Adieu to You 2013

Six days to the end of the year. Six days to making an attempt at another list of New Year's Resolutions. Except, I've learnt that there's really no point making a new list. So instead, I'm going to make a list of guidelines that I should probably keep in mind through the year. Personal progress... Or something like that.

Bonds of Trust

Broken apart like a weathered rock,
Crumbling somewhere within me.
Detached, yet with the power to affect,
To affect every vaulted niche of my mind.

Knots

People are like knots in an unraveled roll of twine.
The more you pull, the tighter the knot gets.
The more you try to draw them to you,
The tighter withing themselves they become.
A big, messy, frustrating knot.

Happy Onam and all that Payasam

I write this post at 8am on a surprisingly pleasant September morning, anticipating dry heat to hit me hard in the face in approximately two and a half hours. But you know what? I don't care. It is Onam. The day that my fellow members of the Mundu-wearing and toddy drinking state and I, make an earnest effort to be happy and not stuff our faces with meat. (Namboodiris please excuse.)

"I hope you understand"

When I was ten
My best friend moved away.
It was hard and I missed her.
Mama told me it was inevitable,
But I didn't care.
All I got for consolation was
"I hope you understand".

The Slave Ship

Down in the dark,
Flesh against flesh.
Salt water burns;
The dead laid to rest.

Crashing and tumbling,
Water against stone.
White-capped waves,
Wood splinters against bone.

Wailing screams,
Shattering the calm,
Bright orange embers,
Smoke searing flesh and palm.



Inspired by Turner's painting titled informally as "The Slave Ship", or formally as "Slavers Throwing Overboard the Dead and Dying - Typhoon coming on".

The Cool Thing About Life - Love Keeps Coming Back

This post comes at 2.15 am on a Sunday morning. Apologies if it's poorly worded. Apologies if it's badly edited. Let's just hope it turns out to be better than Dan Brown's Inferno.

Cat's got her claws out.

Yes, this is a little bit of a rant, but I don't care. The last time I let my mind roam and wander free as the daffodils in the wind, I loved every minute of that freedom. So, in my current state of being worked up, being a little hot tempered and being very, very concerned about the state of affairs, literally, affairs of the people around me and of the people in denial around me, this goes out to you. Ladies, stiffen that upper lip, straighten that spine and let's get our acts together. Gentlemen, wake up, pull your pants up and know when you need to get your act straight. So, let me get started.

Be A Girl Who Writes

Be a girl who writes. A girl who writes knows her love for words is deep and true. Be a girl who finds joy in the printed word. A girl who prefers the tactile turn of a page to a swipe on a Kindle knows the undying love she feels for the tangible. Be a girl who walks around correcting her friends' grammar, not because she is putting them down, but because she honestly can't help it. Be a girl who apologizes once she has realized that she has interrupted them due to her correcting their grammar. Be a girl who spends hours brooding over poetry in free-verse, wondering if she'll ever be able to understand free-verse's sentence construction. The girl who puts herself down because she thinks her poetry is mundane is always looking for inspiration within a gerund. Be a girl who carries a notepad on her at all times. You never know when something will move you. Look for experiences that move you.

Bougainvillea

Sweet Bougainvillea, how you sway,
Softly, sadly, torn and frayed.
By the breeze on your side,
She lifts you up and lets you die.

Humble Bougainvillea, the way you bow,
Shamelessly they make you frown.
Your lover has left you by the by,
He can't see you weep, cry.

Alas, Bougainvillea, left alone,
Solitary, no one hears you moan.
The world hardly gives a care
For your heart, laid so bare.

Perhaps, there will come one day,
Answered all your wishes prayed.
Perchance they may come for you,
As your tourniquet, soul-mate's hue.

In Broad Daylight (Part 1)

A long and winding bus journey to Broadway from the outskirts of the city may deter most people from taking the, for want a of a better suited word, voyage, but for someone who travels 20km one way to and from the aforementioned outskirts to get to college every day, the destination was a welcome change. From Iyapanthangal bus depot, there are three bus routes that will take you to Broadway, namely 17M, 54 and 11H. Over the course of a surprise break, courtesy the Tamil Nadu government, I was able to make the journey three times, using all three bus routes, and if you ask me, it was well worth the trouble, all three times.

Staying Bombed

We’re sitting in the sun and the guys from The F16s don’t seem to be bothered by it as I keep shifting to avoid getting horribly tanned. They’ve just won the Western Music Acoustyx competition at Saarang earlier that morning, but oddly, they don’t seem to be showing any excitement about it. They open up fairly quickly, and as I talk to them, I find out that they’re more than the stereotyped ‘Rock n Roll band guys’. Josh Fernandez plays the role of lead vocalist and guitarist, Harshan Radhakrishnan is the keyboardist, Sashank Manohar plays the bass guitar, Vikram Yesudas  is the drummer while Viraj Raviraj Yesudas is the other guitarist.