Analysing 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 full blossoming of wholesome deeds in blissful liberation. The flower, as you know, blooms out of dirt and mud; so the allusion could be the pure love of Ammu and Velutha blossoming out of the dirt of caste system and untouchability. The plant also has leaves which repel water, which could symbolise the same thing - their love repelling the dirty waters polluted by the likes of Baby Kochamma and her family members. I personally liked to fancy the lotus as Velutha himself - the beautiful man with a "dirty" background...the man with "a leaf on his back, who made the monsoons come on time"....the one who dared to "make the unthinkable thinkable, and the impossible, really happen".....The many layers of leaves and their various shades of green could also hint at the depth of the story, the multiple meanings and the various perspectives....The presence of several leaves of various colours, with a tiny blossom in the center, appeared to me as if, we all are the same (leaves) but are different, whether in caste, colour or religion (colours), yet our needs are the same (the pink blossom) - love, togetherness and happiness. {Ah..this last interpretation is perhaps reading too much!! ;) }
Finally, the placing of the tiny blossom in the middle of those big, broad leaves could also be telling us to focus upon the Small things that the book talks about.

Describing 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 said, was building a home in the block.

Made to reach out and feel something round,

Mango – the fruit was what I found.

The smell was different, when I put it to my nose

Not like burnt paper; neither the fragrance of a rose.

He asked me to bite, and it was then,

A juicy nectar transported me to heaven…

So today it was the mango-tree

That he helped me to feel, to taste, touch and see.

His 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 to lock eyes with him;

But guts I lack, and it stays a whim.

His eyes it is that I am drawn to,

Get close to them, I do want to.

His eyes which are black

As black as the night

They give a light

That lights my life.

....

 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 at the now yellowed cello tapes, my eyes locked with theirs…..as the years of togetherness passed before me…..that day when I had put them up so lovingly…..now perhaps never to put them up again….

End of an era…

End of a part of me…

(written some time in early 2008)

Morning 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 it was one of those moments when I could forget absolutely everything and there were no cares at all. One of the most enthralling and rejuvenating moments….almost a kind of meditation…a spiritual feeling seemed to overpower me. The simplicity of the pleasure relaxed me so much that I went on and on till the sun came out and the dew started evaporating. And as I walked on the ‘white’ grass, my footprints left the grass green where I had walked….just like the way it is while walking on a beach. And the dew was so cold and fresh that I felt my entire soul being cleansed……

At the end of it my feet were so cold, wet and dirty. I sat on my swing watching my feet go dry. I had never before felt so good about being dirty! (Not that I’m a cleanliness freak by nature; but yeah the habit has been ingrained subconsciously thanks to mum’s strict upbringing!) So when my mom saw me strolling like that, she made maximum use of her talent for screaming and asked me to come back (she loses her head when she sees me walking barefoot!!)….I just looked at her and sighed…tsk-tsking at what she was missing…….. J

(written on a spring morning sometime in 2009)

My first ever poem in Malayalam...

ജനാലക്യരികില്‍ നിന്ന് നിന്നെയും കാത്ത്,

ഈ രാത്രി ഒരു ജന്മം കഴിഞ്ഞു..

എന്തെ നീ എന്നോട് മിണ്ടീല

എന്തെ നീ ഒരു വാക്ക് ചൊല്ലീല...

കനവില്‍ വരുമോ, അതോ നിലാവില്‍...

നിന്‍ മുഖം കണ്ടു ഈ മേഘങ്ങളില്‍

നിന്‍ വാസന വന്നു ഈ കാറില്‍...

നിന്‍ ഓര്മ പതിഞ്ഞ ഈ ഹൃദയത്തില്‍, ഈ അധരങ്ങളില്‍ നിന്‍ പേര്,

ഒരു തുള്ളി ചുംബനം ആശിച്ചു പോയ എന്‍ ആശയില്‍ നീ വന്നു ചേര്,

എന്‍ ആശയില്‍ നീ വന്നു ചേര്...

Below is the English translation by Professor Prem Kumar Vijayan from Hindu College, Delhi University:

Awaiting you by my window
A lifetime measured in one night….
Why won’t you speak to me,
Why won’t you speak one word…?
Will you come in dream or in moonshine…
Your face in these clouds,
Your scent in this breeze….
In my heart slowed by memories of you, the lilting of your name,
Come meld into my desire, desirous of kisses,
Come meld into my desires….

White Shirt

Graduation day gift
She'd wrapped it in purple and gold
"To make you feel like a prince
For a princely rank" - a robe.
It was crisp and bright
Just like her smile
That lit up the world - and mine.
"Wear it on my birthday
With your new Levi's
And when we go out for dinner."
I promised I would, like a good big brother.
Protect it, protect her. Cherish it, cherish her.
Still do, despite the change in colour.
Now no more,
The whiteness gone.
The brightness gone.
It lies there,
Dusty with mud
Splashed with blood.
Still unopened,
The scratched-out price-tag dangling.
Priceless - just like her smile :
Jingling, tinkling.
I pick up the shirt.
I pick up my sister.
Lay her head on my arm.
The soiled shirt, the spoiled shirt.
My beloved sister, my dead sister.
Hit by the the truck
Running towards me
Across the road
To give me my present
The graduation day gift
Just like her smile
Crisp and bright
A shirt - white.