Wednesday, September 9, 2015

The city of my solitary life.

The city of my solitary life,
I came here long ago;
With shining eyes and dreams...
You gave me aims and directions;
Taught me where to go. 

So much was your power
That I came back to you...
With dreams to be fulfilled
And life to be made. 
You taught me many things;
Solitary though my life was, 
You always kept company.

I discovered you every day;
Through the sprawling traffic;
Through the signal where I live;
Through the scorching heat of summer days;
Through the sparse rains of some years;
Through those surprise showers you have 
Been blessed with of late....

Through the ghee dripping sweets 
Of the nearby restaurant often frequented...

Through the magnificent gift of Bay of Bengal;
Those wonderful seas with the beautiful shores....
I will miss those shores and breezes,
Which run through my home here in the afternoons.
And many more things I will cherish;
Big ad small, happy and sad...

Where not have I started my journeys to?
All my long journeys started from you...
Many a place I have been to...
Many a thing I have seen....
To return to you like I go home...
Only to realise that you have become my second home
In these five solitary years....

Solitary though it seems to me, 
You surrounded me with people;
Teaching me many things,
Making me strong when I cried, 
Making me struggle when I needed,
Making me happy when I least expected,
Taking part in my life's journey...
Bitter sweet yet unforgettable....

Thank you dear city,
For making me a part of you,
At least for a small time...
People come here with dreams
And become a part of you.
Those who cannot live in you 
And leave you with memories,
Have them preserved in their hearts....

It's time for me to leave you too...
It's inevitable...
Thank you dear city for everything.
You and my solitary years discovering myself,
Will always be remembered.....
You are not only mine, 
You are always ours....
Namma Chennai. :) 

Friday, July 3, 2015

The restaurant at night...

There sits a restaurant by the main road,
Inconspicuous, at the beginning of a small lane,
Drowned in the din of the bustling city by the day,
Only to be remembered by the regular customers
Including the other restaurant workers probably...


Late at night, after business hours,
When the traffic dwindles and the people
Have taken shelters from the busy day's
Tiring schedules and are falling asleep,
With the shutters half closed, this restaurant
Catches your attention......

With the black tiled floor with white boarders,
Neatly swept and moped, with steel rimmed
Chairs and tables wiped clean and shining,
Chairs kept upturned on the tables, 
Glistening in tube light; the workers,
In casual clothes, refreshed after a shower, 
Prepare to sleep after a long day's work.

Some just lying on the now clean floor,
Chatting with one another, or watching
A video or a song, on a mobile network....
Or looking at the empty road sitting on the
Facade talking.....
Or sometimes just lying alone contemplating....

You can't help wonder if,
It is about a distant home,
Parents, wife and/or children,
Who may be waiting for his next visit home....

And can't help ask in your mind,
"Is it about your life as a worker
In a small restaurant, in a big city,
That you think oh dear hotel worker?
What are your dreams and aspirations?
What are your realities?"

Thursday, June 4, 2015

Of true love....

It hurts every time when heart is broken,
Hurts every time when my love is not accepted.
People talk about true love and its greatness;
But where is the "truth" I wonder.

Because when a man loves "truly" it is "true",
It is great, transcends beyond time, and is hailed.
When a woman loves a man "truly" it is wrong,
It shouldn't be because the one who loves can't accept it.

A man's "love" has to be accepted, whether it is for
The body or the soul; a woman's love cannot be,
Because it is a woman's love;
Because she may not be beautiful or doesn't fit
The standards of beauty, or because the  man thinks
She is too common a person to have any rights to be loved back.

The man's "love" has to be accepted, because it will "protect"
And worthy all throughout the life.
Woman's love can't protect, doesn't count as worthy,
Doesn't have any value. Does it?
She should have no choices, of her own, rather than
To wait in vain to be loved back, to endure without question,
Or demands, for the so called man who "loves" her,
While he may be busy sharing "true love" with as many
People as he pleases.

