Money - A Rear View

'Money' - Boy, it's like a whore. You regret having an addictive relationship with it.

'Money' - A specially treated paper, with the rich smell of sweat and blood.

'Money' - Makes you think, mostly stupid.

'Money' - The more you want, the lesser it feels.

'Money' - Mused by man, abused by politicians

'Money' - It will shine on you, posthumous.

'Money' - Is an affair, people like to keep it secret.

'Money' - Puts smile on your face, every month-end. And smiles back at you, the very next day.

'Money' - Can buy almost everything. But why?

Damned, if...

Damned, if I had to be reborn everyday.
Be in the company of strangers for years.

Damned, if I had to listen to the same cliche
And sing along.

Damned, if I had to change.

Tornado inside

Mind opens. Thoughts explode. Words unravel.
They all come together and the battle continues. Within.

Perfect misfits

Lives invaded, soil imported and roots shaken, they were all confined within the colonial walls of some-nothings.

The breeze wandering in perplexed thoughts...
The trees, stood still breathing the air that belogned to the museum of morons.

Asphalt, laid on like the red carpet, camouflaged the blood stains.
After all, it was a magical wonder in the making...
And the world watched it with awe.

Like the soil, the breeze, the trees, let's fall prey not again and surrender to where the wild calls.

Extraterrest-real

It's a plot no man can decipher
For he is just an agent sent from nowhere

In the end, it won't be just you and me
But also entities from places never seen

The monster is still asleep deep down the sea
Or maybe in few chosen bellies

It's not far, neither close
Wherever this is, it's flashing the worse

The enlightened are awaiting
Without knowing what's coming

On the third day, the reality beams
And a new chapter, for sure begins...

Sell fish, sell anything.The bottom line is...

Deep down in the ocean, the fishes, small and big believed that the sea was their kingdom, only until they kissed the nets of the fishermen which appeared to them like castles. Some entered in hope, while some in their quest for adventure.

Little they knew about the men above the sea, who needed their lives to keep themselves alive. Fighting the storm, cursing the sun, they all ferried in merry, for their faith in Mother Ocean was unswerving.

Some men (the sober ones) believed that the fishes were made for people like them so that they could earn a living out of it. The others thought fishes were nothing but something that hated to make compromise with them.

Greed made a man rich, but need made him honest.

Out there in the paddy fields, the scarecrows stood tall throughout the day, through out the night. They were given a makeover once in a while so that they functioned as per the greed/need of the farmer. The scarecrow withstood the rains, the summer, and the winter. They finally found themselves in the shades of the mango tree, as the harvesters came into the scene.

The harvest did not meet the expectations of the farmers, as their needs also grew with their age. Still, at the end of the day they settled with what they had, cursing the bright blue sky that cast a spell over their heads…

Life continues…

Greed made a man rich and need made him selfish.

സായാഹ്നം, ഒരു സമാധാനം...

മധുരം, ഒരു നിമിഷത്തിന്റെ.
വിലാപം, ഒരു ആയുഷ്കാലത്തെ.

വേദനയില്‍, സന്തോഷം അലയുന്നു,
അതിന്റെ ഉടമയെ തേടി.

വരുന്നോ നീ എന്‍ മാളത്തിലേക്ക്,
ഒരു കുപ്പി ഓള്‍ഡ്‌ മോന്കും ആയി?

RED. RED. RED.

Red sky. Red earth.
Red clouds. Red paths.

Red rule. Red glory.
Red mountains. Red boundaries.

Red reasons. Red thoughts.
Red face. Red race.

Red ideologies. Red realities.
Red faith. Red fight.

Red dreams. Red scars.
Red rivers. Red baptisms.

Red people. Red life.
Red sword. Red blood.

Red word. Red truth.

ഒരു നോട്ടം...

ഒരു വേനല്‍ പക്ഷിയുടെ കാത്തിരുപ്പ് പോലെ...
കരിവിളക്കിന്റെ കറുത്ത തിരി പോലെ...

കാര്‍മേഘങ്ങളെ പിളര്‍ക്കും പോലെ...
ആദ്യ മഴ ചൊരിയും മണ്ണിന്റെ മണം പോലെ...

ഇടവ മാസത്തിലെ ഇരുട്ടിന്റെ ശബ്ദം പോലെ...
വെട്ടു കല്ലില്‍ കടഞ്ഞ കിണറിന്റെ ആഴം പോലെ...
അതിലെ പാറക്കിടയില്‍ ജ്വലിക്കുന്ന ചന്ദ്രനെ പോലെ...

അവളുടെ മിഴികള്‍...

The Sharp Contrast.

