"The way the ball bounces.........."

As far as my memory can go, I remember being welcomed into the homes of my relatives and kin’s. I made Mumbai my primary domain only from 2003, till then I was a regular visitor, or rather a regular guest. Before 2003, I visited Mumbai during my school holidays for roughly 2-3 days, where I stayed at my aunt’s place. The visit was hectic, with many places to visit and time so regulated and limited. Every relative missed no chance to pour out their sorrows eying the hard earned money that my father parted with ease. The most memorable of the visit was the journey. Before Netravati, the only way of coming to Mumbai was through the Kanyakumari Express (Jayanti Janta), a 2 day journey. The train initially soared through the urbanized (though moderate) cities of Kerala, then through the nature blessed mountains of Palakad, a border town of Kerala, before going through various other states. The train used to be buzzing with life, crippled children sweeping the floors, poverty stricken chil...

Working on this new work, "If i ever go to meet my maker". Hope to publish it soon...really feeling good about this particular work.

Seek no path beyond, Spare no words of praise, I serve the saint of friendship, walk around the souls of trust.

I climbed the stairs of perpetual reality, To find her leading the way, Her lure drew the pull in me, I trailed the golden path without a query. She showed me those early days, Days where play and fun prevailed antagonistic struggle for victory, Days where I cried to earn love, Days where I laughed at being touched. The golden path, she said, led to divinity, I breathe the air of purity, Saw my deeds being blessed, Soon I forgot to count the sin that I committed. The path then showed me my teens, Where I learnt the toughest word, Love, I dreamt, lived, and shared this knowledge, To find that teachers never get their share of praise. Then I saw her, she now led the way, Her charisma bought tears, Her smile bought me close to eternity, Her presence made me redraw the Vitruvian. She departed for the lands unknown, I vowed to unite soon, To be with her among the valleys of paradise, The ecstasy I yearned fortified my desire. Errands to be run, delayed my ascen...

I prayed for mercy before the almighty, His silhouette stared back at me, Helpless were his hands, The human creation bowed down before me. His houses everywhere, Demons and gods, All housed in the same shrine, I peeped in for help, despair. I slit across the vein that held my breath, The pain drenched my hopes, I implored for relief, For a moment, I hesitated, because, her, I was not yet ready to die. Memoirs of days gone, brought a smile, In the dead of the night, this wasn’t early, The gaffe, I regret, but none could be done, Because death couldn’t wait for me.

Dont remember when i wrote this, but somewhere in my teens......... Little birds chirped, along the ole ally, a man, sexagenarian, sat under a papaya tree. His hand crumbled, years of work, none that saved, his state still suffers. His hand wet the soil, sweat and water, can't discriminate, yet he kept going. The small clan, of neighbouring village boys, zoomed past him, sped like a rocket, His eyes trying, but in vain, trace the faces, of youth in them. He waited, kept waiting, all day along, his stomach ailed, none approached it. He dreamt of a penny, to fill his tummy, But almighty, hesitated, maybe time to go. Cycles sped, and there alas, chain came off, his mouth spread, grin enlarged. He held his stick, in air so high, none other than Hitler, might have felt, after the war, He crippled, but stood, firm, his dignity untouched, always lived on his own, yet forgot, he was all alone. He marched to the cycle, stooped and picked ...

I welcome solitude with arms wide open. Long time since i have been ignoring him. I need to spend some time with him. See you folks soon. Its only a visual disappearance, decibels stay.

Vaidya : Arre, why don't you try to go the United States? There you can work anywhere and no one from the village will know where you work, so you see no shame. Kishore : Ya that is true, i read somewhere plumbers get paid paid more than the Indian president. Vaidya : You should have told me this long back, I wasted five years of my son. He is in the fifth standard now!!!!!

Ajith Pillai quite beautifully imagines an India where everything is Dollar priced. After reading the article i was quite surprised and at the same time interested in the thought. After spending almost a year in the United States, it definitely feels like goods and commodities priced in Dollars apparently appears to be more cheap. Rightly pointed out in the article, it is ought to be with the numbers. Goods priced in dollars seem too small a price to believe.

she spelled the blossom of love in me............ she sucked the nectar of life from me......... she held my hand in the crowed street....... she left my soul in a deserted lane.....

I fear the light that made me perceptible, I fear the darkness that concealed my sentiment, I fear the colors that illuminated my existence, I fear the elation that makes me overlook grief.