Mother

 Mother, I remember. 

When the carmine droplets rolled down, 

Eyes peered from under the hooded gown,

I forced a smile and nailed my feet,

On the floor that matched my beat. 

 

 A force you were, to be reckoned with,

My hero, as any child worships, 

You anchored me to this painted house, 

Forever and ever like a confined mouse. 

 

'Milk can't turn things white', you snarled. 

Milk is all I wished, what a time!

A pure white liquid with no efforts to make, 

Refused a right, that was so simple. 

 

A hero you were, wore long gracious gowns,

The laces drenched in rivers of regret,

Colored your feet with crimson cries,

When I laid there still, bare and battered. 

 

I remember, child.

One night, that blurred and slurred,

The dizzying heat, a conception in a rush,

The moment you left your cozy stay,

I offered, out of options and pay,

The dreams that danced stopped abrupt,

 And looked at me with fiery eyes.

 

You ended me, but I loved you.

I ended you, but I still loved you.

No fault of yours, but you still paid the price,

For the sins you bore from an unwelcome womb.

 

 I remember, mom.

I fathom the agony you possessed. 

I grasp the depth of your pit.

I realize the source of your tears.

But I follow your steps anyhow. 

 

You showered me with poisoned snarls,

Enslaved me in your grace and warmth,

Refused all, but taught to be quiet,

Entrapping me within this painted walls.

 

Now I wear those long gowns,

Roam around this large mansion,

Unable to leave the vivid visions,

 Always hearing your voracious voice. 

A Wish For You, After I Leave

 I will meet you, 

Where the earth rose up to meet the starry night,

Where the ground lights greet the dark air,

Where the sky rivulets flow down to touch sand. 

Alas!

If only we honor the things we wish...

My love,

Forgive me for the promises that never kept.

 

It was space that parted us first. 

Then time added onto that distance. 

We were a pair fated for separation.

We prayed to the Gods above and beyond,

To grant us a little closeness.

 

When I fly through the clouds,

I see the souls below,

Unaware of their endings,

Spending days in their happy ignorance.

 

I was one among them once, 

But I see my path's end now,

Closer with every inch of stroke of the towering clock,

With every inch my flight covers in this chilled air. 

 

An inch,

We will face an other, 

One more inch, 

We will merge with that other, 

Another inch,

We will rain onto the ground beneath,

As sparks and pieces,

With some purpose for the first time.

 

I see the ending.

I feel the ending.

As time nears,

I keep spiraling into unanswered thoughts,

Would this have been different,

If I had come another day?

If I had changed a seat?

If I hadn't smiled before getting in?

 

My love, 

This beloved is cruel,

For her to leave you hanging,

As she always does,

But for the last time.

 

I leave you alone in a world,

Where the glaciers melt,

Bombs rain,

Mountains murdered,

Forests burn.

 

After I'm gone, dear,

I want you to feel again,

How the cherry blossoms blushed when they saw the kiss, 

How the lonely maple tree came down to touch the unattended ice cream, 

The thick cold snow on the rooftop that you can't clear alone,

The umbrella under a scorching sun with shared sweats.

 

My love, 

This is my wish for you,

Before my soul departs...

Live a happy life,

Live a happy life,

Live a happy life. 

Four Sisters

 Burned Hand

It happened in a bus. 

He placed  his hand casually on my back. 

My friends, towards my left ...

His friends, in front of me ...

All eyes roamed around me and 

His hand on my back. 

I was silent.

I looked at him, still silent. 

His hand got etched into my soul and I 

Could feel the burn even today.

 

 

Gentleman

It happened in a neighbor's house.
I was learning to read. 

He was in college, exploring new things. 

His curiosity was so endless that
He wanted to know 

Whether big hands and small hands can hold him the same. 

Whether small hands are much fun, soft and innocent. 

Whether small vaginas are same as big ones. 

I remember telling him, that my vagina smells bad,

And so not to touch. 

He obeyed. 

What a gentleman. 

Rainbow 

It happened on a road. 

I was walking, thinking about why the 

Rainbow was colored. 

I was wearing a bright yellow churidhar. 

He was a biker, coming opposite to me. 

He had a dull life so much that he was wearing faded brown shirt. 

When we crossed paths, he took away my bright yellow from my left breast. 

I never worn yellow nor I thought of rainbow ever again. 

Petticoat

It happened in my home. 

I was in the terrace. 

He was hiding behind the neighbor's house. 

I could see some rhythm on the bottom part of him. 

I was in class four and haven't seen anything like that before. 

I watched him curiously to understand what was going on. 

I told mom later that day about the funny incident. 

She said: "this is what happened when you don't wear petticoat under your dress"

A Cold Inn

They were taking a hell lot of time for a simple task. 

"Oh, for the love of your fuckin' God, men, finish it already", I said impatiently.

