If the coconut breaks evenly it’s believed that the obstacle is cut and if it breaks unevenly, the devotee is asked to bring another and the process is repeated until it breaks evenly. Trust me, between 5 a.m. and 11 a.m. the goddess has a feast of coconuts! I swear, stand before her with your mind devoid of all distractions, your wish is done!

Also free your mind from ego, be a child seeking knowledge, affection, love and care from its mother, the Universal Mother, who knows nothing but love her children, will definitely hold your little finger.