Lost in Thoughts

Here’s what I love about villages. They actually give time for your whirling mind to slow down to leisurely paces, creating a soothing effect, one can find nowhere else. Ramanathapuram is one such place. Upon stepping out of the train, I thought it to be a bland, boring town which it appeared to be. Appearances could be deceptive? Yes, very deceptive. I didn’t know that over the next few days this seemingly hum ble settlement would make me go “wow”! One could spend a whole day loitering about the streets. If pick your way through the main bazaar, you will reach a regal gateway that stands out majestically, a stark contrast to the feeble kutcha houses flanking it. The temple elephant smiles fondly at you, its bells tinkling merrily in the breeze. If you are brave enough, you can let it touch your heads. And there stands The Ramalinga Vilas - a proud historic point of this town. This supposedly was the residence of the Sethupathi Kings who ruled this part of the town....

We all have friends. Some whom we have literally lived entire eternities with. Some whom we never seemed to have enough time to be with. The latter just whiz by, as quickly as the sigh of the wind, nevertheless leaving a mark behind.    I still remember her. Her oval bindi, of bright crimson, a stark contrast to her unusually fair skin, which bore visible hints of lavish servings of turmeric. Her locks were thick and lustrous, and coiled like a thick rope down to her hips. When she walked, it was with the music of her anklets. A tiny nose ring usually winked at the beholder. This ring, changed its colours to compliment the outfits she wore. She was slight as a reed dancing in the wind. I would tell her one day she would be swept away by a wind too strong.   She was one of the first (and probably the only) friends I got when I changed schools. I thought I knew everything about the town I grew up in since childhood. God probably giggled at my ignorance. Put in a publi...

We all have this one favorite teacher, who is easily the coolest and strongest person we have ever encountered. For me, its my English Teacher... Speeding down the streets as a vague violet glint, Her sharp features held high and erect against wind's sway, With the sun adding to her bronze, a golden tint, My teacher roars away every day. Grinning as she steps over the threshold, With a casual wave, She entwines the class in her mystic hold, Where every pupil knows to learn, to laugh -and to behave. Alive did Shakespeare, Frost and Eyre trod in her classes, Where she took us each day on a voyage, We sped in horses tearing through white, frozen land masses, Yea, scooped up gold, bathing in the rising sun's shimmering gaze. On papers did we slay dragons and beasts, Gripping our swords tight as they rose to the sky, menacing fangs bared, Yea, met rich merchants and their mistresses in feasts, As they drank deeply from glasses, sparkling red w...

This is to all the women out there. A dashing fashion icon in teens, who invests painstaking effort to do her eyebrows right, spend hours meditating in-front of wardrobes to pick out the perfect outfit for the evening, work out rigorously to etch stunning curves into their bodies...Are you the same now...or will you be the same after a few decades? Would you love yourself as much?...Just remember, for a woman, true redemption lies in her own self alone.                                               Lost she was, amidst the brown and grey, The harsh grey of the mist that hung, limp and forlorn, The slick brown of the thorns that leered at her from where they lay, Hope dwindling with every step, not knowing where, she walked on. A bitter smile twisted her...

12 o' clock at night. 11 steps down the stairs and into the kitchen. "10 in all! yum!", I lick my lips as I load my plate with biscuits from fridge. 9 chairs around the table, I settle into one of them. 8 biscuits gone, am eyeing the rest of them warily. 7 minutes past twelve, the mellow light from the open fridge flickers. 6 times I ignore it until it gives last weak spark and dies out, billowing darkness spread around. 5 times I hear that, the low groan of wooden steps as they creaked under some weight. 4 long candles on a holder I found, all of them lit and headed hurriedly to my room, my covers, my safety. 3 of those candles I had wasted as my hand trembled so badly, the last one I raised slowly above my head to the ceiling, hearing a soft, chilling hiss from there. 2 eyes were closing down on me, of luminous piercing grey, with the coldness of a grave and emptiness of the dead. Fast. 1 second later I materialized, a flimsier, gray...

When the sea looked up for the first time at the sky...he felt awed at what he saw...  There she was...spread protectively over him, serene and calm.    Was it tender generosity, he saw in her,as she let the wisps of clouds play and wander about?    Or was it sharp intellect he saw in her brilliant blue expanse, stretching limits of knowledge beyond the scale?    Or was it terribly beautiful anger he saw in her, as she darkened inky blue, trembling with streaks of lightning and shuddering with splitting thunder?    Or was it love at its purest essence, as she cooled in a jiffy, anger dissipating, kissing him affectionately with droplets of forgiveness?   Or was it enduring strength that he saw in her, as she filled him again and again with life, till he stood swelling with pride, shining,strong and rippling with energy.   He didn't know what to say or what to call her...he swayed up and down, leaping high once...