The men looked at me annoyed, but did as I said. We walked towards the dimly lit inn were we kept our belongings. It was already a cold night and the walk through the woods isn't helping at all. I was annoyed and starving, and now cold due to the dimwits currently trailing me. 

 

It was time for dinner and pork stew greeted us on the dining table. The inn keeper's wife smiled and told us it was her husband's birthday. 

I said, "Happy birthday Mr..."

"Tommy", she said.

"Mr. Tommy. May he live a long and happy life with such a sweet and beautiful wife", I smiled at her. She blushed and gave us each a bowl of stew. It was surprisingly heavenly and made us go for seconds. 

 

I was washing my hands when she noticed the stain on my boots.

"You know, the look you're giving me is almost ravishing and if I didn't know any better, I might think you fancy me",  I said.

She blushed and replied, "No sir. There's a stain on your boots. From the hunt, I reckon? I can clean them for you if you want".

"That is so sweet of you. Please do", I said and gave her my boots.

 

When I was left with the men alone, they looked at me concerned. "Do you think she noticed?", one of them asked.

"Yeah, that's why I gave her those to clean. Where's your mind these days?", I replied annoyingly.

"You know what I mean".

"And I'm telling you it's alright. If anything is amiss, it's your incompetence. I've told you a million times to be fast and steady, and still you went and made a mess, and look where it got us! Now I've to ask a nice lady to clean my fucking boots". 

"We're sorry. It won't happen again", they said.

 "Or the next time it'll be your blood she cleans", I am growing tired of this conversation.

 

The inn keeper's wife comes with cleaned boots and smile at me. I took them and bid her good night. She seems bothered about something so I ask, "why do you look uneasy?"

"My husband...he's late. He went to collect wood and he's usually never this late", she said.

"Oh I'm sure he'll me back soon. I don't think there's anything that can keep him from his beautiful wife", I say and she blushed.

"Ring the bell if you need anything, sir", she said.

"Of course, love. But, don't offer things you can't provide", I wink at her. Satisfied to see her reddened face, I motion to the men to follow and walk to the stairs. 

 

We locked the room from inside and quietly exit through the window out to the woods, leaving the inn and the unbeknown widow behind.  

An Angel in Gaza

I know, I know, I know.

It is cruel to wait on the alive.

When it is my duty to keep you alive. 

 

We get assigned to each of you,

From the day you are bought down here,

With loves and longings,

To the day you depart ahead.

We are assigned to safe-keep you,

Till the judgement day,

And I enjoyed the duty at first,

But now I face the creeping helplessness,

Hitting us like bullets in point blank.

 

I heard the safe and secured saying,

"Everything has a first time".

I also shared many firsts with you,

I watched when you first cried,

I watched when you first walked,

I watched when you first prayed,

I watched when you first starved.

 

Alas, I didn't know we'll only get firsts.

I want to be there for your seconds,

thirds, fifths, a hundreds, 

A lifetime, not shortened by selfish men.

But what a guardian angel can do,

When the leaders play pool with your time,

Over archaic wines on mahogany tables,

For the bombs to rain,

For the shells to trigger,

For even the littlest of yous to perish.

 

I cherish what little time we have,

My new one,

Who will never taste a simple omelette, 

Cooked over the comfortable warmth of a home;

Who will never see a clear blue sky,

Devoid of flying machines;

Who will never touch a dust-free clothe;

Or breathe clean air.

 

This was supposed to bring us joy,

Oh little one,

I wait on you, to finally let go,

And to take your soul to heaven.

We'll come back on a brighter day,

And we'll have smile on our faces, not scars,

We'll live for the hundreds or more,

My little one, 

Forgive me.  

 

 

 

 

An Insomniac

There you stand at that corner, 

Curls darker than a darkest night,

Falling to your moonlit shoulders,

Pale white laces of your silky gown, 

Fiddling with the cold breeze,

Jolting me with your nightly eyes.

  

Companions we are,

Sharing the same nights,

Yet I am enamored in your light,

Desperate for your might.

 

Your gaze lingers like a fresh wound, 

Emanating the creeping pain,

From the phantom touch of a cold knife.

 

Eons passed since we parted ways,

Once I prided in my talent to touch those curls,

Now your visits took a harrowing turn,

And I watch you watch me with nonchalant eyes.

 

I hear, they sing your songs,

Of the sparkling visions you bring,

For those who possess a fearless heart,

To close their eyes to delve in you.

 

I've shown you all I have,

I've given you all I can,

Yet you remain aloof there,

A desperate reach away,

Floating farther to the closeness,

But never near, yet never far.

 

You seduce me with your dreamy stare,

Yet you evade me like a grasp of air,

You bait me with your extended hands,

Yet you deride me with your alluring laugh.