Wishes come to men, at a time most untimely. Some call it hallucinations, and some, stupidity.

As a boy, he wished to be a man. As a man, he wished to be a saint. In summer, he wishes for rain. In winter, he wishes for the sun.

The heart, once again wins the battle! It is curious, and yes, very much cunning. It travels or rather hops continuously knowing not where it would halt. Free like the albatross, his escapades take him to new terrains of pain and pleasure.

When the expectations are close to nothing, here comes the salvage; it's called the new wish...The wish to see. The wish to feel. The wish to live.

Life, In Strokes.

His hands mapped almost every goose bump on her body. The evening light, fighting not to depart, stood still to savour her glittering smile.

Intensity, in all its purest form arose like a million suns, deep in her eyes.
The pain. The love. The hate. The faith. And the fate, all came together, tightlipped.

Every stroke slithering hurriedly to release their agony of non-existence, came alive as his brush and mind exploded in the canvas.

Soul Defragmented

Innocence is like a lamb that lives at the mercy of its master. Redeem it, and start all over again. It's a hot white canvas at the helm. Crash ahead and play it the way you always wanted.

Rules? They are made to deceive. Critics? They are your dark side; pledge your ears carefully. Dreams? They are like a mirage that breaks open new barriers. Change? It's a temporary mask that camouflages reality. Transform- perhaps that's what is closest to compromise.

Go, the time is yours.

Yes, because I love you...

They share almost everything that comes between the earth and the sky. Be it the rains, the heat, the storm. They hardly complain about road-like driveways, bustling traffic, soaring temperatures and politics. The woman, who's in her twilight years, runs a coffee shop besides the newly opened dusty bypass road. She has a lean, light-brown 4-legged companion, some call him and his likes 'stray dogs'.

As the first truck stops by for a refreshing cuppa, his ferocious woofing becomes her daily wake-up call. He's a bit more than a friend to the woman. They talk. They fight. But their love is truly enviable.

On a hot and sunny afternoon, an orange seller who stopped by for a caffeine break, offered an orange to the woman. With a sudden rush, the woman looked around and yelled her heart out to offer a slice of bliss to her only friend. And with pure hesitation the stray boy sniffed the peel and accepted the woman' s offer with 100% discontent. For his love for her was beyond the taste of the orange.

Change. And you have precisely 6 months.

Those were the last few words of the head chef hovering in the mind of the newly joined cook of a star hotel. The cook went back to the kitchen thinking of the days when his recipes were the ones that pleased the taste buds of the kings and the queens of his era.

His aspirations were shredded into pieces like those tender chicken found in a soup. His dishes were no more considered as hot-selling stuff or the choice of the new-age globe-trotting someones.

Onions & potatoes were now competing with the gold rates, and the cook still dreamt of making onion salads... The head chef''s comments came like a monster that was waiting for his prey, he said, "Why in hell's sake don't you think big and different?" Unfortunately or fortunately, the cook had never in his life touched any of those biographies or success stories of the world's best chefs.

Whilst cutting the vegetables, the cook was wondering whether he should learn cuisines like Chinese, Thai, Italian, etc... And for some time he felt as if he was jinxed in a world that's null and void. He thought he existed in a vacuum space, where he saw the head chef criss-crossing a knife like the sword of a gladiator.

With a loud bang in his ears, the head chef's voice once again intruded like a drop of oil that was taking a roller-coaster ride in the water pool. The head chef said, "Today we are gonna surprise our customers with the dishes that delighted the orient world." The cook still perplexed in his thoughts; as to why was one forced to eat something that someone had liked somewhere.

This thought kept coming in his mind very often, and the day it burst like a volcano, he decided to call it off and get out of the delusions that overpowered his courage & beliefs. He went on and walked the path, which was not the eleventh commandment imposed on him...

And never mind, if it took 6 months or 6 years to reach somewhere...

Walking Zombies

The day seems nothing
The night falls unknowing

They slept into darkness
And called it the future

There's time, they believed
So they slept full of greed

Time chased them faster
But hardly they felt the hunger

Awake now said the wind
Awake now said the rain
Awake now said the drought

Nothing could wake them up
For prejudice has eaten them inside-out

Lord Dictator

He decides, you abide.
In his kingdom, there's only
one right and one wrong.

You are his creation,
So is the universe.

The world is fighting for peace
and it's democracy in place.

So, tell me who's ruling who?

Anger Inherited

As they tread on the paths of glory
chopping the dreams fully knowing

Little they realised the taste of agony
That was brooding in the minds of growing

Go home inherit some courageous thinking
For you are sinking in the fear of losing

And the day comes when repentance becomes no epiphany
Try to fight and stand the catastrophe