She shouldn't demand to be loved,
She shouldn't tell frankly how much she loves,
But only hide every fiery tear and drink it,
And accept that she has no rights to wish,
To give and take true love, from some man someday
When he comes if he pleases and finds her measurements apt.

The man can try hard, and preach "love the ones who love you",
Because he wants to "win" the "object" of his love and keep
Her as a prisoner all throughout her life;
(This woman who is the "object of his "true" love" is supposed
To be content with her domestic prison because he earns
And can't have any identity on her own, because he is enough
For the two of them.)

If the woman tries hard, believes in love, the world laughs at her,
Makes remarks, considers her motives bad, even if there isn't one.
The woman herself is rejected, treated badly with words and actions,
Only because she loved, made the effort to keep it alive and made
The effort to admit it despite knowing the consequences.
(Nobody gives points for these.  But criticises her for loving somebody,
Including the one she loves.)
Her only fault was to love and wish to be loved back.

When a woman loves and wishes to be loved back,
Everybody gives her lessons about the value of sacrifices
And that people should not expect.
But when a man loves and expects to be loved back,
As if it is his birthright, and hurts mentally and physically,
If a woman refuses, why doesn't anybody teach him,
The value of sacrifices and the need to learn to let go?
Is letting go only meant for women?
Can't men let go of their "love" (or ego)?
Do only women have to be "selfless" and let go of everything?
(Ya and be princessy rather than be obstinate according to others?)

Why is labelled bad, even if she has gone to the extremes of pain
And endured everything silently, but still has faith in love?
Why is her actions questioned, and only her actions and not the man's,
Who may actually take revenge on a refusing woman by all means?
Why is it so unfair and biased?
Why can't a woman make a choice about her love?
Why can't the one who she loves accept it and acknowledge it,
Rather than hurting her by words and actions?

"True love" seems to be biased. So unfair.
Better not to love with all your heart,
It may be even better to just pretend and use.
It may just be even better to use and throw away,
Mercilessly; because when a woman believes in love,
Keeps it safe, makes efforts and has to take all the pain
And taunts and has to go through whatever battles, just because
She is a woman, it is simply unfair.
If love is true, I cannot be denied my choices be it love or
Anything, just because I am a woman.......

Sunday, May 24, 2015

How love dies...

Love dies when we stop talking,
Love dies when we stop being with each other,
Love dies when we seek others when we are so close,
Love dies when you leave me alone for someone else.

Should I wait for you life long?
For the love which is already dead?
Love cannot be resurrected, 
Can it be? 

What if, I didn't wait and you came back,
Won't our love be dead for ever?
But I have been waiting for so long,
You seem to have forgotten me, 
Or are you just deliberately oblivious? 

Sometimes I feel, are you worth all these 
Pain and struggle, of finding hope amidst hopelessness?
Sometimes I feel may be you are the one, 
And this is only a sad phase. 
Are you really; now I doubt.
We never talk, we never listen, 
To each other, but drift away everyday.

Miracles just don't happen in love,
Torn by everybody possible;
You, me and everybody else. 
If only it were just the two of us,
Would this love be dead?

Was there love at all;
Now I doubt. 
I don't know, was it there?
Is it really dead? But how can it die, 
If at all it wasn't alive in the first place? 

PS : Probably it is dead and forgotten.
Love doesn't rise again once lost.
It is a lost treasure,
All you can do is to believe for sometime 
And then stop believing;
Miracles happen only in fairy tales.
It is very bitter to wait for somebody
Who will never turn up.
Who never even looks upon you
But adores someone else and strays away,
Betrays shamelessly and without guilt.
Yes it takes tears to heal the severe pain;
But someday you will be honestly happy,
That he didn't turn up and left you for someone else. 

Thursday, May 14, 2015

The other you

The other you exists,
But in my heart;
The other you keeps company,
While the real you is always away.

The other you talks to me,
The real you is always silent.
The other you asks,
"Would you like to have oranges?"
The real you do not.

