Saturday, September 8, 2018

Nine Paintings

This is a portrait of a dying plant,
It stands in agony, shrivelled;
A drought consumed its dreams,
And wayside it lay, no one to tend,
On soil red, ground for a year barren.

We know not who she was,
But her beauty persists like a childhood memory;
Her lips were red, eyes blue,
We recall- she was beautiful surely?
Five nights you think otherwise, but let her be.

It could be a nightmare, but you stayed awake.
It lingers on for days, and when your red-eyes shut,
You are woken up by the very image.
Your love bought it for you to keep, a parting gift,
And it haunts like a fateful night, the clock stuck at half past eight.

The war ended a few years ago,
But the memory of violence remains still,
The child lies dead on a mother's lap,
The field is red, and the sky a grey,
We can remember if we will. But we can forget.

You want it to be something,
But did the artist care to mean?
There's a riot of colours, a splash of green and red,
This is art we concur,
But our education isn't enough. Maybe despite it, we can.

The king ruled for a hundred years
He was a fat man of red vengeance.
He killed a million, tortured more,
In his name men raped and ravaged,
But he built these temples of old stone, with no concrete.

It is your city ninety years ago,
A tram line runs on Mount road,
Men wear turbans and carry a stick;
There are no other oppressors in sight,
Except for a name board in bright red. Can you read?

Agape, bright pinks and reds, made up and blown,
Neon light highlights, do you want to buy some more?
Maybe sell your soul or your house,
For a scratch of ecstasy, a bit of debauchery,
Or maybe a house built on a lake to drown your dreams.

For the third step there was nowhere,
Except for August on the calendar;
Will Mahabali comeback and stand upright?
There's an umbrella, there are signs,
You note the date in red and decide to sleep in late.

Tuesday, June 12, 2018


There is now,
And this is my evermore.
The clocks remain still,
And the hands that move them have no will.

There's a breeze that blows from the south-west,
The homeless set their beds on bus-stop benches,
And the last bus passes by- no one to get out or in-
You can't miss a bus that never stops, rushing past.

The bats flutter across the sunset,
As dark as night, elegant and intent,
So what if you can't see, just listen,
The world is cat's ball of wool, strings set free.

The horns blare and race,
There are homes elsewhere,
There are midnight cravings, and moments of hope,
There's somewhere to be now, and else on the morrow.

The signals blink amber, look and proceed they beg,
But the blinding light race as fast and as far,
There's this moment where you see it all as a distant star,
You look and chase, and it is still far away, this is evermore.

The dog packs give chase with rage brewed all day,
The tea stalls that threw them biscuits remain still;
There are no masters, there's no art, or other living in the now-
Pulled by gravity, torn by speed, to remain in evermore.

There's a weak crescent moon rising at a distant shore,
The waves never remain still, even in evermore.

The caws of the sleepless try to drown the aircon,
But the summer air is too hot, and the crows too tired,
They try and as they might, to say a bit more,
But all you can do is, live, and hope, in evermore.

There is now,
And this is my evermore.
The clocks remain still,
And the hands that move them have no will.

This is now,
And this is my evermore.

This is evermore.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Write me a eulogy when I am no more

Write me a eulogy when I am no more.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more,
Read it aloud to yourself, my l'amour.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more,
Tear it up and scatter it with the winds,
Let me be unknown, let me be evermore.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more,
Tell them who I am, and the sparkle in my eyes,
That of me which may ever die. Burn the paper,
Wear the ashes, let me never be known.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more,
Believe that I may be in a better place,
Forget your pain in joys that we have known.
Rest a while, reread and rewrite,
Till I fade away like a falling star, that once shone.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more,
Find me in my drafts, bind them together,
Let no one know who I was, or where I am;
Find a place with no breeze, Earth broken,
Lay them six feet under, with no epithet,
No stone, to be eaten away by time, alone.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more.
Close your eyes, and in the darkness see me,
Don't forget, for we are nothing but memories
when long gone; scattered bits of paper,
Fading ink- into a million pieces, torn.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more,
Hear me breathe in the evening breeze,
Tall coconut trees, and rowdy parakeets,
The smell of home, camphor and beach.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more,
Let me go, set me free, but hold on to our memories,
Find me in the evening dew, find me in evermore.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more,
Read it aloud to yourself, my l'amour.

Write me a eulogy when I am no more.

Wednesday, December 20, 2017


A hundred years of Solitude,
A lifetime of Silences,
A forever that outlasts itself,
A time immeasurable and immense.

To hold the world in the palm of your hands,
To count the breaths as if to measure the winds,
To see the world in three steps and no more,
To hear nothing, but the voice- your own.

அறிந்தது உணர்வு, உணர்வின் மயக்கம்,
தன் இன்பத்தின் மோகம் பெறுக,
வடிவம்பெறா வையம் கற்பிக்க
தன் இழந்து தான் அறியும் வழி.