 

We keep watching all night long,

Passing unblinking glances back and forth,

When the sun kiss my still widened eyes,

A deprived carcass that lives and breathes,

Dreading what went wrong at night,

You giggle and vanish for the day,

Come night, you love this game to play. 

To Henry

 (From Clare to Henry; based on The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger)

 

Henry,

I wait for you,

Even when I'm forlorn by you.

I wait for you,

Even when I'm bereft of you.

 

I watch you slip through the cracks,

I catch you stumbling into the nows,

To places I can't follow,

To presents I can't fathom.

 

When are you in, Henry?

Where are you now?

 

I listen for creaks on the floors, 

I listen for ajarred doors,

The rustling of clothes,

The movements in air.

 

I wait, Henry,

For you to enfold me,

In the scents of flawed time,

From your unruly crusades,

Engulfed and entangled,

To the sense of free will.

 

I will drop down my reddened curls,

From the tallest of towers,

Lighting the untaken paths;

I will become the drops of rain,

That kiss those freckles,

On an unwelcomed summer day;

The greenest of grasses to safe-keep those fleets,

The warmth for your body in the wildest bites of frost.

 

Henry,

My lone traveler,

I wait for you,

For you to grasp the hands of the clock,

That left you unkempt,

And again when the time cracks, 

Voyage through the blemishes of life,

And come find me where we belong. 

 

 

ചങ്ങല

"സുനിക്കറിയുമോ എനിക്ക് ഒരുപാട് ആഗ്രഹങ്ങളുണ്ട്. ഒരുപാടെന്നു പറഞ്ഞാൽ ... ഹാ ... ഒരുപാട് തന്നെ. "

ആ സംഭാഷണം ഒരു പുഞ്ചിരിയിൽ അവസാനിച്ചു. അവൾ വളരെ സുന്ദരിയായിരുന്നു. എത്രയോ തവണ ഞാൻ ആ സൗന്ദര്യം ആസ്വദിച്ചിരുന്നിരിക്കുന്നു. അപ്പോഴൊക്കെ ഞങ്ങൾ ഒരുമിച്ചു പടുകുഴികൾ കീഴടക്കുകയും വാൻ പര്വതങ്ങളിൽ ചെന്ന് വീഴുകയും ചെയ്തു . 

അവൾ പറയുമായിരുന്നു, "ചങ്ങലക്കിട്ട ഒരാശയമാണ് ഭ്രാന്ത്, അതുകൊണ്ട് എനിക്ക് ഒരു ഭ്രാന്തിയായി തന്നെ ജീവിക്കാനാണിഷ്ടം". 

കൂടെയുള്ളവർ എന്നും അവളെ നോക്കി പരിഹസിക്കുമായിരുന്നു. അവരോടെല്ലാം അവൾക്ക് ഒരു മറുപടി മാത്രം, "നിങ്ങളെല്ലാം ഈ വലിയ ചങ്ങലയിലെ കണ്ണികളാണ്. പക്ഷെ എങ്ങനെ അവിടെ വന്നു പെട്ടെന്നുപോലും നിങ്ങൾക്കറിയില്ല. ഞാനും നിങ്ങളെപ്പോലെ ഒരു കണ്ണിയായി ഇഴുകിച്ചേരും. പക്ഷെ അന്നും എനിക്ക് എന്റെ വേരുകൾ അറിയാമായിരിക്കും". 

 

പതുക്കെ പതുക്കെ ഞാനും ഒരു ചങ്ങലക്കണ്ണി ആണെന്ന ബോധം എനിക്ക് ഉണ്ടാകാൻ തുടങ്ങി. എന്റെ ബോധത്തെ ഞാൻ ഭദ്രമായി ആശയത്തിനുള്ളിൽ ഒതുക്കി മനസിന്റെ ഇരുണ്ട അധ്യായങ്ങളിലെവിടെയോ ചങ്ങലക്കിട്ടു. 

 

ഒരു ദിവസം അവൾ എന്നെ തിരക്കിട്ട് കാണാൻ വന്നു. "സുനീ, എന്നെ അവർ ഒരു ഡോക്ടറെ കാണിച്ചു. പുള്ളി ഉറപ്പിച്ചത്രേ എനിക്ക് ഭ്രാന്താണെന്ന്! മണ്ടൻ ". അവളുടെ അന്നത്തെ ചിരി ഇന്നും എന്റെ കാതുകളെ കീഴ്പ്പെടുത്തുന്നു . "തനിക്കറിയുമോ അവർ എനിക്കായി ഒരു ചങ്ങല പണിയുന്നുണ്ട്. പക്ഷെ എനിക്ക് സമയമായിട്ടില്ല സുനീ, ഞാൻ തയ്യാറാകുന്നതിന് മുൻപേ എനിക്ക്  പോകേണ്ടിവരുമോ എന്ന് പേടി ഉണ്ട്. അതുമാത്രമാണ് എന്നെ ഭയപ്പെടുത്തുന്നത്" . 

