Showing posts from March, 2009

To Bee

Life - now that's a big word- but well written works make you shed your inhibitions and wax eloquent on such weighty stuff providing you the temporary illusion that you are equal to it.

Anyway, life is a string of evidences. Thoughts, tendencies and such formless things do not by themselves complete life. Life demands occurrences as concrete proofs of these things. And these demands are not externally placed on us. Each of us demand it of ourselves. Only events leave their impressions on life. Possibilities that did not materialize wane in definition over time. States of mind and pressures that dominated our consciousness at some point vanish without a trace. Only events stay.

Where does this event-based memory start ? From one's actions ? Or from occurrences one recalls ? If so, then occurrences one recalls precede one's existence. Why they are indeed more vital considering the germ of one's existence is from the action of two individuals. It is inevitable for man to se…

பாலைப்புயல் '98

பாலைத்திணையதில் வாகைக்களிப்பதை பொருத்துவதில்லை நற்பாணர்
சாலைக்கடந்திட தேவைநெறிமுறை மீறுவதுண்டே சிலபொழுது
ஏழையிவனது உவகைநினைவுகள் உட்படவில்லை சட்டகத்துள்
காளையுட்புகு பீங்கான்கடையதை நினைவில் நிறுத்திய ஒரு பொழுது

மாலைசித்திரை வெயில்மணலது சூறாவளியில் சுழன்றதுபோல்
ஓராளை எதிர்கொள மஞ்சள்ளணிபவர் பத்தோடொருவரும் உழன்றாரே
வாளைவீசுடும் வேங்கையொன்றதை சொல்லிலடைப்பதும் சாத்தியமோ
ஏழையிவனது ஆசைக்கெனவோர் அரிசிப்பதத்துடன் நிறுத்திடுவேன்

ஜ்வாலைப் பார்வையை கண்ணிலிருத்தி சடுதியில் வீசிடும் காஸ்ப்ரோவிச்
பாலை எதுவோ மிதசுழற்பந்தன் எவனோ ஒருவன் போட்டதுபோல்
சேலை அணிந்திடும் மாதர் அவரது நளினம் கலந்த கொலைவெறியில்
மூலை ஒன்றதில் ஆழக்களித்திடும் மாந்தர் இடமதிற் பதித்தானே

நாளைமுதுமையில் பேரும் பாலும் உறவும் மறக்க நேர்ந்திடுமோ
ஓலைப்படுக்கையை நோக்கிடும்போது நாரணன் பேர் சொல மறந்திடுமோ
ஒரு வேளை - அதுபோல் இதுவும் ஒருநாள் மறந்திடுவேன் என பயங்கொண்டே
வாலைப்பருவ காலத்தில் கண்ட பேரழகிங்கிதை வரைந்துவைத்தேன்

ummAchchi - Left Arm Fast

"Ma'am, Prabhu here doesn't believe in God" he said.

He was a typical specimen I was forced to spend school-life with. Uglier in the same uniform with an expression displaying unfathomable levels of stupidity and cruelty. There are numerous ways a nine year old can mess with another. I don't recall what I had done. It could have been something as mundane like flicking his pencil. The vindictive rascal gets back at me by putting me in a spot in value education class. He was a clever chap, I must grant him that. That "gotcha" grimace of his made it clear that he understood putting me in a spot where I had to explain myself to the rest of the class was more painful than socking me in the jaw.

The teacher was waiting with an unasked why. The class was teeming with rebuttals to whatever smartass logical arguments I may make - just that I had none. It was something that happened. As a nine year who could spell agnostic, things were never going to be smooth. So …

Say something

'Plain quoters are a dozen a dime
So add your take don't lay it bare'
'About a craftsman in his prime
An explanation I shall dare
When it's a True Artist I'm

Contended just to gape and stare
Perhaps write a doodling rhyme

And just proceed to humbly share'

From 'Chicago Zen' by AKR

Watch your step, watch it, I say,
especially at the first high

and the sudden low
one near the end
of the flight
of stairs,

and watch
for the last
step that's never there.

Men have always been connoisseurs

அணங்கு ஆயினள் தான் பிறந்த ஊர்க்கே
மருதனிள நாகனார் (புறம் 349)

Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?

- Christopher Marlow, Doctor Faustus


Winters Rains and Consolations
Broken rubbers, Miscalculations
These are our Honorable Roots
Whether or not it suits
Our Thoughtful Interpretations


You're talking to me ?

Think of what you're saying.
You can get it wrong and still you think that it's all right.
The Beatles

Jack : When people think you're dying, they really, really listen to you, instead of just...
Marla: - instead of just waiting for their turn to speak?
(Fight Club)

Consumption Vector

Don't think of it as dumbing it down. That is condescending and incorrect. But when you can snip out aspects of your personality which are not as essential as you would like to think they are, then you - and I mean everyone - would be more accessible and categorizable.

But isn't it all about growing in all possible directions and realizing all that we can.

Most welcome sir. But for your own good, keep the dichotomy between "what you are" and "what you do" clear. As in "You like flowers" vs. "you are a flower liker". To expect "like like same same"s is to inflate your liking for flowers. You don't like them that much really.

Confusing causal cycles there but worth trying. But it's going to be tough.Particularly with others, what they do is what they are. They are either that or not. Poetic appreciation for instance. Let me use a lovely phrase from நற்றிணை for example.வினை முடித்தன்ன இனியோள். Roughly translates to "sh…


Baldrick: I heard that it ( World War I) started when a bloke called Archie Duke shot an ostrich 'cause he was hungry.
Edmund Blackadder: I think you mean it started when the Archduke of Austro-Hungary got shot.
Baldrick: Nah, there was definitely an ostrich involved, sir

DAE: You don't not exist in vaccuum. Reactions to the world and its realities are expected from you. You can't just keep talking about yourself and expect people to be interested.
Me:I see that...but the problem with opinions is one things leads to another .... I stick to stuff that interests me
DAE: Cricket interests you and yet there was not a word about the attack on cricketers in Lahore...
Me: ...There is carpet bombing and mass murder happening next door as we speak, it would be inconsistent and absurd to make noise about this minor hassle
DAE: Okay if that disturbs you so much why don't you write about it ?
Me: Wall perching is better when you don't know enough about the facts
DAE: Then why don't…

It shows

Snooty literary standards are injurious to health.
Poets are nasty, particularly about other poets. Perhaps being nasty in poetry is a way to assure oneself of his poetic status. Add to that something that can be retrospectively be labeled as both chauvinistic and juvenile. Or just plain naughty....

It Shows

Ugly Sight.
What's the honest thing to do ?

All that matters should be the mind-content
But honestly its only the beauty.

One has to be cruel with a kind intent
And do a friend's moral duty.

Thou art lover summon some gall
To tell her straight she'd rather shed all

Pretensions of art.

When her poetry has no fire

It shows.