The other you shares thoughts,
The real you do not,
The other you feels,
The real you refuse to feel;
Only for me.

The other you never lies,
The real you do;
The other you smiles at me,
The real you do not.

The other you sits with beside me on a wooden bench,
Watching fish climbing the walls of an ancient museum;
Or looks amazed at the fact,
That I know that flour is made from grains.
(But that's obvious!!!)

The other you looks at a full length mirror,
In a deserted shop and plans to take our picture;
The other you sits beside me in a crowded bus,
Trying to click the passing scenery,
When others look curiously at the merry company...

The other you walks with me,
Hand in hand on a moonlit night,
Along the seashore;
With waves drenching our feet...

The other you is always with me;
The real you is never;
The other you has my heart,
The real you doesn't want it.

The other you I feel happy with,
Gives me memories to last long,
The real you finds them with someone else;
The other you cares for me,
The real you doesn't give a damn;

The other you I love a lot,
The real you loves somebody else.
The other you I still dream of;
Alas you exist only in dreams now.

The real you is here,
But never near;
The real you is somebody else's;
Will always be...

Snatched away from me,
Was a dream so beautiful;
Denied to me were moments,
To make memories to cherish;
Lost in time, lost in actions,
Separated by reasons unknown,
I have lost you for a lifetime,
And forever.

Only if the other you were real...

Sunday, May 3, 2015

My lifeline

The keeper of my sorrows,
The friend of blotched letters,
Written in tears;
The one who comforts me in loneliness,
The only witness to my solitary tears,
I fill your lovely pages
With my selfish sorrows,
Doesn't it hurt badly?
Or are you bored?
I am really sorry dear diary;
What would have I done without you!
My lifeline......

Friday, January 23, 2015


The heart has gone empty,
Robbed of words,
Feelings no longer exist,
I only feel pain.

What has befallen me I wonder,
Why this again?
I don't want this, 
For I don't have the strength.

Could my heart be empty if I still feel the pain?
I don't know the answer, 
All I know is that I don't know anything anymore.

Where are the answers I seek;
Deep down in my heart, 
But how can an empty heart give an answer?
Or is the empty heart the answer?

I keep going, the heart empty still,
Which I don't hope to refill;
Seems like the engulfing loneliness 
Has become my companion.

Amidst all the laughter I force,
I seek it, long for it;
Revel when I find it;
Ofcourse it was forced upon me;
By those who did't want me;
But with time I have come to like it,
As the only true companion I have.

My emptiness, loneliness, silence...
I don't know what to do with them.
Lessons have been learned;
But always painful;
Always the same;
The realization that the world doesn't want me,
Makes me wonder if I want the world at all.
If it was always me and me alone, 
Why would I want the world?
I don't have the answer.

Is it emptiness or darkness?
I was forbidden the light.
So like the poet said once,
I have come to terms with the darkness.
I don't know if I will ever like the light,
Or prefer the darkness, given an option.

I don't know if I will like the laughter 
Or the tears in my eyes better, 
Given a chance to laugh again.
I don't know if I like to be tender,
Or callous, to everything;
Whether I will like colours or monochrome,
Sounds or silence or that lonliness or companionship;
Given an option; only I don't have an option.
Do I wish I had one? I don't know. 

Sometimes paths bifurcate, 
Leaving options to choose one;
Sometimes there are no paths at all,
What should one do then? 
Make a path or just retreat?
I don't even know where those paths will lead to.

Is this ignorance part of the emptiness?
The empty heart is better probably,
No relations to bother about, 
No hills to cross, no tunnels to be made.
No reasons to cry, no reasons to laugh.
Just icy cold emptiness, no music, 
No tune, all but silence.
I want to hide in that shell of mine
And block everything out.
Make the world dark and keep silence.
For I have forgotten how to laugh,
How to talk and how to be happy,
All I know is to be empty, 
Empty and alone in the dark......