Let me Speak

THE ‘PLACENAME-VICTIMS’ & THE SHADOW PEACEMAKERS

  The sentences that begins with feelings. The ones that end with hashtags. The emotions that begins and ends within the size of the text box. Maybe there will be a photo or a video. Or maybe there are few friends tagged. It was much before this, and much before there were countless television channels and online media had sprouted. It was all before that. Then the girls who were raped was known…

  On that hopeless day, the home finder started his work in a haste. His neighbor, a soft nineteen year old fell down from a height of 360 odd feet and died without leaving a mark in that 30 storey building. He couldn’t see the body, none of his colleagues could either. The boy, just nineteen, left out only a yellow cap and a pair of clothes which was burnt away soon after his death. An old man…

It was swaying and swagging Jumping and jittering Locking their eyes at each other Leaving behind their needs He glanced at the window panes And allowed her to arrest his eyes She waited for him to glance again And to arrest his eyes, with more power The dim lights faded in and out Leaving her strands more visible Her tresses, more prominent Her dimple, more relevant The light played hide and…

“

Fix thy mind on Me; be devoted to Me; sacrifice unto Me; bow down to Me; having thus united thy whole self with Me, taking Me as the Supreme Goal, thou shall verily come unto Me”. – BHAGAVAD GITA, Chapter 9, Verse 34.

Day by day, it vanishes and a final day, one realizes that all he had claimed was blunder, a huge bag of vanity. Then he wants to return to the beginning and say, “O Life, the…

There was a home in the corner of that street. A new home that was, cuddled by the passerby. It was like a home with a life. It spoke to the kids that passed by. The beggars never disturbed it. The postman bought letters. Milkman wished good morning. It was a nameless home, or the name of the home had all names in it. The vegetable vendor nearby called it the new home in the turning. The school…

Today evening I happened to attend one of the poetry readings in Chennai. This is after a while I am getting into something like a poetry reading or a literature fete. My dear friend Rochelle Potkar who lives in Mumbai and is a beautiful poet who writes mainly haibun and poems of that sorts invited to be a part of poetry reading organized by Prakriti group. My experiences at few poetry readings…

I am a WOMAN

Two days back, the world woke up to the news of a woman hanged to death at Iran. Two days back, I woke up to the news of fundamentalists knocking down a cafe in the name of moral policing. Everyday, I wake up to news that says a three year old was raped or a girl was killed. Same day I watch the VogueEmpower series featuring Madhuri Dixit or Alia Bhatt. Same day I look around once before kissing…

Dear Amma,

In the past 26 years, I have never spent a day away from my you.  We were more like friends. We cooked together, went for shopping, cried and consoled each other when we landed up in troubles, wrote poems and stories and appreciated each other…

For the first time in the past 25 years, I am celebrating a birthday in another city, away from home. I”ve always had the strange feeling of why people celebrate the day they become another year old. But I like cake (baked by Amma), payasam and Sadya. So…

So Chennai has this fascinating beaches, great night life and the unlimited freedom to travel anywhere alone at anytime. But it all started to make a sarcastic smile as soon as the alphabet ‘O’ became a mystery!

  In Chennai, there is nothing which…

I am not sure whether living in another city brings out the poet in you! But yes, Chennai has always brought out the best in me! From a kid to a student to a MNC employee to an assistant director to a copywriter, it had seen various faces of mine! So…

'THANGAMEENKAL PHOTOGRAPHY CONTEST'

GRAB A CHANCE TO PORTRAY YOUR TALENT IN THE SILVER SCREEN! IF THERE IS A PHOTOGRAPHER IN YOU, THIS…

  People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white…

Days come and go

Some stay

Some boring

Some interesting

Some others stinks

But still we think

Those were the days!

  Thus the precious days

Bound us in numbers

Question us in facts

Threaten us in memories

But still we think

Those were the days!

  Memories…

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