Monday, February 24, 2014

മാളുവിൻ മുറ്റത്തെ മാവ്‌!


 

കുട്ടിക്കാലത്തൊരു മാവിന്‍ വിത്ത്,

മുറ്റത്തിൻ മടിയിൽ മാളു വച്ചു.

ഒരുദിനം കാഴ്ചകൾ  നോക്കിക്കാണാന്‍,

തിരി,നീട്ടീയവൾ  പൊന്തിവന്നു.

 

മഹിയാം മാതാവിൻ കരം ഗ്രഹിച്ചു

ഉയർന്നു,നിന്നവൾ ചുറ്റുംനോക്കി.

പുറത്തെ  വശ്യമാം ലോകം കണ്ട്

മിഴിചിമ്മി,യവൾ നൃത്തമാടി.

 

മാരുതന്‍ തൈയ്യേ കയ്യാൽ തഴുകി,

 മാരിയു,മപ്പിനാൽ സ്നാനം നൽകി,

താരാട്ടു,മൂളിയുറക്കി,തമി,  

ഉഷസ്സിൽ പാസ്വാനു,ണർത്തിവിട്ടു .

 

തിത്തിരി പക്ഷികൾ  നൃത്തം ചെയ്തു,

തത്തകൾ  തത്തിക്കളിച്ചു മെല്ലെ.

മൂളിപ്പാടി,കുയിൽ പൊൻസ്വരങ്ങൾ,

 ലാളനക്കു തെല്ലും ലോഭമില്ല.

 

പൂവിട്ടു നിന്നു സുഗന്ധം,പേറി  

കിങ്ങിണി,പോലുള്ള മാങ്ങ പൊങ്ങി

വിണ്ണിലൂളിയിട്ടുപറന്നുപൊങ്ങി,

വണ്ണാത്തിക്കിളിവന്നുമാങ്ങകൊത്താൻ.


മഹിയാം മാതാവിൻ കരം ഗ്രഹിച്ചു

ഉയർന്നു,നിന്നവൾ ചുറ്റുംനോക്കി.

പുറത്തെ  വശ്യമാം ലോകം കണ്ട്

മിഴിചിമ്മി,യവൾ നൃത്തമാടി.

 

മാരുതന്‍ തൈയ്യേ കയ്യാൽ തഴുകി,

 മാരിയു,മപ്പിനാൽ സ്നാനം നൽകി,

താരാട്ടു,മൂളിയുറക്കി,തമി,  

ഉഷസ്സിൽ ഭാസ്വാനു,ണർത്തിവിട്ടു .

 

തിത്തിരി പക്ഷികൾ  നൃത്തം ചെയ്തു,

തത്തകൾ  തത്തിക്കളിച്ചു  മെല്ലെ,

മൂളിപ്പാടി,കുയിൽ പൊൻസ്വരങ്ങൾ,

  ലാളനക്കു തെല്ലും ലോഭമില്ല.

 

പൂവിട്ടു നിന്നു സുഗന്ധം,പേറി  

കിങ്ങിണി,പോലുള്ള മാങ്ങ പൊങ്ങി

വിണ്ണിലൂളിയിട്ടുപറന്നുവന്നു,

വണ്ണാത്തിക്കിളികൾ മാങ്ങകൊത്താൻ.


വാനംനോക്കി മാവു പുഞ്ചിരിച്ചു,

മാങ്ങയടർത്താനവൻ വെമ്പിനിന്നു.

പാരമ്യത്തിലായല്ലോ ആമ്രമണം,

മാളു പരിതോ,ഷത്താൽ തുള്ളിച്ചാടി.

 

 താരുണ്യം മാളുവെ തേടിയെത്തി.

സൗന്ദര്യ,മവളിൽ,വാസം ചെയ്തു ,

അയലത്തെ മധു ചങ്ങാതിയായി,

നെയ്തവർ  കനവേറെ മാഞ്ചുവട്ടിൽ .


ഗൃഹേ ഒരുനാൾ മനുഷ്യക്കൂട്ടം,

മാളുവിൻ മുത്തി വിട പറഞ്ഞു.

"ചിതകൂട്ടീടേണംആരോ ചൊല്ലി

"മാവു മുറിയ്ക്കാൻ വിളംബം വേണ്ടാ.”

  

മാവിന്നരി,കിലേയ്ക്കോടി  മാളു.

 മിഴികൾ രണ്ടും തുളുമ്പി നിന്നു 

"എന്നുടെ മാവു മുറിച്ചീടല്ലേ," 

മാളു മൊഴിഞ്ഞു,സ്വനമിടറി.


പരോപകാരമാണെന്റെ ദൗത്യം,

ഒരുനാൾ നീയും വിടുമിവിടം.

അതുതന്നയല്ലേ നിത്യ സത്യം,"

അതുപോലാ മാവു ചൊന്നപോലെ.


മാവും മുത്തിയും മറഞ്ഞുപോയി,

മധുവും മാളുവും മിഴിനീർ വാർത്തു.

അവരുടെ പീടയിൽ പങ്കുചേർന്ന്,

മാരുതൻ മെല്ലെ തഴുകി നിന്നു

 

 

 

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Thirst!



The crow far away from nest
 Flapping its wings up and down
Fluttered around in fizzling mood
For water to douse his thirst.       

