Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Nothing is an accident....


This is an acrostic nonet (Nine lined) poem that reads-“ACCIDENTS” (first letter of every line)

Along a timeline of a 1000 months
Cavort a hundred signal posts.
Criss-cross roads’ coloured corner stones,
Injuncting Life’s unforeseen adventures.
Did happen as accidental as didn’t happen.
Expeditions towards an unseen horizon.
Non-stop lights, arduous journey-
Till a lone red-lit apology.
Stop! Accidents, non-accidents-all halt, overspent!

Life's sinuous pathways (pastels on paper)

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Copying runs in genes...




Imitation, did you know
Flowed in our blood?
For Nature in all impartiality did bestow
same set of gene to all animal-hood.

98% of our genes
are not our own.
The lion, dog, donkey and baboon
can stake claim to the same!

What then makes you you and me me
if we are 98% same?
If life on Earth is unique
It’s ‘cause of the 2% paradigm!

Two zebras never did
share identical stripes ever.
As two humans never could
Ever think similar!

            It is a well known fact that we do share even more than 98% genes with all the animals. So imagine what it could have been if we were really 100% different!

Friday, November 25, 2011

Mirror Haikus


Mirror Haikus
Haikus that can be read as 1st-2nd-3rd line or as 3rd-2nd-1st line, without compromising on the general notion are Mirror haikus. This is the innovation of Mr. Emmanuel Abdalmasih Samson..

A Rhythm


Anon the skeleton tree.
Agog in colours, come springtime.
Life-cycle of seasons.
Life-cycle of seasons.
Agog in colours, come springtime.
Anon the skeleton tree.

(Life-cycle if read as Life, cycle of...lends a little different flavour!)
*************
Gaming ...


Love-heart over mind.
Restraint-mind over heart.
Life’s a warring seesaw.
Life’s a warring seesaw.
Love-heart over mind.
Restraint-mind over heart.


(Love-heart as Love heart, over mind and Restraint-mind as Restraint mind, over heart might mean a wee different)

Bark and bank (acrylic on canvas)



Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Toast to machismo!


            Waking up to the aroma of brewing coffee is one of the pleasant ways to begin the day. My daybreak got pleasanter as I realized that this daily kitchen routine of mine was relegated to my wife today, in view of International Men’s Day. I must say that it was quite an un-egoist task since a week to get her to celebrate this day for me. It had already cost me a fine silk saree and a pledge to let her host the next gala kitty party in my house.
            “Good Morning! Happy men’s day darling,” she squealed as she entered with two mugs.
            “Thanks. Oh! But this isn’t coffee! What’s this?” I said as the strong, strange smell battered my nose.
            “Kashaaya*...darling.” She said sublimely enjoying her coffee.
            ‘Kashaaya? Why? I’m not sick!”
            “Precisely. I want you to remain so for the rest of your life. And since today is Men’s Day, I thought it best to give you kashaaya for good health. And besides...it will keep you going-even for the night.” She winked.
“Night!?” I choked in dismay.
“Yeah! Men’s Day, after all? I expect you’ll want to prove a point or two tonight...”
I had broken into a sweat already. After weeks of happy quiescence, I wasn’t sure of a sterling performance. A point or TWO?  Impossible. I had to let her know some way that Men’s Day was for men to do as they pleased and not to prove or justify being men or celebrate manhood!
“Can I have coffee after breakfast, at least? You know I can’t move my bowels without coffee?” I wanted to steer the conversation to a more practical aspect of my simple life.
“Breakfast? Sorry honey. Today is Thursday... The Baba has ordained a fast!”
 “Oh! Are we fasting the entire day?”
“Yes and No. The fast lasts the whole day and as the Man of the family only you will be fasting!” Fast the day and entertain at night? I empathized with the proverbial tired horse that was flogged....At least it could remain a horse without worrying not being a stud....
Damn the woman! It was International Men’s Day and I was determined to enjoy it, I reminded myself as I stepped into the service section of the restaurant. I had decided on a leisurely breakfast. As manger, I had unofficially made it known to all the male staff that they could indulge themselves this day. This meant late arrival at work, work-less day at office and early departure. The women had to simply oblige, for, didn’t we let them freak out on Women’s Day?
After a clean sweep of Masala Dosa, Vada-sambhar, Poori-sagu and Kala jamoon, as I was contemplating a leisurely puff, I received a call from Srirangaraju, our office assistant.
“Saar! We are waiting for you at the office...”
“Rangu...I will be there shortly...” We had planned to visit the newly inaugurated office of the ‘Men’s Association.’
“Saar...men can cry, gossip, bitch and freely do other un-manly things.” Srirangaraju was drooling for the association’s membership.
“Rangu, what does it cost to be a life member? Let’s go and find out..” I couldn’t afford to pass a golden opportunity.
‘But saar, we are employees of women’s lungi (His pronunciation of lingerie) company- ‘Phit and Preeti!’, (Fit and Pretty!) remember? I am not sure if they’d let us be members...”
“No..no...no. True we work for ‘Fit and Pretty,’ but they’d dare not discriminate us for that. They must realize that just as for women, the problems of men are universal. They may even have special consideration for men working for women both at home and offices. Let’s check out.”
At the office, it was with satisfaction that I noted that all the women employees were working away even as the men in our offices were celebrating their day. The watchman wasn’t there, the chaprasi had absconded...let the girls return us the favor. I couldn’t forget that they had taken an entire weekend off on this year’s Women’s day.  
It was somehow very un-ladylike of all these women to remain so docile and engaged in their work today. I expected them to bombard me en-mass and lecture and jibe for a week about how we were kam-chors...albeit for a single day.
“ Saar! Thank god you came...” Srirangaraju hurried up to me. He appeared terrorized and I could only surmise one thing:
“Did your wife call you?” I asked.
“Worse saar! She is here!”
“Really! I must see this...Dem...I mean...Devi. Where is she?”
“In your chamber saar....” he croaked.
“What? What is she doing in my cham-” my words froze as I pushed the door of my chamber and saw the woman seated at my desk. It wasn’t Rangu’s wife It was the regional manager on a surprise visit! I turned back just in time to see Rangu slink away from my arm’s reach. He knew I could turn murderous at such times.
“Oh! Look who’s here...better late than never...eh? Mr. Rao, can you give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fire you for unauthorized absence? ..Though I had informed about this inspection.”
“ Family! Family, madam. I’m a family man, madam...wife, children, responsibilities...” I dreaded my wife’s reactions to my joblessness and it was thus no surprise that I found a reason and my voice simultaneously. I was wondering if someone had deliberately not informed me about her intended visit.
“Mr. Rao, the men staff must be ashamed. Look at the girls. They are so diligent! Working their hearts away when all you men were not even around! I declare a raise for the women. And as for men, be thankful you are still employed. However, I shall recommend that all the men must forfeit one increment for being so callous about work and timings.” she thundered.
Tears stung my eyes...By God...We sweat it out the whole year and this ogress comes visiting on Men’s Day when we have decided to just take it easy?! Unbelievable!  It was an obvious ploy by the women colleagues and we had no way to prove it.
Gulping a huge lump at my throat, I managed to say, “Sorry madam. I promise I shall be a better manager from now on...”
“Oh no..no..Don’t bother. You may go back and work in shop floor. I have a replacement who will take over from you as manager. Roberts...” She called.
A heavyset figure rose from the seat across and walked menacingly towards me. The crew cut, the sumo-weight and a clean shaven stern face made me want to piss in my pants as I held out my hand saying, “ Welcome, Mr. Roberts.”
“Watch it man! I am Miss Julia Roberts, the new manager of this office,” she said as I struggled to keep myself from fainting.

