Cheeky kill

Hazy virtues cry out
from dens of incessant clamour
Silences are few and lost
amidst ravenous souls for glamour
Plots made on frosty nights
for battles that matter least;
When the war that wages within
make the beautiful turn to beast
Amidst all these and more
the invisible cuckoo cooes
And then are times, when
Simplicity of being hurts.

Solstice Evenings

I walk down the lonely lane
Anxious and guilty, solemn and awake
Forgotten lies and Shame with red
Drag me back as I step ahead.
Geezers’ chuckle, coal smokes
Shadows of flowers smile at a distance.
Roads – rustling, turning,
slimy as serpents I had dreamt
dark and wild, wag their tongues
Hungry ones, eat my times
Use me up at wee hours
Shaking and panting.
I stand with the smell
Of sweat, semen and the moon.

Love,
Avinash

Majesty in Twilight

The picture says it all.. The Big Temple at Tanjavur.. Caught it in a rainy August evening.

Cheers,
Avinash

My God by name Chinna

I cried the whole of Saturday night. There, before my very own eyes, had unfolded a human tale of strength and victory, of compassion and love of the highest order. Chinna was lied to rest on the floor, the evening daily of the day serving up as a mattress. It was the fourth time he had suffered from fits that night. And his mother, could no more stand numb to see her child rolling off like a bag of bones. We set him, trying to make him feel as comfortable as we could, yet the pain with which he groaned was a sight, little to much for any human to bear.

Chinna suffers from cerebral paralysis - CP in medical parlance - a condition which results in diverse complexeties to the locomotive system, along with stunted mental growth. He has been so, for fifteen years since his birth, and the disease shows no signs of relenting with time, for the reason that the worst effect is seen right at the time of birth.

Kamala, his mom, said he had suffered this during the time of her pregnancy. It happeened since the oxygen to the foetus got alarmingly less. She categorically remarked "saami kudutha varamnu nenaichukka vendiyadhudhaan" ( We need to take it as a boon from the almighty).

Though the windows had been shut, the moon shone through the glass shield. We remained silent for Chinna to sleep. She said she was feeling tired too. After all, it was 2:30 in the night. The fast passenger, the thing it was, unexpectedly crossed tracks. The sound was enough for the fits to come back. Kamala managed to hold his hands close to his body, while i was trying to straighten his shivering legs. It lasted hardly a min but it seemed much more than that. Chinna salivated in his shivering, and all he could relate was a deep-throated groan.

And then, the mother did something only a mother could do. She asked me to take the lower berth. She managed to find some space in the cramped floor, as Chinna could hardly straighten his crooked limbs. She laid down on the bare floor there, just beside her son, covering his shivering body with her saree.The child he was, he cuddled up under his mother's arms, smiling and feeling warm . I laid there, watching this, the pristine form of love unfolding in all its splendour, where none of them required to even speak, just the warmth felt being enough. I was thinking, what could this child could be thinking now? What drives this mother to wake up every morning, to see her son in shambles in his bed, and get him dressed up and feeded? Chinna is their only child.

Kamala, just turned his face toward's mine, and pointed to me saying " Chinna.. Anna paaru". He slowly turned his head,lifted his hands towards me, and smiled. I felt very small before this child. The irony of nature, that such people, could do nothing but smile. I felt like a cleansed soul before him, who inspite of all his hardhships, pain and agony, could smile at me. Kamala smiled too. I stood there transfixed. How could i ever return this gesture? A gesture, which did not ask for anything, but giving the only thing he ever possesed - his smile. I felt small. very very small.

avinash.

Women without a frock!!

There was one piece of garment which had been fascinating ever since i learnt how different dresses look and feel - frock! My mother had a queer reason for liking to have girl children at home - you can dress them beautifully while boy kids always had either a half trouser and a t-shirt. There were numerous options available for girl children - pattu pavadai being my mom's fav - but a frock is one that caught my attention the most. My sister used to have a lot of them - one with bear dolls all over , one with flowers of strange forms, one with trains running all over!. Though she was not the young priti-zinta like child my mom boasted her of, yet i have always thought the frock gave girl children a strange beauty of their own. As times changed, with androgen spurting up with my teens, frocks meant long legs and hair remover ads sporting women with beautiful looks.Yesteryear heroines who dint have the privilege of sporting a bikini even in a durga puja as the mallikas and matondkars do today, wore frocks to show off the sensuos side of them. I personally feel sridevi and silk smitha for that matter looked their best in a rightly coloured frock. ( that were made to wear blood red and shining gold ones were another thing). But the best thing about this dress - along with the half saree in this part of the world - is not every woman would pass off fine on them just by wearing them. you need a lot of passion in dressing up completely in addition to your attire - the way your hair looks, the makeup you wear and the slippers you were too! - which girls nowadays i feel lack the knowledge of. They find it hard to carry them with a frock - either it turns up nastily obscene that every 50 year old starts drooling or too misfitting that their boy friend start thinking she has picked this up on the suggestion of some crook friend of hers.
Times have changed and so have peoples fascination for dresses. Nowadays I find children of 5 - 10 years dressed up in jean trousers, mini sherwanis! ( or what you call them?? ) ; girl children in sleeveless pull overs, chudidhars (it sometimes looks sick even on grown ups) and tight fitting wrap arounds. Some things that were left behind by the British speak volumes of the grace they carried. And you need not wait for me saying that i am eagerly waiting to watch a gracious heroine spoting my favourite women wear!

