Saturday, 30 September 2017

The CAGED BIRD in me!


"You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

        You may shoot me with your words,
        You may cut me with your eyes,
        You may kill me with your hatefulness,
        But still, like air, I'll rise" 

When the resonance of Aruni Kashyap's fake boots is superseded by Maya Angelou's caged bird!! My fondness for the Angel's touch becomes priceless for a while     some thoughts, words and impressions forged by poetic expressions are quite contextual.Poetry can make mountains move as rightly said by the Kashmiri poet but not the populace.



SIGNS of SCIENCE

"To get the right word in the right place is a rare achievement. To condense the diffused light of a page of thought into the luminous flash of a single sentence, is worthy to rank as a prize composition just by itself...Anybody can have ideas--the difficulty is to express them without squandering a quire of paper on an idea that ought to be reduced to one glittering paragraph.”- Mark Twain

I deem this as the right day to feel that glittering of the words and essays. A big thanks to dearest Sarath chettan for inspiring and motivating me with your 
laughter and crazy comments to pen that short story for the National Wing word Short Prize event 2017 by Delhi Foundation for creative writers. The moment I received the commendable mention certificate, I conveyed the message to you, ( Sarath Sir ) It is a matter of ecstasy to receive the news when I was with an established writer like  K.A.Beena Madam. I must thank you for your positive words brimming in ingenuity. Navin- How can I not thank you when you keep on inspiring me although pulling my legs often, my broie  ? I must thank the real character who has given life to my words via paragraphs.. Is it so, Navin?? Time has not yet arrived, right?? Thanks a lot to my dearest ones to make me realise the fact that I should not waste my time and scribbling for the people who in the helter skelter of theirs lives don't even bother to say or text a line. Still, I am in love with the world of words.. Now it is time to get back to the tracks of Rajasthan days and PhD too๐Ÿคจ

NB: Navin- your comments are encouraged only in my inbox  Last but not the least, my dearest sister cum best half Anakha Ajith for forcing me to submit my story entry on time. Das Thomas-tagging you in my sister's fb absentia, bro  
Yes, the name of my story is Signs of Science

Battling with the Battle

Back to facebook after a sabbatical with a whimper from Haryana.Feeling a novel kind of impetus from Kala Amb, the venue of the historical Battles of Panipat. Thank you so much, my dearest KA Beena madam for being my perky, spirited and ever motivating host..The more I know the writer, woman and the philanthropist in you, the more I admire you   . Despite all the opposing force brought to us by the scorching sun, we made it - Yes, Our Panipat expedition๐Ÿ˜. 


The moments and movements I create and get in life- They do teach me a lot. Being a Malayali diaspora of North India for the last three years, I was bewildered, surprised, confused at very many things and contexts.The new routes I encounter in my life at present have added a lot to my present roots.Let me cite a recent incident from Haryana, the land notoriously famous for female foeticide and infanticide.This was the Haryana I have travelled so far through my history books and pages. The autowalla Muneish Bhayya from Chandni Bagh who showed us all the must see places of our Haryana wish list showed us a monumental reality. The lethargy of the passive climate made us realise that he is in need of lunch and as his home was on the way to our next spot, he welcomed us to have a glimpse of the place where he resided.Muneish bhayya and his wife Sunita Deedi plus their five girl children Priya, Priyanka, Pooja, Shivani and Isha..๐Ÿค” 


Our bewilderment knew no bounds and Muneish bhayya quenched our query by saying that he considers girl children as a treasure and he doesnt regret that he has no son. He demolished the stereotypical notion of Haryana brimming in female infanticide and foeticide. Once again, INDIA is diverse despite all its unity. There is scope for blurring the manmade barriers. Feeling admired and loved by this dichotomies. Beena Madam- Its time for me to explore the nuances in Indian life. 
Lot more to see, feel and learn. I began battering my heart inspired by the Battle field of Panipat. I hope Manu S Pillai and his ivory thorne will make me pen yet another chronicle.. In that case, my sir will be delighted right?? A big thanks to our stranger boy Goutam for paying our cab money as we were in short of change. Strangers and these strange happenings make me discern that many people reciprocate miraculously at the right moment though known people are known and prone to monstrous ingratitude. Still, life is full of shocking surprises and suspense. Navin and Johan- Your little girl badly wants to meet you.. I presume you guys will be ok with this post( this is precise na?)

