The Abode of all Arts!

Oh! My Goddess, Saraswathy,

People pray for your sympathy.

You are the abode of all Arts,

 And fill comeliness in world-parts.

 

Oh! Mother goddess, you are my light,         

And lead me always to a path right.

The ignorance of mine, off, you wipe

 And alert me to facts of all types.

 

Be kind to be with me always,

To tide over all my troubling hurdles. 

Bless me, my mistress, as I place

Here my prayers, for your embrace.

 

Brighten you my mind’s dark side  

And strengthen me, when I’m timid,

Endow me with the knowledge I need,

And clear my word, free from weed.

 

To me, you are always merciful, 

You teach me the needed morals,

And you are in my heart’s essence,

Offering me the aesthetic sense.

      

In my throat, as my voice, you remain

And you stay as memory in my brain.

In my pen, you may linger as ideas,

And help me adhere to good ideals.

 

O, Devi, bless and boost  my morale,

To improve and progress my profile.

Lift me if a downfall, I do have;

Lend me to hold, your holy hand.

 

 You fill in me all calm and peace,

So, I find a place in you, placid.

Oh! My Lady, you make no foul

And thou art my very spirit and soul.

     

 

 

Has He Done or ….?

                            

Midnight of a midsummer night, he couldn’t sleep even a wink. Though he was fully drunk, he was in the proper sense (not in the level of ‘pamp’). The memories of the past took a round through his disturbed mind. The thirty-year-old man surveyed the sum total of the life so far he lived. The result was a big zero. He wrote and erased the word ‘suicide’ repeatedly on the wall of his mind. He was at the brink of ending up his life on a piece of rope. The Lord, Yamadharma waited for him with a noose in his hand. At any time Yama would facilitate the man if he had taken an unyielding decision.  

Like any other child, Raju was cheerful and active in his toddling age. He played, fought, wrestled and did everything of his age with his peers of both the genders.. His friend Gopan’s new toy car presented by his father suddenly slipped him to a question, which went unanswered by his mother. When one day his friend Chacko’s ire in mutual bickering titled him as Bastard, the same question again arose in his mind. Again the answer was silence from his mother’s side. The question expanded in size, when his female friend, Kamala also uttered the same word. That turned out to be a  pin-prick in his mind. His peers understood that the easy way of irking him was to mention his father. All looked at him in derision.   

Slowly he wore the coat of quiet and drove himself away from his core group. Raju became totally a lonely child. He made friends with the trees  and bushes of the mini- forest nearby. He talked to minas, crows and woodpeckers that visited that area. They included him in their company. Those friends were very friendly. They never hurt him calling bastard. Wherever he met youngsters like him, the latter tried to extract pleasure out of his indignity. They couldn’t help flinging him a scornful look. The humiliation he faced from them was intolerable. He wandered among paddy plants in fields, sat on soil walls of land around, spent the vacation under trees picking and biting mangoes, cashew apples etc. He spent time watching fish, swimming in the pond. Sometimes he slept too under trees.

 Going to school was performed naturally by his legs, as his mind was engaged in finding the answers to the questions. “My mother has earned for me only humiliation,” thought he. He whispered, “Why did she bring me to earth? Who is my father? Where can I find that cruel fellow?” And so on and so on and so he kept himself away from his peers. He hid in a cocoon of silence. His days were filled with questions from himself and others. Questions about the whereabouts of his ‘father’ haunted him. Every person he came across had someone to be addressed as the father. In fact, the word father itself was a nightmare for him.

His mother poured love and affection of high density in immeasurable quantities on him. Yet he couldn’t find any sort of joy at that time. He kept a sort of numbness in his heart-neither love nor hatred for his mother. He was very well aware that he had none other than the woman called mother. Still his mind got filled with anger towards his mother sometimes.     

As adulthood got launched in him bringing weight and height, he collected vengeance in high density. Rather it grew more rapidly than he grew. He became an avenger against himself. His attitude towards his mother took the shape of apathy. Had he met the person, who was responsible for this mortification of his, he would have thrashed him away. His face never bore a smile. Instead, it reflected a disgust and fury. These gestures carried his legs to toddy shops where he took asylum. He tormented himself. He quenched his thirst with toddy. His lips were always liquor-licked. The thought of toddy bottles only sent him to worksites to earn for bottles.

Despair stole his sleep. ”What is the use of such an offensive life? Nobody will lose anything if I don’t exist here. Let me row to the other shore.” He looked at the wooden support of the roof and the rope in his hand. Suddenly the helpless face of his hapless mother flashed on his mind .”Oh! What is that shiny object? Two bulbs on it? What are they? Ah! It is another face.” It appeared brightly from the dark corner of his mind like the moon from the clouds. “Kamala. Yes, now I understand. I can read the glow of love in her eyes. Bye, Yamaraj, bye toddy.”