P.S : 1. Sorry guys if you had expected a mango-aunty story out there.
2. and the guys who really think that why write a post on this, its because of two reasons - one is me almost falling off in sleep after my lunch that I wanted to get me going by writing and the second one is, that the only place nowadays where I find a women with a frock on is on the door of a ladies' toilet!

Something to write

It doesnt happen often with me that I set out to write without knowing what exactly the piece is all about. Some things I have done in the recent past.

1. Cut my hair so short that people jump, as usual, to assumptions like - my girlfriend has ditched me, its my way to cherish the flavour of the season ( how wierd!), one of my colleagues even suspected I am under chemotherapy ( it was difficult for him to visualise a curly haired to have lost so much hair, in so little time). I just wanted to get rid of it and I did. Why cry over it ??

2. Observed the rise of Zizou at the World Cupand the rampage of Federer. Guys like these, time and again, stand up to remind that though the play is already set on the roll,you can command the lead role if you are willing to.

3. Reduce my covetousness towards sleeping. There is no point in blaming the Egyptians, day after day, for making me fall short of my project deadlines ( why the hell there is only 24 hours???), and not even a genius like Heizenberg can explain my manager that at any given instant of time, it is impossible to work 8.5 hours a day and deliver the promised to the client. More than that, its a mental thing whether or not you sleep to rest. Enjoy your time when you are awake and you will never yearn to sleep!

4. You dont need anything reasonable to write a blog, the minimal being that you feel like writing one. and you have the result to prove it.

5. Realise that its nothings wrong to feel that you could have done it better after every attempt fo what you attempt to - the same I feel now. In fact, the more you feel you have the space to grow. The same one a lizard feels every time after losing its tail ( May be ).

6. Drinking is not that bad ( yeah its bad is it ??), provided you take in till your comfort zone is not breahced and also your poor neighbours' isnt.

Cheers,
Avinash

The King and the prince story

Not so long ago, in the nearby lands, there was a kingdom ruled by King Daniel. His kingdom was the most famous among all the tiny kingdoms that existed. He commanded supreme autjority over his subjects and was held in awe even by his detractors. Though his invasions were limited to his state, his popularity had spread to distant lands, thanks to the diaspora of his subjects, all over the globe.Before proceeding further on his achievements, we will dwelve a little on what makes him special.

King Daniel is not a descendant of any royal clan. He was born in a poor peasant's family. His martial education was largely self taught. Though not of warrior blood, he had a natural liking for warfare. Every morning and evening, he used to engage in street brawls, that were largely to capture the public attention, along with his brother. Soon, he became popular in his village and in the surrounding towns.

Spurred on by his brother and his instincts, he thought he could make it big at the biggest city of the state. so, soon he left his village to try out his fortunes in the company of his brother. Though the intial days at the city were demanding and excruciating to say the least, he would found his admirers among the Bourgeoisie and the masses alike. The passion and natural flair that resounded in his art made even his detractors look upon him with admiration. In many wars, where he fought for his state, his valour won him accolodes and his meteoric rise was almost unstoppable in the ranks of the army. Soon he became the undisputed general in charge of the young brigade that stood for the kingdom. As time passed, as the king fell in to his second oblivion, the place for the King naturally went to Daniel.

After taking the reins, he soon understood that his native fighting abilities alone wont hold him high in the days ahead. Prudently he went to distant lands and learnt the native warfare of various regions, soon becoming the master at handling any native weapon one could name then.

What made King Daniel truly special was, his uncanny aptitude to interweave patterns in both his native as well as foreign warfare. This made the rise of any other kingdom almost impossible. Few were his competitors, but even they could not withstand the marauding warrior he was.

Decades went past in his rule and the kingdom benefitted hugely by his loyal service to deliver always the best whenever the citizens deamnded. He ensured all sections of the society, including the dowtrodden, received their share of the benefits from the yearly benefits. Trade was at a high and merchants came from far off lands to start trade ties with this champion.

But as Destiny may have it, all good times wont last enough , even if they do for long. Out of the blues, suddenly, a young kid was making waves at the nearby kingdom. This was Dileep, later came to known as the Sun prince as his name suggested, who was turning out to be a crowd charmer with his novel fighting skills. The rise was also partly due to the crushing authority which King Daniel held over his detractors, and the poetic justice of the new replacing the old. Dileep rose in popularity with his repeated victories against major opponents, and soon became powerful enough to supercede the authority of King Daniel. He had a developed a unique style of fighting with mordern weopons and unflinching attitude.

Aided by his prodigal talent and wonderful performance at various battle grounds, Dileep soon became the undisputable champion of the legion. King Daniel had but a few loyal followers and continued to hold sway over his limited region of authority. People , though respected him for his achievements, largely came to accept Dileep as their next emperor. As Dileep continues to hold sway over the imagination of the masses, the rustic warrior that King Daniel will be surely missed.

Cheers
Avinash

P.S : 1.My attempt to see how Daniel Raaja who later came to known as Ilayaraaja and Dileep who became A.R. Rahman have captured the hearts of millions of music lovers in this part of the land. Thank you guys for what you have made of us !!
2. As evident, the content and intent exemplifies only a single creator. Reason - After all the contemplations about bass strings, violin counterpoints ( leave the vocal; no one has ever done it better as far as I have heard ), my 'realisation' of Raja has come to where the identity has ceased to exist. I see Raja in myself - the repeated attempts to test the human limits of endurance; the sheer joy in creation! I beg your pardon to all the creators because, of course, I am.