To behold beauty in all you see,
To find peace within, amidst volatility,
To yearn to live albeit the terror and malice,
To seek meaning for itself, forthright.

To be yourself, and be all that you are,
To seek not desire, nor despair,
To hold still the world, unshaken, unstirred,
To let be, to let be, as it is, as it can be. 

தஞ்சம் பெற, தன் குறிக்கும் நீதி பெற,
தன் வழி அறிய தான் மனம் ஏங்குக.
திரை எல்லை கடந்து அகம் அறிந்தோர்க்கு எல்லாம்,
அமைதியில்  நிற்க, நிற்படுத்த, அறிவார் முடிவிலி.

Tuesday, October 10, 2017


There are no words,
Only silences.

There are dreams,
That live till the memory fails.

There is love,
A memory written in your cursive.

There is the nothing,
A lifetime without silences.

There is I,
Upright, and alone.

There is hope,
That lingers as a long lost dream.

There is a memory,
An evanescent winter.

There is Madras,
Home, and all that I know.

There are no words,
Only silences.

There are silences,
Those that I call my own.

Monday, June 5, 2017


Tell me my name,

So I never forget.

Remind me who I am,

Lest I become someone else.

Tell me our love,

Hold my hands and never let go.

Let me look into your eyes,

To find my better self, evermore.

Tell me your name,

In whispers, slowly.

Let us abandon,

The measured tenses of coerced civility.

Tell the clocks to forget us,

As if the night has no memory.

Let time stay afar to watch,

This moment that lasts as ours.

Tell the world to look away,

We are but shadows in sway puppetry.

Let us search for a star light,

A shimmy a'small on the twilight.

Tell no one who we are,

Lest they try to find us.

Let us remain as we are,

Unbound and limitless.

Tell the infinity to hold itself,

A'life of calm till it becomes breathless.

Nothing remains but us,

An ode to our Amadeus.

Tuesday, April 4, 2017


Tonight, can we forget our politics,
Can we forget the different things we believe in,
the Gods we worship and don't.

Tonight, can we feel ourselves to be human,
Can we let silence dance and tickle our senses a bit?

Tonight, can we have a moment of quiet oneness,
A small rock under a vast and infinite sky,
So ignorant that we know not how little we know.

Tonight, can this be all that lasts,
For a moment's peace is worth all our belief.

Tonight, can we let tonight be,
Stay a while, and be you and me,
Our hope, our lives, different only relatively.

Tonight can be,
Let us be tonight.



Sunday, February 12, 2017


To hold the world in the palm of your hand,

To see tomorrow as a dream,

To wake up to find yourself as infinity,

To be I,

To be you,

To be.

Belief lasts, as long as you choose to,

And the world is all you believe it to be.

Life's but a waking dream,

Infinity, a pursuit that lasts itself.

தான் மறந்து,

ஆற்றல் எழுந்து,

அகண்ட புணர்ச்சி.

நிற்பதுவும் அகமே,

நிலையில்லா முடிவிலி.

The light shines the brightest.

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

The night and I conspire

The night and I conspire,
To never let a human be my love,
Ever again;

A Hope that betrays senses and joy,
A lifetime of wont manifest buried under a rubble,
So dense that nothing remains,
But the silence.

This silence is mine, and mine alone,
A line infinite, a world unbound,
We live breath-held, 
Till neither can any more. 

If this is forever,
Then a moment is all there is,
Consciousness conspired-
To never begin nor end. 

This night and I,
We remain, we stay, we live,
The pause between her verses,
The gleam of teeth between her lips. 

Human, never. 
If she is. 

Saturday, October 22, 2016


What remains is the first light through the storm clouds,

And a heavy sigh of an old lady with ten sons

Who are nowhere, but a daughter who left her husband.

Plunder, and the world shifts, dried blood in the sands

Are swept around in swirls of remorseful history,

Tales of valour die as fast as they are born,

An instant less than the last life who knew the heroes.

She, he, whatever- the land,

It stands still, a gashed being which heals over time,

For the forests shall grow again, and the mountains shift;

The human tears dried the second they hit the parched earth.

We are transient beings who for all our vanity perish.

The world isn't the one that needs saving-

In our thirst we shall drink each others' blood,

In our hunger, dig the jaws into ourselves.

Our history is for us and our future, beyond,

The books shall rot, and shall lose form,

The web shall tangle itself, gnarled

Listless, powerless, strangle itself.

Humanity- you, I, we-

We are ugly and beautiful-

We shall be gone all too soon,

The mirror shall have none to tell the truth.

The ruins shall have no admirers,

And there will be no mighty lord to beget a son

Who can take you to lands or planets safer-

There's no home for those who doom themselves.

Peace, peace, peace-

For who knows what's there

When no one is there to know.

Peace, peace, peace.