Monday, March 15, 2010

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.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

സായാഹ്നം, ഒരു സമാധാനം...

മധുരം, ഒരു നിമിഷത്തിന്റെ.
വിലാപം, ഒരു ആയുഷ്കാലത്തെ.

വേദനയില്‍, സന്തോഷം അലയുന്നു,
അതിന്റെ ഉടമയെ തേടി.

വരുന്നോ നീ എന്‍ മാളത്തിലേക്ക്,
ഒരു കുപ്പി ഓള്‍ഡ്‌ മോന്കും ആയി?

Friday, March 5, 2010


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.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

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.