MALABAR MIND

Sometimes its a piece of literature or a shot from the movie that makes us ponder over more deeply about things of real flesh and blood. When a page of poem endows life to the stage(scene/screen), it will be a synthesis worth moving our psyche  


"The density of a starless night.
My forefinger my brush,
Glistening lamp black my paint.
When your eyes meet mine

In the mating pool of the mirror,
My hand falters,
The line smudges.
Woman, you do not know what you do to me" -
 

(Only Sometimes a God ) 


The Indian English writer Anita Nair has once again touched my recesses with her Malabar Mind just like her Ladies Coupe. Glad to see and know about documentaries unfurled from poetic lines and literary perception.๐Ÿค”๐Ÿ˜

Tuesday, 2 May 2017

MONALISA – AN UNVARNISHED PAINTING


Short Film plays a quintessential role in the daily life of an ordinary human being. It is an emotional tool that people can become part of as it not only forges movements but breaks barriers and builds bonds also.  Short Film as a multi dimensional medium, with great potential to inform, educate, define, expose and transform social realities has extensive power to play with a man’s psychology. Being the cultural artifact of human life, it has carved a niche of its own by depicting the eternal verities which are universal in nature. It has become the rich heritage of man and we see the recordation of the heart- beats of the entire human race in celluloid form. Sometimes it takes a new environment; sometimes it takes a piece of literature or a short film to propel people to ponder over more deeply about things of real flesh and blood.  Everybody including a layman goes eloquent on the topic ‘love’ as ‘loving can cost a lot but not loving always costs more, and those who fear to love often find that want of love is an emptiness that robs the joy from life’. But when it comes to ‘unrequited love’, it really exemplifies the words of the renowned metaphysical poet Abraham Cowley
A mighty pain to love it is,
And 'tis a pain that pain to miss;
But of all pains, the greatest pain
It is to love, but love in vain.
 
Here comes an unforeseen short film Monalisa weaving the patterns of an unrequited love. The creative output edited, written and directed by Sreedev T S Nair from Trivandrum city unfurls the infinite curse of a lonely heart. If music is the food of love, we will have a tendency to play on for long in abundance. It may sicken our appetite and so we travel to the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns. The very short film by this budding director underlines the certitude that
Love, unrequited, robs me of my rest:
Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers:
Love, nightmare-like, lies heavy on my chest,
And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers!
Let’s have a glimpse of Sreedev’s Monalisa- a combo delight of jollity and adversity that transcends all mortal faces and phases of life just like the portrayal of Monalisa made immortal by Leonardo da vinci, the Italian Renaissance figure par excellence.

Love is heaven but it can hurt you like hell. Still, we must never lose sight of what we cannot see. Sometimes absence is required to feel a person’s presence profoundly and the heroine Sruthi epitomizes this. Her love (unknown love) is like a sinking ship and she senses it only when the waning light began painting patterns in her room. Her inner landscape is in pursuit of that portrait which was found lying with the dead body. The picture with smiling face as well as eyes was paramount for artist Vivek than his own entity. The artistic bend of Vivek’s inner imagination rendered clarity to the lines of his creative pencil which in reality turned out to be the lucid depiction of Sruthi’s sparkling eyes. Being in love with someone who doesn't even know you exist is not the worst thing in the world. In fact, it is quite the opposite. Almost like passing in a term paper that you know sucked, but having that period of time where you haven't gotten your grade back yet -- that kind of exhale where you haven't been rejected, although you pretty much know how it's going to turn out. Vivek becomes a day in her dark night. Sruthi yearns for an expression of love and in this arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing. Here the melancholy of Vivek’s demise becomes the object of desire for Sruthi.  Everything doesn’t need to be said and Vivek expressed his feelings of sparkling words via his lines of poetry and painting.  The lyrics endowed in fertile imagination and great clarity of vision acts as a solace to any loving heart that is hurt. Sruthi has emerged triumphant in finding the heart and soul of Vivek albeit they are in different worlds, geographically different and distant. Now she feels ‘more than ever seems it rich to die’as she has amalgamated herself into his soul. This ecstasy which his soul is capable of pouring forth ceases all her pain of unrequited love.
The short film Monalisa destroys the pre-conceived notions of mere candle light and popcorn love. Sreedev has successfully deconstructed the very semantics of usual romance in his unusual way thereby glorifying the sanctity of Platonic love in an ‘invisible presence’. It is a praiseworthy endeavor from this entire crew that they have given a new impression for love without discarding the expressions of love – something that is never lost and if not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and will purify the heart for sure. The very name Monalisa connotes the hopes and hopelessness of love. Here the short film alludes a love which we have all known but never sensed or experienced. Sruthi satiates the queries of her mind and the story ends with a note of optimism which the famous Victorian poet Alfred Lord Tennyson is capable of imparting us-
 I hold it true, whate'er befall;
 I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
 than never to have loved at all.
You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot and can never close your heart to the things you do not want to feel. Monalisa nurtures and instills hope to many healing hearts in search of love with a metaphysical submility.
A day with Sree Dev after Asianet News channel event 'YOUTH TUBE' ( 2014 memoirs from Trivandrum Hyacinth By Sparza)



Tuesday, 25 April 2017

Amar Bhindeshi Tara ( My Foreign Star)- Waiting for a Pherari Mon now!