A Teacher’s Day- in and out!

                                               

    

The clock- cock crows ‘ding-dong’

The eyeballs like football ‘roll and roll’

The leg-wings fly to the kitchen

The kitchen door opens ‘bur-bur.’

 The feet of the teacher touch no floor,

  they are the first seed tennis players.

 From kitchen-store to the storage cold

 The teacher dances a ’Kutchipudi’ grand.

 The time when turns eight in the morning,

The meals get ready on the dining.

One likes ‘Dossa’, one likes ‘Idli’, another 

Shows no deal without ‘chappatis’.

Pulling the  bag from the stand at the top

The teacher on a race to the bus stop.

The ‘ton- ton' of the first bell garlands the teacher

And the lub-dub of heart goes undetected.

The children's hubbub, a Pandora’s Box opens ;

Her sweet talk-keys locks the box well.

Here comes God the student-centric learning

To adopt in teaching, modern modes and methods.

What does the producer mean by the words?

God even knows not the exact sense.

The authorities of fanciful thoughts;

Link their fancy to meaningful learning.

The teachers are just like the blind men four.

Some say,” It is the trunk of the elephant,
 ‘No-no’ another says, " It is the tail so long”.

Others opine, “Winnowing ears or pillar legs.”

 Knows the teacher the exact mould  

To shape the young minds present in class.

The body forms a simple pendulum 

Moving up down and left and right.

The extra-work gift is the gratuity,
Greeting the teacher in her activity.

From up, hang the do’s and don’ts 

And follow her will and wit she can't.

As her head gets meddled with a hell,

The clock strikes the strokes of relief.

No doubt, a teacher soulful with spirit

And so is visible her tangible zeal.

Her body flight, takes her off at three p.m.

And it lands at the land of her dear home.

The body seeks the kitchen corner

To complete day’s work left in the morn.

Ten is the time when she nears mother ‘Sleep’

And the mother fondles her keeping in lap.

“Oh! God if you grant me a birth another,”

She prays, “Make me sure a teacher again.”

.

  

 

The Man in the Desert

    

A man in the city

Thought people’s cupidity.

He thought to burke it.

He swore, he went away

With the hell of dependency.

He walked the upward slope

Until the woods nearby.

Rested under trees for a while.

But animals, some with their pile

Went howling unworried.

And birds in their style

Went flying unhindered.

He thought the woods unsafe

He thought to burke it.

He swore , he went away

With the hell of. dependency.

He walked the onward slope

Until the deserts beyond

To await the pleasure of blazing sun.

But alas! To know him abandoned

As no man in his age

Would like to change a page.

He went back to the city

When reality dawned

That no man in human

Would prefer a lone ring.

As in the city, the throng

In the woods, our nature

In the desert, the sand

Are lonely paths unheeded.

Preetha Nair

.

Bury the Worries in Wishes the Best

I remember the turning point of a woman’s life against her ambition that she embraced whole heartedly for long. She had numerous ambitions enormous in size, from the childhood itself. She wandered in a dreamland full of greenery and scenery playing in the field  catching fish in bath-towels. Yet her mind also lived in a world of  pomp and show. Just like any other child, she had spontaneous aspirations in plenty.  The first of her ambitions in the school age was to be a teacher, since only a teacher can be or will be the role-model of a school student. 

 As her brain and brawn grew up, her desire also augmented in size. Moreover her ambition passed through a series of metamorphoses, as it went on changing from situation to situation.  Her motto  differed, when she stepped into the campus of a college. In the college the grandeur of  the Botanical Garden with its flowers, fruits and fragrance caught her attention and fascinated her in high degree. So she thought of being a part of the flora and fauna of the college by occupying a seat of the lecture post. As time went on her yearning further amplified and conquered wide space in the horizon of desire. It flew in the vast sky without any nest for rest. It reached even the state of greed for amassing recognition. When once her maturity made her understand that all those feelings were mere folly, found usually in babyhood and teens, she experienced no difficulty in stepping down to reality. Hence no worries haunted her and all such undue wishes were buried in some other feasible plans. This female is none other than the one who scribbles these sentences.

 Why I narrated this story because the subject on which I would like to speak is ‘Worries and Wishes.’ I think wishes or hopes are the best blotting paper to absorb one’s miseries.

“Life is full of miseries. Desire is the cause of miseries. When you conquer desire, you will achieve happiness.” These sacred words jumped into the material world from the holy thoughts of Sri. Buddha. Well, only the Sri Buddha, a super human or people like Him, who have renounced the worldly life, can pronounce such ideals. If  the entire  human beings take a pavement, where the desire is immaterial, the total appearance of the Globe will be different. It would be just like ‘Maveli Nadu’. The question is how many of you  can exactly follow his principles. Very less or practically nil we can say.

