tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57069403373959793602024-03-13T12:57:16.563+05:30 raison d'etreI have mine, you have yours. And they might all be the same.CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-91318107865294412852019-02-20T17:15:00.000+05:302019-02-20T17:15:17.708+05:30Kumbalangi Nights: Empowering men to step away from the masquerade of masculinity
Amidst the cries of #MeToo and debates on ambiguous forms of feminism, Kumbalangi Nights comes as a breath of fresh air that deals with the other side of the coin. It comes at a pertinent time in Kerala society, quashing patriarchal perceptions of masculinity.
The aarkum vendatha four brothers – Saji (Soubin Shahir), Bonny (Sreenath Bhasi), Bobby (Shane Nigam), and CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-43630414098674321882018-12-07T14:36:00.000+05:302018-12-07T14:36:09.469+05:30The Trees in My Life
Jamun Tree
I was suddenly jolted by the memory of it 23 years and four cities later. My mind raced back to the seven-year-old me, as I frantically scrambled for vestiges of the remnants – of the Jamun tree and my memories of it. It was a huge, tall tree, with a magnificent canopy. It rained its lush, purple berries on to the untarred road from time to time, whenever it was in CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-5568344369004353102018-05-06T10:19:00.000+05:302018-05-06T10:19:33.137+05:30Ee.Ma.Yau Unravels The Stark Realities Surrounding Death
Death is an experience that is fathomable only to those who
experience it in close quarters. Films across the world have portrayed the end
of life in various forms, but only very few may have actually projected what
happens in the moments after it.
For those who have not seen death closely, Ee.Ma.Yau is an
eye opener. It lays bare the naked realities of those who are left to deal withCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-66852025570427176772017-05-09T13:01:00.003+05:302017-05-09T13:01:59.072+05:30The Glass Box
It’s big, it’s shiny
It’s made of glass
Embellished with wood,
Stone and brass.
It was built to be the shiniest,
Biggest, loudest, costliest.
So grand in show,
The talk of the town
Glossy and gleaming
Cream and brown.
Shiny fat balls roll inside the box
They roll and rumble
Mumble and grumble.
And all fall over one another, in a tumble.
They clash and collide,
Move close CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-61189399232565080422015-04-02T17:25:00.000+05:302015-04-02T17:25:06.429+05:30Monsters in the house
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CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-89868107501006929322014-09-13T23:15:00.000+05:302014-09-13T23:56:58.337+05:30ഓർമ
ഈ ചുവന്ന മണ്ണിൽ അലിയുന്ന പച്ചപ്പ്,
ഒരു അൽപം കരി കലരും
ആകാശത്തു നിന്ന് ചോർന്, മണ്ണിൽ വിരിയും
ഈ പുഴയിൽ ഒഴുകി പോകുന്നു ഞാൻ
നമ്മുടെ കേര നാട്ടിൽ
ഓർമകളുടെ തീരത്തു നിന്ന്,
എൻറെ ഹൃദയത്തിന്റെ വാതിൽ .
മനസ്സിനെ അലട്ടുന്നു ജീവിതത്തിന്റെ പോക്ക്,
ആശിക്കുന്നു സ്നേഹമുള്ള ഒരു CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-40085375602485809132014-04-19T17:32:00.000+05:302014-04-19T17:32:59.960+05:30Early Morning Musings...
As
a nocturnal being, waking up early in the morning can be epiphanic,
particularly when you wake up naturally, unplanned, and refreshed. The visual
and sensory experiences that greet you are those that elude you during the rest
of the day, and night; almost being revelatory.
To
begin with, you realise that there is nothing to beat that ever-so-slight early
morning cool breeze. No fan or CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-10345308638351022252014-02-06T21:21:00.000+05:302014-02-06T22:45:47.440+05:30Book review of Asura - The Tale of the Vanquished
Hola everybody!
I would like to share with you a book review of (click on the titile -> ) Asura: The Tale of the Vanquished by Anand Neelakantan. The book is authored by Anand Neelakantan, and reviewed by Prasanth Nair. This review was first published in Complete Wellbeing magazine, Volume VIII, Issue No. 2, December 2013.
CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-65569375851587000712014-01-30T17:51:00.002+05:302014-01-30T17:51:48.524+05:30Confessions of a Cat Lover
Confessions of a Cat Lover was written for, and first published in Complete Wellbeing magazine, Volume VIII, Issue No.2, December 2013.
The world is
polarised between dog-lovers and cat-lovers. While no one likes to find fault
with dogs as they are the eternal symbol of best-friendship; cats,
unfortunately, are notoriously victimised by the anti-feline. Just last night;
I had a big CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-70301122282828907652013-07-11T15:41:00.001+05:302013-07-11T15:41:36.263+05:30Obsession Revisited
Now you’re
quiescent,
Each time
threatening to rearm later
Maliciously
you blackmail me
Promising to
become greater
It’s a slow
poison; killing me ever so slow
Yet without
you, I think I’m incomplete.
You are
unwanted, but it’s you that I need.
You have
grown, now you grow more and flow
In my soul
you have made your abode
Don’t let me
live in peace, or even without.
You are the
CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-36573205704468239932013-07-03T14:49:00.001+05:302013-07-03T14:49:49.972+05:30Obsession
The heart
doesn’t heed
O what a
creed
It’s there
within
Yes! It lies
therein
It’s raging
in my core
Keeps saying
– once more
I’m trying
to quieten it down
It overpowers
me sore
The flames
are dazzling
O the urge
is sizzling
Can’t help
it now that I’m sinking in it.
It’s all
spinning and twirling
Right down
to my soul.
Stable I’m
not, just shaken all over
Still it’s
just crying forCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-72025454917493968622013-06-05T14:31:00.001+05:302013-06-05T14:31:55.839+05:30There's A Place, I know...
The dawn of the day, bathed in golden ray
The heavens that were twinkling
Are now fading away.
They scatter like sparks
Their abode lights with flames bright and mellow
The zephyr takes a start, ready to blow
It’s under their wings, now they wade and flow
The seven-coloured bow pierces the undulating masses
Compelled, they fall, the drops of elixir
The dew drops on the blades now droolCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-73875350232904397962013-05-24T19:15:00.002+05:302013-05-24T19:15:59.796+05:30Mango Orchard
For you my love
A green roof is prepared for us
Of foliage thick, lush and tender
No walls to encage, or shut us tight
Just imaginary rooms ‘tween the mango trees
To set us wild, to set us free
And bathe in the sweet scented breeze.
Here is our world, just you and me
To bring alive what we believe
Play our games, call each other names
Drown in our songs and melodies
In CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-1706709650225902972013-05-07T13:59:00.000+05:302013-05-07T13:59:48.852+05:30Distasteful Silence
Of late, Alisha had become quite
busy and wasn’t getting as much time to spend with me as she used to before. Mallika
and Kavya said they had joined some dance classes, and George had to rush back
home every day for his basketball coaching. These are the people I hang out
with in college. And now with none of them free anymore, I was getting bored to
death. I was also mighty pissed with them CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-57881043416637960862013-04-06T19:47:00.000+05:302013-04-06T19:47:07.518+05:30Confessions of a Slothful Mind
“For me, working is the
equivalent of taking a break!” I was surprised to find concurrence to this
belief of mine in a friend, during a deep insightful conversation over the
ruminations of creative minds. The difference being, my creative mind is
burdened by an immense languour, while he is far more active generally.
Freshly out of college, while the
norm is to hunt for a means of CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-69782365558359052862012-10-26T14:54:00.000+05:302012-10-26T14:54:19.126+05:30Discovering Thyself
I
do not know if it is because of the sun sign that she and I share, but Ayn
Rand’s theory of Objectivism and her ideas of ‘selfishness’ being the ultimate
truth of human nature, came as little shock to me. I found an easy acceptance
of her thoughts, which echoed somewhere deep within me as my fear of voicing it
aloud had prevented me from sharing it with anyone for the fear of sounding
almostCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-35021698113974550652012-06-20T12:39:00.000+05:302012-06-20T12:39:00.237+05:30The First Shower
The feel of cool breeze over unwiped
sweat
The first drop of rain that slides down
the temple all the way to the neck
The tongue reaches out to lick the trail
of hot chocolate
that has drooled down the corner of the
lower lip
The leftover drops and mist on the window
annihilates photoshop.
