Dark Plight.

Dark clouds expand the sea towards the sky.

Rain intensifies the morbid dusk.

Shore is silent. Waves went meek.

I’m narrowed down to a lifeless mannequin,

staring to a lone boatman faraway in the sea.

I'd fallen to a deep dark plight.

[Silence]

I did travel to my old misty dreams where – I was not alone,

Where I’d a shoulder to lean back, a countenance to fix my glue,

a smile to hold dear,

a happiness to be with, and;

sweetness of a wet lip that ignited a fire to live my all hopes.

When I turn back –

I miss my liveliness to be cheerful.

I miss a path which always had taken me to an unforced grin.

I miss a spring where two hearts pounded to be the same.

I miss a season of oneness.

[Silence]

Sea turned dark.

Sky turned dark.

Road back home turned dark.

I closed my eyes, I turned my vision dark.
I want to sleep with a deeper dark plight.
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I want my surprise to shine.

How long should I be impatient?

Plain pain is seeping through;

Emotions are waiting to be exploded,

Nightmares have to be hand-cuffed,

Expectations have to be plucked away.

In the dream,

Yellow-black snake turned into a dragon-fly; and it flew into my eyes.

Hush puppies harmlessly bit my ankle.

I slept with a lady in a puffy red gown – I kissed her breast;

When I touched her hips, I saw the world revolve.

Nervousness is killing my nights,

Silence is eating my thoughts,

I’m being tied to my shoes buried deep down in the mud.

I want my surprise to shine; somewhere in (my) pale blank sky.

Help. Someone please, uproot me. Throw away.

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മുടി ടെന്‍ഷന്‍!

മുടിയില്ലാതവന് മുടിയില്ലാത്തതിന്റെ ടെന്‍ഷന്‍,

മുടിയുള്ളവന് മുടി കൊഴിയുന്നതിന്റെ ടെന്‍ഷന്‍,

മുടി കൊഴിയാതവന് മുടി നരക്കുന്നതിന്റെ ടെന്‍ഷന്‍! 

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Happy B'day Mia.

Mia could get high by a mere thought of her favourite Black Dog Scotch Whisky. She liked mint flavoured cigarettes too. Puffing out a large plume of smoke onto my face, Mia once said: “I want to free from all clutches of this world, I don’t want to live a typical [Catholic] woman who ultimately fall slave to her husband. I don’t want to wash anyone’s underwear. I want to let loose my self, I want to nullify my existence, and I want to fly!”

I was beaming at her quick changing expressions, which was in a way, animated along momentary frowns well poised with her talk. Seeing my eyes gluing to hers, she took a second puff and said: “But, you’re a pain in my ass. And you pervert don’t look at me like that!”

She loved to be alone. She loved loneliness.

She last called me on her Birthday one year back from her home; she told that she would be moving to Glasgow soon. I waited her call on her this birthday; but I didn’t get any. I’m sure that she’d be brewing her own happiness in a place she is close to her two most likes – Scotch and Loneliness.

Happy B'day Mia. [ Sorry, that I couldn't post it on the same day. ]
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Have you lived the day?

A day smiles; a day cries. A day can be a beach carnival or a requiem in a grave. Amen. Someone is born. Someone is dead. A day is the whisper you hear in your ears, a flicker you see before your eyes until you don’t; a day is a breath you can’t hold dear. You can’t define your day, but you can certainly live up to. Live being you as far as you can, if there is a tomorrow you can say – Yesterday I lived the day!
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Monsoon is Greening Here!

The colour of Monsoon is green. When Monsoon invades with its lunatic wind and fierce supremacy all my senses get drenched, it conjures me to be in its magical delight till I see the blue sky once again. Until then my colour is green, my happiness is green, and my dreams illuminate in green. I get displaced from reality.

These days, other than the green slimy frogs which croak-sitting on the newly shaped red mud heaps-I see every image in green. I see the vegetation around me in never ever seen freshest green shades– may it be the creepers or the soul cleansed thick-wood trees which stand soaked; welcoming their sprouting infant leaves. Green is more greeny now…

I see green in its all exquisite splendour. I see newer greens in the grass, shrubs, and the moss. I see the fresh green in drenched guava leaves, mango trees and in the papaya orchards. I see the green a little more greener- similar to a green which you would probably imagine if I ask you to think of a virgin rain forest in a far off island not necessarily named after an emerald.

