Kittens

The cute little kittens in my house captured by the budding photographer of our household my brother Anand.

Beautiful Mornings

These mornings I have come to love, they have remained the same but then they are a constant reminder of the one thing that has not changed with us. Even when the hair fell and the skin wrinkled and as the small golden ring slowly bit into our flesh, this has not changed, these beautiful mornings, slowly waking up from the clutches of sleep and feeling that warmth of love clinging to you. It is as addictive as it will ever get with love, it is as much love as one can ever take. It is love and love alone and one can never seem to have enough of it.
Living and loving are not one grand expedition nor is it a luxury cruise. There will moist certainly be luxuries along the way, there will be meadows with green grass and beautiful flowers, there will be the wonderful music of brooks and the solidarity of woods. Even if it turns out not to be luxurious it will most certainly be happy. But that will not be all that is to it, there will storms and there will be dark clouds that slowly crawl its way over the marvelous dreams that we so incipiently weave. Even while as I was writing these wonderful words of love I am scornful at my lovely wife for she just bugged me insipidly. For she must know what I am doing and is convinced that whatever it is that I am doing, I love it more than her and this time she may very well be right.
Every fight revitalizes the relationship, you fight and you get it out of your system. Then you make up, apologize and make slow and passionate love as if you two where separated for an eternity. That is how you make it work and make it last, the fights and the thrown China is as much part of this voyage as the reckless careless love that we inspire. But one thing must be remembered not all fights are meant to be won some are to be lost as others are to be won, because your loss your victory as well.
Now are you wondering what has all this to do with the beautiful mornings I was earlier describing? Each of those mornings is a rose and they have their thorns. Every morning as you wake, as you glance at the angelic face, with eyes closed, face calm and a small unperceivable smile hanging on her luscious lips one must realize that it is love that is sleeping with you love that is both beautiful and thorny. Slowly when you kiss her temple and take in her scent, gently as you press her to you and feel in you, her heart beat that is the beauty of life that is love. When in your dreams and in your passion your heart beats as one and when every morning at the sight of that woman your heart skips a beat, that is love. And such love is made with great patience and utmost care.
PS: I no longer scorn at her but has a smile on my face that says that I can’t be angry at her long enough and at the first sight of her when I sneak out of my study, I will embrace her and look into the beautiful eyes of hers, I will kiss her on her soft lips just like our first kiss and the many first kisses hence. That is our love unspoken but forever expressed.

For Freedom We Fight

I am much saddened today for today is one of the darkest day in my country’s modern existence. Today I stand not a proud Indian, the apex court of my supposedly great nation has shamed me. My head is no longer held high, but it is loose and downward. I stand before the whole world ashamed of the leap to medieval era of ignorance that we took with the verdict today. I am no longer from a country that values #freedom, #liberty, #fraternity and #justice above all but from one that has sent millions of it’s inhabitants to jail for their exercise of their fundamental freedom of expression. They have been thrown in along with murderers and rapists because they choose to stand by what they are. Unfortunately today the nation has sacrificed everything it once stood for in the name of religious sentiment. India had repeated that one mistake that has caused several great human tragedy and has been corrected with the blood and lives of many martyrs. Todays verdict on #Sec377 was one of the greatest human tragedy to have befell on Indian citizens in over several decades.
But this fight is not yet over and this is only the beginning. The night is darkest before dawn and dawn is certainly coming. Every freedom in the history of humanity has been won by hard fought battles and this will not be an exception. It will be won and will have to be given, for it is a matter of time before that happens and nothing can stop that from happening. What #HarveyMilk did to the world our sisters and brothers will do in India and from the clutched hands of India’s pseudo religious inhumans we will snatch the victory and along with it the very freedom that we deserve. 

Many may think that it is not our fight but don’t be illusioned by your procrastinatory attitude for every freedom lost whether the ones we exercise or not is another freedom willingly surrendered. If we let it happen today then soon will come the day when the freedom we exercise will have also to be surrendered. A nation will lesser liberties is not a progressive society it is one heading towards obvious oblivion. 

It is our fight as much as it is anyone’s. We cannot let the supreme court or a bunch of prejudiced judges take away from us the freedom of choice. We cannot let the state dictate to me whom to love, how to love and most of all what is love. Indian judiciary has a made a grave mistake today by the contemption of a marginal section of society that is already under tremendous exploitation. They have injudiciously made that mistake of pitting itself against a progressive ideology for the sake of medieval and hippocratic views. 

The day will soon come when that will have to east their on words and grand top every one the freedom they rightfully deserve. No amount or armor and bureaucracy can stop the inevitable change from happening for change is essential to a progressive society or it will have to be forcefully induced.

Chennai and I in short

Its been almost an year since I reached Chennai and by now, I am as much part of this city as  I am part of any. My tamil is now good enough to deceive innocent samaritans into believing that I am one among them and I can make ends meet in tamil. This mustn’t come as a great surprise as malayalam (my native tongue ) is quite similar to tamil. I have been among and have constantly engaged with the commonest of individuals, who have made this dusty humid city their abode. To make it short and concise I am home here and certainly not in a “fish out of water” state at the very least. The city has started meaning something to me, this is where I started, this is where I hope to start a family and no matter where life takes me to from here on forth, this would certainly be where it all began.

Dear Friend.

Dear Friend, Listen hard,
For of our hearty bond I speak.
Listen to these covenants I so praise,
See in your many after noon reveries,
The truth I seek to share.
We met when the glass was much fuller,
Bonded over a youth in its spring
In those days when to the clouds we soared,
With many a dreams on our wings,
And a heart ever so light.
Do you remember the palatial clouds,
And the heaven that we build among them?
Do you still hear the birds that flew,
Along side us over the oceans vast?
There in our dream I looked in your eyes.
Do you remember the silence of a promise,
A promise that in our hearts we crossed.
Do you still not see that,
In words unseen, un heard,
We made a pact that may never be broken.
Up in the vast solitude over the blue seas,
And in the infinite expanse of the azure skies.
When the only sounds that rose
Barely breaking the splendor of our silence
Was the symphony of our hearts
Dear friend, There is never a need to remind,
That in sickness and health shall persist
The promise we once forged in our hearts
And on our shared wings all our sorrows we shall bear,
And over the beautiful ocean we shall soar.
Dear Friend, Listen hard,
For of our hearty bond I speak.
The bond that we forged in our hearts
And to our heavenly tombs we shall take.

The Kiss

A small poem that I wrote for a past post and that was rediscovered now.

The day was dry, moments wary,
and then there was the kiss.
The sun shone and clouds gone,
and there was the Spring
Butterflies had come, birds sang
and then there was the KISS.
Read the whole article about the kiss here The Story of a Kiss