* Kashaaya- A homemade concoction of known and unknown herbs, prepared for health benefits.


Tuesday, November 22, 2011

A chameleon called Life...



Hungry flames crackle in quest
licking every fragment up to the core.
Smacking, diabolic, seeking for more
the molten fervour hammers at the crust.
Throbbing to spew forth vengeful lava,
malevolence blows, raining infernal plasma.


 Oblivious to the tumult within,
the calm columns stand.
The crowned cupolas, ornate therein
skyward look, though aloft a blazing quicksand!
Fierce within, serene without:
Isn’t Life a surprise of such turnabouts?

White-black; Heaven –Hellhole, Core-Crust; Fire and Calm-
Switch places in merry abandon!
Once within, once without and once never there,
playing serious ‘truth or dare!’
Like the faces of a mere coin, Life’s not bare.
It isn’t two-dimensional. Not even three.
Only a myriad dimensions make me me.


Look another time at those tireless wings.
An eagle? No. Stop your eyes from playing tricks.
For soars there the soul of life- the undying Phoenix!
Rising from the nether worlds, tempests, storms, droughts and embers
a thousand dimensions old, never yet a singe!


Friday, November 11, 2011

Vasantha-My Spring!




You willed seasons
for Your earth.
But Time stills for me.
No winter, no autumn
Spring will ever be
mine
in loving blossom!

Fragrance to what need
when I breathe You?
All my rainbows bleed
their selves into your blue.
Eyes found
no vision better worth.
Feet off the ground
as You walk my path...

I cannot be me
when you are within.
I am not me. You are.
We are. Have ever been!



Friday, November 4, 2011

Wisdom of the lamb...




Trail our path, staring...
you can’t change the end.
Butcher’s-kitchen- and at the dining...
we’re destined for the weekend.

His chopper sounds
staccato on the wood.
A teeter at my throat,
dried grass at my feet...
Most went today,
tomorrow I should.

Beckoning, they tease me.
Blackened, scraped hoofs
lying by lifeless heads.
Beefy torsos on hooks
washed clean of life, long bled.

When mother went, sheared,
without dissent,
she said:
Let most think us meek.
Not horse, not tiger, not elephant
only a lamb’s sacrificed in a ritual!
The truth is cardinal:
Not even Gods shelter the weak!**
Son;
Don’t bleat.
Silence isn’t a frailty.
Don’t totter at the altar seat,
Yielding isn’t inability.
We die,
letting the world live,
quietly suffering their gluttony!



**  अश्वं नैव गजं नैव व्याघ्रं नैव नैव
    अजापुत्रं बलिं दद्यात् देवो दुर्बलद्यातकः
Ashvam naiva gajam naiva vyagrham naiva cha naiva cha;
ajaaputram balim dhadyaat daevo durbalalahdyaatakaha.
                              -The Subhashita

Not horse, not elephant, not tiger, but only the lamb is sacrificed in a ritual. One must understand that not even God protects the weak.