The relentless Monsoon always awakes my most surrealistic dreams in green. I saw a dream in which I was in a paddy field, which was a whimsical green expanse stretching far to a lake flowing by the side of a mountain- which made me impatient to explore my newly popped up desire to see the shade of green in my foreseen meadow of dreams across- seen in distance.

I saw a woman who had a familiar face, even though I couldn’t recognise who she was, as I instantly fall into a trance seeing her or might got trapped in her enchanting charm that let my vision go blurry. Yet I could feel she was young and beautiful as every man would dream to be with in a rainy night and beyond. 

She was draped in a green saree (I’m least surprised, as it is frequent in the fantasies of all Indian men). She was walking towards me, but not in the mandatory slow motion as it would require in a dream sequence of an Indian film. She was holding a large plantain leaf over her head; in the sky, clouds were shaping up behind her. She was nearing to me looking straight into my eyes to which I stood frozen skipping a beat or two of mine. What else you need to visualise a typical cuddled-cupid-couple-dance in rain, all set in the backdrop of green...  it’s Indian Greenery! (Shrugs)

This monsoon green is more greener! Green is the colour of longing.  Green is the colour of hope. Green is colour of the distance which separates me and my desires. The Green is once again pushing me to go behind my dreams – greenhuedreams! Green soothes me now above all caresses. It’s a wicked monsoon and it’s greening here!

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വീണ്ടും മഴയോടൊപ്പം...

വീണ്ടും മഴ.

മഴയോടൊപ്പം ഇന്നലെയും, ഇന്നും, നാളെയും...

ഇന്നലെ. 

മഴ തിമിര്‍ത് പെയുമ്പോഴും മഴയ്ക് ഒരു നിശബ്ധത ഉണ്ടായിരിന്നു. 

ഇടമുറിയാതെ പെയുന്ന മഴയുടെ ശ്രുതിയിലലിഞ്ഞു ഞാന്‍ പതിയെ വഴുതിവീഴുന്നത് പൂര്‍ണമായ നിശബ്ധതയിലെക്  ആയിരുന്നു.

ഇവിടെയും  തനിച്ചൊരിടം തരാതെ പ്രണയിനി, നീ തന്നെയായിരുന്നു എന്നും അരികില്‍.

അന്ന് നനവിന്റെ സുഖമുള്ള ഒരു കാറ്റ് നമ്മളെ ഒരുമിപിച്ചിരുന്നു.
നമ്മള്‍ മഴയില്‍ ലയിച്ചിരുന്നു.

ഇന്ന്.

മറവിയിലാണ്ടുപോയ  പ്രണയവും, പ്രണയാഭിനെശവും, 

നിന്നെ മാത്രം പുണരാന്‍ കൊതിച്ചചിരുന്ന  യൗവനവും, ചുംബനങ്ങളും, ഇന്നലെയുടെ താളുകളിലെക്യു തുന്നിചെര്‍ത്ത് തനിചോരിടത് ഞാന്‍ ഇരികുമ്പോള്‍, മഴ വീണ്ടും പെയ്തു.

മനസ്സില്‍ പെയ്ത മഴ എന്നെ കൂട്ടി  കൊണ്ട് പോയത് ആ പഴയ നിശബ്ധതയിലെക്  തന്നെയായിരുന്നു. അതെ  ഓര്‍മയുടെ പാതയോരത്, മഴയുടെ നനവ്‌ പറ്റി, നനഞ്ഞ മുടിയിഴകള്‍ നെറ്റിയില്‍പറ്റിച്ചു, അതെ നിര്‍വികാരമായ  നോട്ടവുമായി, എന്നിലെക്ക്  ആര്‍ത്തിരമ്പി പെയ്യാന്‍ വെമ്പുന്ന മഴകാലമായി  നീ വരുമെന്ന് എനിക്ക് ഉറപ്പായിരുന്നു.

നീ വന്നു...

നാളെ.

പ്രണയിനിയെയും, പ്രണയത്തെയും, തിരികെ തന്ന  മഴ തുടര്‍ന്നുകൊണ്ടേയിരിക്കും  എന്നും പ്രതീക്ഷിക്കുന്നു...
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(Based on today's morning dream.)