Went near the river vast,
Which, the mighty Sun has
Mercilessly killed sipping
Its blood, rain bestowed..

  Reached ponds deep and wet
 And brooks and many becks, 
Once lay with water full,
 Illustrate they only aridity now.

“Aha! A pot with water at the foot,
I can guzzle," hoped he much.
But how can I get it,
Pot's mouth is too tapered?"

Pondered he over it ,"Yes,
An idea looms in me."
With a hearty grin, stones 
One by one he put to set the level.

Alas! Cuts by stones in the pot
Water gushed and no water in pot.
Sat in sadness the poor crow.
Looked around with no  trust.

 “Ho! Water here spurts a lot,
Thanks the water authority;
Unfastened ruptured water pipes
Lets water flood in force."


http://writetribe.com/100-words-saturday-6-2/





Friday, February 7, 2014

My Earliest Memory!


This is one of my earlier attempts at blogging. I had posted memories in four parts and the first one I am re-posting here.  


At times a procession of memories conquer our present and our mind becomes a participant in that.


               …….that never returns…




Part -1


There are a good many things that never return in their original forms. The time that we spend, the food that we gulp, the objects that burn, the lives that expire and the like are a few such things.

 There is one thing that everybody likes or loves to experience once more in life, but cannot, is nothing but our childhood. And that will never- never appear before us once more; that is a paradox, which we have to abide by. Sometimes we wish we were children without any wish for achievements and without any chains for movements.


 Now let us have a voyage along through the seas of our good old days of getting petted and pampered. There will be none who have not reached the shore of sweet childhood, sailing in the ship of their memory. So also, no different is my case. My childhood that once pedalled through my beloved hamlet, registers its presence in the ledger of my leisure hours.


 Yes, now I’m there at the panorama of my village, which is in the south of India. The southernmost part of India contains a small corrugated leaf-like state called Kerala. The picturesqueness of my rural area steals the mind of its visitors as well as the dwellers. Yes, it was full of tall trees with swaying twigs and bushes with lots and lots of flowers (And now more or less concrete trees or jungles have displaced the very charm of our lovely village).


 Butterflies and birds fluttered by and visited their favourite nectar storage to feast themselves sufficiently. That was indeed a colourful sight. Wells quenched the thirst of peasants, while ponds refreshed them after the day’s work. Fields grew grains in abundance and, trees and plants yielded fruits and flowers in plenty. They dressed up in the apparel of three crops annually, two turns of paddy and one turn of sesame or horticulture. The cool breeze fanned the people in the hot sun. The sun never failed to attend to his duties and shone on all the stone pebbles and sand particles. The monsoons were ambrosia for the villagers, as they awaited them as hornbills. Birds often turned to be great singers and sang melodies and fine tunes for the villagers. They occupied their seats in branches to watch coolly the things going on smoothly in their jurisdiction. Nights also exhibited the lustre and lure of her children-the moon and stars, whenever required.


 The landowners and the farmworkers kept a sincere bond of love and affection. One could feel a oneness between them. The peasants took care of the fields and cultivations, whereas the masters cared for the workers’ welfare. Pretension had space seldom in the minds of both the giver and the taker. They understood the barriers that hindered each other and hence so they could overcome the difficulties with a combined endeavour. In general, the occupants of my village possessed a light heart in hardships or prosperity because they had no sky breaking dreams or ambitions. Innocence and earnestness ruled the inhabitants’ minds as a whole.


For http://writetribe.com/my-earliest-memory/

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

How do I Tell her about You!


“What sin have I committed to be here? Jumping into flames or gulping venom is painless. This task, O! How hapless I am. Poor ‘Bhabhi’*!”  How do I tell her about you, ‘Bhaiyya’*” Lakshmana’s heart was heavy, mind was lamenting.  He wept foiling the tear-flow.
Sitadevi unaware of the ill-fate waiting, exultantly journeyed for her refreshing visit to the forest-ashram.

He had to unseal his bunged lips,“Bhaiyya, Srirama sensed people’s displeasure on welcoming you, after He released you from Ravana’s captivity.  He chose to send you to Valiki’s   hermitage.”
Pathos crammed the vicinity breaking Sitadevi’s heart.

 His departure was tear-jerking.

*Bhabhi- sister-in-law   Bhaiyya- elder brother

For http://writetribe.com/100-words-saturday-11 .

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Hunger!


Rummaged around, the little boy 
For at least a morsel of bread
 Or something edible for now
To answer his belly's call.

“Ha! Here lies well a litters' bin
Behind this hotel highly big,
Sure here I can satiate myself;
 My hunger much hinders me.”

Within no time his legs dashed
 At the destination, fast he found
Like a glider through the air
And tracked food, his hopeful wish.

  The leftovers there of someone's food
   Sumptuous sure filled his mind, 
 His  eyes both eager glittered and
  His wide mouth gluttonous watered.

When  he drew out his upper limbs
To fetch the victual found in bin
Like a wind wild, to the spot
Arrived a cat and filched it away.

The sodden cheeks, burns of tears,
 The poor boy wiped with rags.
 A person elderly clemently lent him
 A parcel of palatable tangy food.



http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.in/2014/02/poetry-pantry-188.html#comment-form