Today i sit down to write on the last day of this yr. this day does not mark any difference to me from any other days. it does not tell me that i ve to change today and tomorrow be the same ,it does not tell me that i am weak or great . No, it simply tells me that to be alive, able to do routine things, to smile, to understand , to be with ppl who spent their entire lives raising me and now am able to make them smile ... this is life ... wat comes in the future is also life .. but the grass is green where i am i know .. i do not see the other pastures greener than mine, kos god has made them all the same.
love & prayers.
anu kalikal
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
The Tin Can Men
They sat in tuna tin cans
Squeezing themselves to leak out.
They grappled with ideas that
Made them prodegies, but still
They rotated within their cans.
Someone once told of a man,
Who lived outside the can.
He gave his stained palms
To the men inside the cans.
And then they saw their past in vain
And gave this man outside the can,
Their breath and gains....
It changed the tin can men into a Man.
Squeezing themselves to leak out.
They grappled with ideas that
Made them prodegies, but still
They rotated within their cans.
Someone once told of a man,
Who lived outside the can.
He gave his stained palms
To the men inside the cans.
And then they saw their past in vain
And gave this man outside the can,
Their breath and gains....
It changed the tin can men into a Man.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Its midnight
Its midnight and all's asleep,
Am lying in my bed,
My eyes on the small hand of the clock.
The sound of the AC is humming into my ears.
My eyelids close and open,
Not from sleep but without sleep.
My leg make small circles on my mattress.
My fingers count down the seconds
Along with the clock.
Am watching time;
Time is watching me.
Tonight we are companions;
Freinds from birth.
The day is dawning and my night watch is over.
There are more nights to watch;
But first I must face the day;
For then only comes night,
Where I am free to watch time,
And let it slip between the closing of my eyes.
Am lying in my bed,
My eyes on the small hand of the clock.
The sound of the AC is humming into my ears.
My eyelids close and open,
Not from sleep but without sleep.
My leg make small circles on my mattress.
My fingers count down the seconds
Along with the clock.
Am watching time;
Time is watching me.
Tonight we are companions;
Freinds from birth.
The day is dawning and my night watch is over.
There are more nights to watch;
But first I must face the day;
For then only comes night,
Where I am free to watch time,
And let it slip between the closing of my eyes.
This is another one i wrote some days after jan 26
Death sperates us at this time,
There was a time when we played,
When we laughed and dreamt the best for each other.
The time when u held my hand when i got scared.
The time when i told you things will work out fine.
Now I am here writing to myself, reading to myself
And stopping myself from calling out to you,
To come and read my thoughts.
I am here alone and you are there.
Far away.
Death sperates us at this time,
There was a time when we played,
When we laughed and dreamt the best for each other.
The time when u held my hand when i got scared.
The time when i told you things will work out fine.
Now I am here writing to myself, reading to myself
And stopping myself from calling out to you,
To come and read my thoughts.
I am here alone and you are there.
Far away.
The comparison
The ugliness in me sticks to the skin of my body.
I take a piece of broken glass and try to scrape it off;
Crumps of me fall in reverend circles within my shadow.
I am there in every business-man and modern executive.
Scores of me chant salutation to wired knowledge.
I lean below to see myself within four legs of breath,
My soul has surpassed them with labels of idiocy and uncleanness.
The image of branded shirts and crisp trousers
Do not grow well on domisticated life;
For leather ties give them names and castes,
That do not cater to be called sensible.
They are the unsung lives of lives loudly sung.
I take a piece of broken glass and try to scrape it off;
Crumps of me fall in reverend circles within my shadow.
I am there in every business-man and modern executive.
Scores of me chant salutation to wired knowledge.
I lean below to see myself within four legs of breath,
My soul has surpassed them with labels of idiocy and uncleanness.
The image of branded shirts and crisp trousers
Do not grow well on domisticated life;
For leather ties give them names and castes,
That do not cater to be called sensible.
They are the unsung lives of lives loudly sung.
Goodbye brother
i wrote this two months after 26th jan
Goodbye brother, goodbye dear.
U' ve set sail on a journey to the other shore.
There the sun does not set and the moon does not rise.
The sound of your voice lies fresh in my lap,
I gather it in my fingers and hold it to my bosom;
The warmth your song gives makes me smile from within.
Brother I can hear your laughter and your chiding;
They flow like a stream between my ears.
I rise whenthe sun sets in my world
And smile knowing you' ve gone to your eternal home.
Goodbye brother, goodbye dear.
U' ve set sail on a journey to the other shore.
There the sun does not set and the moon does not rise.
The sound of your voice lies fresh in my lap,
I gather it in my fingers and hold it to my bosom;
The warmth your song gives makes me smile from within.
Brother I can hear your laughter and your chiding;
They flow like a stream between my ears.
I rise whenthe sun sets in my world
And smile knowing you' ve gone to your eternal home.
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