Words Few, Quotes Many- I






Into the Shades

Those murky sheets of grass blankets
Whose lap I gazed at the heights of the blue
Whom I whispered my sorrowful mirth
Who cradled  the immature d mind in me.
Growing with You, I fell in love with
The the green velvet cloak you wore sometimes
And sometimes yellow, the dusky shade of your skin
The lean coniferous canopy bed you made 
Under the shade of which you made me sleep
When sick and distressed, the crimson Sun's 
Orange shades you  thew in to drape my dusky body
That brook with which you glittered my pale garb
The songbirds that rejoiced and wept with me
That sand bed which nursed my soft feet
Where I learnt to walk, holding your long fingers
That long  silent conversations  and the long laughter
All of you  I ache for, take me into your shades....

On Regaining Myself, Every time

Don’t you all lose yourself? I know, you do, but do you remain lost? No, you pull yourself up, every time to get going. The thought of the demotivating/discouraging itself becomes so digressing, to me,to you. Pulling up myself every time in expectation of something good has kinda stopped doing its spell on me. Why every thing seem stagnant, without its circle moving a bit? What is that good I dreamt of?Perhaps, the good times in store, the better days on my fortune wheel that indicates me to be a part of every mega event.

There’s fog on my head, rather my brain. Days ahead had been the question, has been the question and would continue to be the question. Many a times I thank God for not being born as a New Gen Lady, on social, political and moral grounds I believe I can’t get along with their ideas. Well, getting along seems possible, but not taking in those stuff. But I, for sure envy them and sometimes gaze at the exposure today’s Gen gets. That way, I wish a part of me could have been born to be called their contemporaries.

Why wasn’t it possible for me to understand my strengths as today’s children do? I recognise my strong points, but why is that I can’t explore avenues where I am strong? Desires should change way to actions. Actions need a dare and consolidated mind. Is that what I lack? Would a self-realisation at this point of life, time, actually help solve the problem? I sincerely wish I could.

Every time, I lose,I regain, on my own. As people around say, signs of a strong, bold woman.I too will make a mark, sooner or later was the single thought that kept me going. When the whole world is having light moments, as an ice breaker, I am right in front of this white screen, expecting my fine days ahead! And I regain, perhaps when I understand the ultimate reality. But tell me, don’t I deserve a shoulder?

Thrissur Pooram: A True Wonder

A visual treat drawing masses from the nooks of the world, Pooram , hosted by Kerala’s cultural capital, Thrissur is really a wonder, the visual impact of which stays with the viewer forever. A land of many temples, Kerala has one of its kind in Thrissur too, Sri Vadakumnatha Temple, the main deity of which is Lord Shiva.The conceptual designer of the festival is Shakthan Thampuran, the Maha Raja of Kochi , who organized Pooram on an experimental basis bringing ten temples around Thrissivaperur(previous name of Thrissur, which means the land of Lord Shiva) together in participation. Of ten, only two temples are stakeholders of Pooram today, Paramekavu Bhagavathi Temple and Thiruvambadi Sri Krishna Temple. It’s said that annually these deities pay a visit to Lord Vadakumnatha on Pooram star of malayalam month, Medam.

As a native of Thrissur and also as a curious child, I well remember how my father refused to take us along with him for fear of the crowd. Like a bride, the entire town gets ready for the festival in the month of April- May(Medam, the malayalam month)though preparations begin long before. Tourists reserve resorts and restaurants months before and natives too reserve places weeks before just to ensure a better view. If a native plan to visit the venue on those three days, that’s going to be another Herculean task.

Into the highlights of the Festival:

Venue: Thekkinkadu Maidanam, just a kilo meter away from Thrissur railway station.

Major attractions: Extravagantly and royally decked up elephants, about 120 of them, for Kudamattam.Kudamattam is the rhythmic exchange of brightly decorated , totally anew and caparisoned parasols, where the two temples compete to show off their innovative ideas in displaying parasols. Accompanying percussion artists with Chenda, Ilathalam, Kombu, Kuzhal(traditional percussion instruments) support them, with Melam. For kudamattam, the two sets troops from these temples enter the Vadakumnathan temple through the western gate and exit by the eastern gate.

Ilanjithara Melam: During his times, my father, who had a craze for elephants and percussion music, would never miss this! A big troop of percussion artists perform in front of huge number of followers under the Ilanji tree(bullet wood tree) of Vadakumnatha temple’s courtyard. The varied rhythms of those instruments would make anybody go crazy, my father would say.

If you have plans, the Cochin International Airport is at hardly an hour’s distance…even after Pooram, there is an exhibition organised by the Kerala Tourism Development Corporation, near the Town Hall. You can visit Shakthan Thampuran Museum, which is under the archaeological department. On May 2 of 2020, people around would definitely miss that festive ambience, for next year even you may plan for a trip.


Times when I wandered in the meadows,
Chasing ducks and picking eggs,
Playing in orchards, plucking cashews,
Picking tender mangoes and collecting coffee beans.

Times when I placed myself on top of the world,
Daydreamed of a fabulous future,
 Ignorant of the material truth,that some lives on earth;
Are destined to be perturbed.

