Shape and Colour of my Planet of Memory

My Planet of Memory is undoubtedly round
Coz u see,standing on the Pole,
Im unable to spot the other Pole
So the certainity of its spherical shape is profound.

Whilst the siren is heard of a passenger ship
I rush to the shore to spot its hull
As in the geography lessons awfully dull
I fail to view the body of the ship

Enchanted by its spell, decieved by the awe it spread,
I fooled myself in the shore
On a trial of picking its colourful bits scattered around
Losing myself unaware of my actual loss...

But alas...im not lost...
Some fairy godmother waved her magic band
To rescue me from the fairy land of myth
And showed me the harsh reality around


I scare away myself the next moment
Just coz of the longing and fear of reaching a Shore
Aware of my ultimate Destination
I frighten away from the shore

I sigh out a sigh enough to evaporate the oceans
And spray out a tear enough to drown down the land
Now i know the colour of my Memory Planet
Its blue-the Blue Planet of oceans

Can u spot a green?
No, no greeneries of oasis of obsession
Can you spot a brown
No, no browns of deserts of abandantment

I m in a blissful Blue and Blue alone
In a planet of memory tsunamised with the waves of repentance
To offer Him proudly
During our Final Reunion in some far far away safe shores

how to sow seeds of reading habit in your children

mother raised a malayalam novel and declared to the daughter,"mol, u should never read this filthy book when u re grown up some day. its about an insane she-writer". the daughter absorbed the details of the book and the crazy she writer with the ever confused curious eight year old eyes and brain... ...the eyes longed for the day it d be able to savour the insides of the prohibited ...
cursing its choice of 2nd language as hindi in her school

.later, after a couple of years,the eyes matured enough for a self study of her mother tongue enough to savour the ALLOWED and the PROHIBITED. the ever curious eyes and brain explored the family- banned writers and books...
that s how i discovered there are people who re able to pen the feelings and mumblings of minds totally alien to their physical self...

crowding with the crowd

u laugh with the crowd
u cry with the croud
u shout with the crowd
u silence with the crowd
even nonsense make sense
still u ll ve to
coz u ve to crowd with the crowd
but shsh...
listen here, friend...


above a ghost town of memories
t here s a floating cloud...
it smells like
optimism and pristine hope.
like a miraculous backdoor from a house of crude reality
I visit here once in a while...
and stand at its boundary
teased by its strange comfort
for here ive left something...
just something of the real ME....