 

വീട്ടിനുള്ളിൽ ചങ്ങലയിൽ തളക്കപ്പെട്ട അവളെയാണ് ഞാൻ പിന്നീട് കണ്ടത്. തന്റെ വലതുകാലിലെ ചങ്ങലക്കണ്ണികളെ പ്രണയിച്ചുകൊണ്ട് നിലത്തു കിടക്കുകയായിരുന്നു അവൾ. എന്നെ കണ്ടപ്പോൾ അവൾ എഴുന്നേറ്റു പുഞ്ചിരിച്ചു. "ഞാൻ സന്തോഷവതിയാണ് സുനി . ഞാൻ തയ്യാറാണ്". 

പിന്നീടവൾ പതിയെ അലിയാൻ തുടങ്ങി. തന്റെ ഒരായിരം ഭ്രാന്തുകളുമായി അവൾ കാലിലെ ആ ചങ്ങലയുടെ ഒരു പുതിയ കണ്ണിയായി ഇഴുകിച്ചേർന്നു.

 

In the time of Covid-19

 This situation is getting to me real good. 

Today I almost had a mental breakdown. But at night I patched up myself with a horror film. 

This is how things has been for a while. I get down very easily and it's a mammoth job to take me to the original position.

Everything was fine at first. Three months went smooth in a blink of an eye. The next three were like three obstinate mischievous kids. They came into my room and  started crawling under my bed at nights. They never wanted to see the sky.  So dad decided to take me out on every weekends. I got to see beyond these walls, I got to talk to one more person, I got to eat something different. 

I know working in something interesting should give me that kind of enjoyment. But things doesn't work that way. 

I felt like being creative and I did collages two nights. It helped. But it was never enough.

You can't tell me to get up and dust myself off because it doesn't work on  me like that. No success story has ever been able to inspire me. Whenever you point out of someone who fought, I feel like I'm worse; not that good.  I can never be that fighter. I'm no fighter. I've never been. And I'll never be. 

Thanks for not trying to cheer me up. 

പ്രണയലേഖനം

 ഇന്നുവരെ ചുംബിച്ചിട്ടില്ലെങ്കിലും ആ ചുണ്ടുകൾ എന്നും എന്നെ കൊതിപ്പിച്ചിട്ടേ ഉള്ളു...  

നീ നോക്കുമ്പോഴൊക്കെ ഞാൻ ആ കണ്ണുകളുടെ ആഴങ്ങളിലേക്ക് ഉരുകിയിറങ്ങുന്ന പോലെ...

നമ്മുടെ കൈകൾ ഉരസുമ്പോൾ, തോളിൽ തല ചായകുമ്പോൾ, അടുത്തിരിക്കുമ്പോൾ എല്ലാം ഞാൻ എന്നെ തന്നെ തടഞ്ഞു....

ഒരിക്കലും ഒരുമിക്കില്ലെന്ന യാഥാർഥ്യം മുന്നിലുണ്ടെങ്കിലും നീ എനിക്കായ് തുറന്നിട്ട വാതിലുകളെല്ലാം തുറന്നു തന്നെ കിടന്നു. ..

അവയൊന്നും അടയ്ക്കാതെ, അകത്തേയ്ക്കു വരാതെ, മുഖം ഉയർത്തി നോക്കാതെ ഒന്ന് പറയട്ടെ....

ഈ ലോകത്തിൽ നിനക്കായ് അല്ലാതെ മറ്റാർക്കുവേണ്ടിയാണ് ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കുക....

യുഗങ്ങളും യുഗാന്തരങ്ങളും പ്രകാശവര്ഷങ്ങള് പോലും ഞാൻ കാക്കാം, നമ്മൾ ഒന്നിച്ചാലിഞ്ഞില്ലാതാകാൻ.......

രാജ്യദ്രോഹി

തന്റെ വിധിയെ പഴിച്ചു  പാറക്കൂട്ടത്തിൽ തലതല്ലി മരിച്ച തിരമാലയെ കണ്ടു ...
കോൺക്രീറ്റു ബംഗ്ലാവുകൾക്ക് താമസിക്കാൻ തന്റെ ശരീരം വിട്ടു കൊടുത്ത കുന്നുകളെ കണ്ടു ...
ശ്വസിക്കാൻ ഒരല്പം ശുദ്ധവായുവിനായി കാട് തേടി അലഞ്ഞ കാറ്റിനെ കണ്ടു ...
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കണ്ടു കണ്ടു, കരഞ്ഞു കരഞ്ഞു ,വീർത്ത കണ്ണുകളുമായി ഞാൻ നിങ്ങളെ നോക്കിയപ്പോൾ നിങ്ങളെന്നേയും  വിളിച്ചു : "രാജ്യദ്രോഹി".....