  

Worries  approach you in varying intensity and density. They cause discomfort to the person concerned. Worries are microbes that eat away your peace of mind and physical health. They put you in qualms, hardships, anxiety,  uneasiness, sleeplessness, distress and even hatred towards things and people around  you. They may also put you on bed. Some people worry for no reasons.Worries may be of ‘worry for worry sake’, real worry and standby worry(a mask to escape from something). Worries make you deprived of many a thing, as it steels away your attention from the surroundings. Worries keep you away from attainments and achievements. Success  will be a  far-off dream. Worry means no desire, no desire means no pains and no pains mean no gains. Without pains and gains the world itself would look barren and it won’t be able to host and maintain the inhabitants.

Is there any remedy to overcome the worries? Of course, desire or wish is the best remedy to worries. Life without a desire will be a desert without an oasis.  

Nevertheless  desire executes miracles in people’s lives. When it touches the bed-ridden with its wings, the latter might jump on to his limbs. At the credible presence of hope or wish even the distressed ones bear an open laughter on the face. Dream and desire only determines one’s destiny. Hope or wish for achievement twists the nature of stingy to spendthrift, cruel to kind, lazy to hardworking, atheist to staunch believer and the like.Everyday you awake with a fresh hope of trial and favorable result. Even the lovers strive through objections and restrictions on the basis of hope only. It may even embolden them for an elopement. That extent is equivalent to greed,which should be avoided at any cost. Hope or ambition only leads you, guides you and drives you from disappointment.

 Desirable desire is essential, but greed is never a need. Rather it is a dangerous affair that hoards troubles for the bearer. At the same time the dearth of longing for something allows idleness, suicide, hatred, deceit, murder, destruction and all such atrocities to take place in the society and perform a ‘Thandava’. So why should you worry and make others worry? Utilize the time taken for anxiety to be in company with some creativity and that may earn you name and fame and currency and contentment. You can also form a band  with the inmates of woods, nests and nature to whisper and murmur to them your anxieties. Visiting an intimate person or traveling to a place of choice also diminishes your sorrows. Aspire for achievements, try for fulfillment of ambitions, keep great wishes and dream deep. You will own a mind devoid of the filth of jealousy, timidness ,inferiority and all such evils. Have thoughts of positive tint, so that positive vibes may nullify the negatives. Therefore you bury the worries in wishes the best or else the worries will burry you in darkness or solitude.

sarala 

His Dreams-Cherished or Perished?

This poem was posted at the initial stages of my blogging.I feel it as a topic to link here.

There lay the lad in tattered clothes
In despair high, with shattered dreams.
Movement was unable with body impaired,
To be on limbs was hard,though he desired.

Despite the ban and barriers from the elders,
Marched forward, he to the brigade of soldiers.
When he found himself in uniform of condition,
Got fulfilled his ‘long cherished ambition’.

Enthralled by the words' cream from his dame,
He felt righteous himself to be a victor in his aim..
Though, great was his hope for meeting the kin,
This server, for his country, had concern very keen.

Excited he was with strength and spirit much,
Result, to the front of war he reached.
Fought he very tight, with might in the field,
The foes of stature huge, the country, fled.

Fearing to save from this youth, their ‘self’,
The invaders showered big fall of shells.
That put  this very brave horridly, in hell,
And went on tolling, the dreadful death- knell.

The death-bird flew down flapping the wings
Spreading the sound of feeble hissing noise.
Moments, minutes and hours crawled,
Yet none could notice the lone young corpse.

The demise- bell chimed at the place of birth
Pauperizing the family with no more bread.
Wreaths, flowers and garlands were heaped
Upon his mortal that once stood in heights.

Words of no magic could stop the kin’s sorrows.
Mourning on the  martyr's mortel echoed around.
Will  recover,his parents and lass, from gloom ?
It may ensue barely,but they can hold head in pride.


http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.in/



sarala

Answer the following questions about yourself:

1. If you had Rs.50,000 to just blow up (you have to spend it on YOURSELF. Giving to Charity or buying gifts for others is not allowed), what would you spend it on and why?
   Visit places of my interest.

2. Name three of your closest friends (not family or spouse) and say why you love them.

Free time, Reading Materials and Children because they can enchant me above all other friends.

3. Name three books which have profoundly affected you and which you would recommend to everyone to read.

Usually, I read magazines and newspapers only. At times I read some novels in Malayalam.


4. If you know for certain that you can never ever fail, what would you attempt to do?


 Try to bridge porous relationships through counselling in my own way.


5. What is THE ONE THING that you want very very badly?


More free time for this kind of creativity within my limit is the one thing...