Times when I envisaged the image of an alluring girl ,
Getting soaked in the showers of overnight love,
Unconscious of the universal truth, that ,
Bathing in love and falling in love just happen;

To luckiest souls, and I refused to grew up !
Dipped in fancy shades of  love, the immature d girl in me ,
Metamorphosis ed into a nymph,
Graceful,  brilliant, yet longing for her soulmate.

Is It All about Daisy?

April 19, 2020. Today is daisy’s birthday, thought I should convey my greetings to daisy very early in the morning, though I was almost sure that wouldn’t be possible. You know the reason! Daisy always speak of the promises to be kept and the vows to be repeated and so do I… Though I don’t blurt it out, I too am well aware that I am the integral part of the chain of promises that encircle me every second and makes me go shapeless. Again thought, I would ask daisy to be away from that circle of commitments for a few minutes, so that I can convey my wishes. Plus I can listen to one of those not-so-sweet songs, rather the masculine, deep pitched voice when daisy sings. Nothing being done so far, I feel so depressed and helpless.

I know you might be thinking why is it that I can’t drop a message. Mm mm, no way, that’s a road not be taken, and me, just following the advise of daisy, my senior citizen.Actually, it depresses me. You know, sometimes I want daisy to miss me. It says it does, today at least I wish, it had reduced my quarantine time and I could amuse my daisy. It’s been so long we had an easy, lovely sort of a conversation, but once, just to keep us happy. Lockdown is getting into my nerves, you know…

I had plans for today. I very well remember how I shell-shocked daisy last year with a bunch of surprises. Early morning, as I was returning from the temple procession, I had phoned daisy who was spellbound at my dare move. Having enjoyed that situation, also that I enjoy daisy to be in a fix 😜,I wanted to experiment something different this year, as they were ideas drawn in water, couldn’t be fulfilled. On my day, daisy too had planned to surprise me, but as daisy can’t execute plans well, I won that game of thorns.

Yeah, today, it’s all about daisy…everyone says life is all about surprises, hope it surprises me, someday, somehow. The day is almost on its fall. Wait for another year is to begin from tomorrow, but if it turns out to be meaningless again, what end shall I dream of? When I wind up this junk, without knowing what exactly to write, I keep a watch on the time too, it’s 06. 15 pm, IST, desperately wishing my phone to vibrate. Unfortunately, it don’t…not only today, ever…

April’s Own Daisy

The daisy, autumn gifted me long before,
Was devoid of fragrance and charm,
Yet, fresh in color and luminous in its guise.

Placing my daisy on the single vase I had,
I nurtured it with great love and closeness.
Spake to it, it often didn't...

Loosing its kingdom, daisy sounded gloomy.
Days later, daisy smiled, but in pieces,
Reminding me of its vows to be undertaken.
My Daisy
I let daisy go, letting it to stick by the promises,
Took on while young, holding on still.

Sensing my soul, daisy turned lovable and aromatic,
More and more and in tons and tons!
Seasons many and troth many...

A singing little bird like, daisy flies in and goes away,
Taking all my  holy breath away until back again.

A single sight  of my daisy is all that makes me gleeful,
A handful of moments is all that I wish for.
Heaven let us live together once and continually.

Another April and here's my sole wish,
To greet my daisy A HAPPY BIRTHDAY,
With a bunch of red daisy flowers!



My Kitchen Garden

Farming, though not on a large scale, muse every rural Indian, in its true sense. Being born in family where farming was a subsidiary occupation, I wanted to initiate myself into it, at least on a micro level. As I don’t reside in a metro-city, I usually get fresh, local, organic vegetables.My vegetable vendor charges exorbitant rates for his organic stuff, which is four-fold higher than the market rate. A 500 rupee note could hardly buy a week’s vegetables. While thinking of an alternative, I thought of making few alterations to my yard in a way to accommodate grow bags. Amazon was kind enough to supply those Eco-friendly grow bags within a week. With the help of an outdoor assistant, I could arrange for two small trucks of red soil , filled those mighty bags with them, placed it on my front and back yards under better sunlight. As the idea of a kitchen garden had sprouted in my mind before itself, I had brought better quality seeds from my native town.

A week later, Amaranthus seedlings raised its numerous heads from different sides, seedlings of Ladies Finger, Brinjal, Ginger, Coriander leaves, Pumpkin, Ash Gourd, Green Chilli, Papaya plants, Tulsi plants, ( not a vegetable,though), Banana plants of different types , gradually became my cute,little friends. I don’t use chemical sprays or any readily available insecticides for my tiny garden.Soaked tobacco leaf water mixed with camphor which I prepare on my own, is the only pesticide I use. Vermi- Compost is the only manure with which I treat them. Although small, I don’t have to depend on the vegetable vendor for all the stuff. I talk to those plants and its tender fruits on early mornings and on late evenings and believe me, they turned out to be my great quarantine friends. True friends I mean, for I could rely on them during lock down.

My Fluffy Blanket

She hid my distress to herself,
Consoled my grieving heart while I wept,
Soaked in my tears with her warm,coarse hands,
Sheltered my dreams under her angelic wings,
Fenced my dull, dark-some days and nights,
Shielded my worries when aggravated,
Fended me while I was sick,
Safeguarded my fanciful fantasies;
About the man of my dreams,
She chuckled with me when I did,
Vowed to canopy our nights together;
Concealed from the world and cradle 
My tender emotions,
            Safe, unhurt and intact.