The Gifting

Mayna, playing in the courtyard
Another butterfly choosy in her 
affections, her laughter glittering
like lights for the Mother Goddess.
I am sure, when she grows up
She will grow up to be an activist
Or may be even an artist
Who knows, with all the
dark shadows that shall soon
present themselves.
But that is all much later.
For now, the future shall remain
serrated on her thighs,
Her dear flesh twinkling like
newborn stars under my aching nails.

മിന്നല്‍ക്കാഴ്ച

മ'യുടെ വളവുകളില്‍
ഒരു കയറ്റം
പിന്നെ ഴ'യുടെ ഇറക്കം
ഒടുവിലൊരു നീറ്റലായി
ഒടുക്കം.
മഴ...

Reflections

The castle is built by words
Black marble cast against a
white sky..
I am the prisoner
and the princess.

Footfalls of an Angel

Oh Springtime, will you make
your feet generous?
Make your shy blossoms
break in a riot of myriad hues?
To tread these barren acres of sand
...And give hope to those ,
In whose eyes
the sun is about to set?
Will you capture the wandering breeze
And sway, to shed his moist breaths
On to these chapped,aching lips..
Will thou join thy hands with mine?
And march together to
the red streak,
to hold the beckoning hands
when the threatening cold
strikes.

Unsaid

If fingers weaved a story
And they could speak..
Each of them
would have waxed eloquent
About
...a thousand things
that the tongue
would hesitate
to tell.

Thus rained your love

Remember the day we met
Forever?
You had the rain in your hair
You Held the musky wind
in your scent..
...When our lips did meet,
I could taste ,the husky sting
of a man unloved.
That was also the day
I came to know
What was it for the Earth
To feel the drench.

Bleeding Chalice

"..The woman is blessed
to bleed
five days a month.

To bleed
what is impure,
...what is not born,
and aborted from expression.

For she cannot ,
Bleed otherwise.
Either in her reality
Or in her dreams.

Even the Gods knew;
Open wounds infect,
Irrespective of gender.
Bless them."

Snake song

Life is a narrow road
When it's the skin
of a female snake
you wear.

No matter how venomous,there is
always that skilled Snake catcher
with his angry makud ,full of bewitching
music you never hear,
his turban,with that wild scent
that makes you want to weave
in and out of his every hair..

He makes gestures,you dance
and you finally fall
into the deep darkness
of that perpetual jute sack
Life's over.

So shed the skin,just Be,
let nature do the sorting.
but wear the clinking bangles
swap the colourful clothes,
hiss your songs,wade in the waters
be naked in the light of the moon
and dance the love dance
to your own tune.

But never ever shed the skin ,
where someone can see.
Or else they tag you
and send you in exile.

The River doesn't change for you and me

Why would i wish to come back,

If not for the warmth of your love

and the lush green fields

that saw the birth of my first lines..

Why would i choose

to be a banished pilgrim

in this contradicting world

if not to worship the memories

and the self you gave me.

I know I'll have to relive this

Again and again,till the very end

You may deny this,may even misconstrue

Like the Earth,you can nourish and then

forget

But the river doesn't change

Between you and me.

the silver cord tying me to u can't lie

Can't mislead,I'll have to come back

But i don't mind,can't wind up

Because this is a Journey

That tells me who i am

This is a path of mirrors

Which shows me a little girl

Who missed the lovely brown curls

that shone like tiny specks of sunlight

On her mother's soft forehead .