With strands of curls dripping down wet
She moves like the trail of the first
shower
CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-13641459964086601372012-05-09T16:21:00.001+05:302012-05-09T16:21:24.593+05:30Describing the colour red to a blind person
It feels
like blood, slithering down
It is
sometimes hot, sometimes warm.
Acrid maybe,
or a pungent smell,
Once
recognised, it isn’t hard to tell.
It could
burn your tongue; or be completely sweet,
It is
festive and happy, like a child’s treat.
You can hear
it rushing, like a city bus,
You can hear
it soaring in a robin’s flight,
The sign of
danger, cautioning your tread,
This CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-80259189251926042672012-03-09T20:05:00.000+05:302012-03-09T20:05:01.348+05:30To The Only One That Was
It has been the finest eraYou helped create, brick by brick.You converted a mere gameInto the lifeblood that made every Indian tick.Sixteen years is all you chose to give us,Leaving us asking for more…Not another man has the game produced,That we could so much adore.You’re not gone, you never will beYou’ll continue to live in the memories of all,Thank you for the sheer delight, thank you, ‘CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-85801067894268879172012-03-09T19:52:00.000+05:302012-03-09T19:52:06.541+05:30After Hearing ‘God’s Channel’http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GdIPrMPKO8Q
I was asked by some one very close to me to close my eyes and listen to this song. The following was what I felt:
When the song began, I could see a vast open area as if on the top of a hill. It had tall grasses that came up till my chest. The time was sunset, so all around it was bathed in orange colour. There was a strong breeze in which the grass CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-28267245412656463612011-10-01T23:04:00.000+05:302011-10-01T23:04:21.022+05:30Analysing the cover of The God Of Small Things
I have wondered about it quite a bit and each time got lost in the beauty of the cover...I don't associate it with anything negative like death...though I agree with Hope..the lotus flower is one of the eight auspicious symbols or 'ashtamangala' in Tibetan Buddhism in which it represents purity of body, speech, and mind, floating above the muddy waters of attachment and desire; represents the CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-72585975443256002072011-10-01T22:54:00.000+05:302013-07-03T14:54:11.342+05:30Describing a tree to a blind man (using the 5 senses)
It’s a beautiful day and I can’t see
But today I wish to know a tree.
I walked barefoot,
As he led me by my hand
To nature’s lap,
Which he called magic land.
A sudden roughness I felt, as I touched,
Jagged edges that seemed quite much.
“The bark”, he said, was the name,
“The colour of your eyes looks much the same.”
Alarmed I was, to hear a sudden “knock-knock”,
The woodpecker, he CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-26918268675800312822011-10-01T22:52:00.000+05:302011-10-01T22:52:22.105+05:30His Eyes(Poem in hundred words comprising of only monosyllables)
His eyes are black As black as night They give a light That lights my life. Long of lash, Thick of brow I saw them then, I see them now. When he sets them on me, I smile in glee I feel the blood in me rush, And my cheeks start to blush. I so wish to stand and stare, I try to peep from my hair But I feel so shy, Don’t know why. I so wish CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-37469349390744348972011-05-17T22:53:00.000+05:302011-05-17T22:55:18.838+05:30....
Tomorrow my house gets painted, so had to take off all my posters. While I was completely remorseless, guess who was getting extremely emotional! Mum would stare and sigh at them each time she entered the room and say with a touch of nostalgia, “kalayaan thonunnilla”…while I shrugged indifferently…. It was only when I climbed the table to take them out, my hands stopped unconsciously CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706940337395979360.post-17089799007930457882011-05-17T15:15:00.000+05:302011-05-17T15:15:35.365+05:30Morning Walk
This morning a most wonderful thing happened to me. It is one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. When I woke up in the morning and looked out at my garden…the time being around 8 and the sun had not come out fully….just a few rays streaming out….. My garden looked so white as it was covered with dew. I decided to go down and take a walk barefoot. And as I did I realized CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11108411859905469080noreply@blogger.com0