Rickshaw Safari at Ajmer

Amar bhindeshi tara( My foreign star)

akaa rateri akashe..(alone in the night sky)

Tumi bajale aktara (You played the ektara)

amar chilekotahr pashe( Right next to my house)

Thik shondhe namar mukhe( Just before sunset)

Tomar naam dhore keu daake(Someone calls out your name)

Mukh lukiye kaar buke (On whose chest do you hide your face)

tomar golpo bolo kaake(Whom do you tell your tale?)

Amar raat jaga tara (My sleepless star)

tomar onno parae bari(Your house is in another neighbourhood)

Amar bhoy pawa chehara (My scared face)

ami adote anari ( I am nothing but a fool)


When meeshti deedi gifted meeshti for Appu 
 Is it time to RE-create 9 November 2016? jaani na!

Deedi and me <3 <3... Thanks a lot ,my Blonde Bombshell for bestowing me with such a red letter day of moments, pranks, impressions and expressions, non- stop chit chats....I am really overpowered by the power of your words too just like  you felt for mine.. In fact your text also touched me a lot,my Deedi ji... Love you loads like the way I love and adore that khoob bhalo cum meeshti language, literature, songs and what not..... You are really my 'bhindeshi tara, my Deedi <3 <3.. Hope we can join hands for our weird plans.hehehe.... Thanks a lot for being in touch and making me feel the warmth of a sisterly care for a day.. The friendship that got a mighty upstart from the Creative Writer's festival- let it flourish like an ocean of love, funs, care, gifts, happiness, sorrow and with all the crests and troughs of our eternal sustenance...  Thanks for your touching words on me couched in tension and attention.I love to know more and more about you, travel, explore and lot many things. The passage of time, the subtle chief of youth, faces cum phases in various species of people I come across throughout my twenty six years or revolutions around this mighty planet taught me to have a world of my own although everybody can't accept my 'often unbearable childish cum talkative nature', straight forward comments and.. Still, I am what I am.. I love to be with people who have their own calms and storms in life that made them attain success at its zenith. Some people can never appreciate anyone/thing  and know only destructive ways verbally,orally and emotionally. Being a student of literature dwelling in the world of words, I just enjoy and began taking all these  pleasures,pains, aching joys and dizzy raptures as the part and parcel of my life.
counting 'bhindeshi tara'



See you soon at Ajmer or Kerala or Bangladesh..Now it is the time of your summer break. Yearning to have an auspicious day with you, my Barrister deedi ji.... 'amar ekla lage bhari 'is a reality.Still some moments made by someones exceptional can transcend many ekla feelings.is it so, Deedi..???.muah,my bhindeshi tara <3 <3 

Please ghum hoye jao chokhe(Please become the sleep in my eyes)

amar mon kharaper rat e(On my depressed night)

Amar raat jaga tara (My sleepless star)

amar akash choya bari(your sky touching house)
Ami paina chute tomay (I cannot reach you)

amar akla laage bhari.(I feel so lonely all alone)

 Now it's time for me to put an end to my pursuit and own a mon - ek Pherari mon( to catch hold of an escaping mind).. Hope Deedi is aware of what alchemy I am in search of.. hehehehehe...
If winter is an etching, spring a water colour and summer an oil painting, then autumn is a mosaic of all these very seasons... Waiting for the autumn of my life now.......
Sister's love at first sight- That day of Udaipur, the land of forts and lakes!




Monday, 10 April 2017

MT's Snow and my empty Snow

"Whether I reach the goal
or am felled by death midway
I shall keep marching, my heels
Grinding all the thorns in the path" <3 <3
A poem which my Father taught in my mother tongue Malayalam during my school days for an Extempore event on behalf of a 'kaviyarangu'.The poem was made immortal by none other than the creator of My Preceptor(Ente Gurunathan). The other day I happened to come across the translation of these lyrics from an Orient Longman book which I have copied from my alma mater,Hyderabd Central University .. Anakha Ajith- Thanks, Meenukutty for getting me this book last time without forgetting it. Keep it up! waiting for more gifts and stuffs plus vice versa. These lyrics made me stupefy for a while- in wonder, excitement, apprehension, anticipation,sublimity? I do not know but one thing I am cocksure is I yearn to freeze the moments of euphoria and these words keep on inspiring me just like the way my utmost loving Achan remains a constant source of inspiration in my 'on the roads' mode life. 
Anakha Ajith- It is a matter of ecstasy to have a glimpse of some intimate lines of mine which I used to fondle from my tenth standard examination break.Here comes the significance of your Amma - my Amma girl - yes, M T Vasudevan Nair's Snow(Manju)- I guess this is the first classic novels which Amma has brought for me from her office library and thereby opening a world of time( a stagnant expanse of water like the Naini Tal lake). Looking forward is equally human and that is why I keep on moving with the incurable malady of hope always and as as usual. Anakha Ajith - I recollect the words of a guy who studied with me in my Masters at University of Hyderabad(Hope you got the person as well as the name). As I was always considered a laughing stock by some 'great' tom, dick and harry saying 'I follow the pattern of stream of consciousness technique, I don't feel anything bad though these days.Yes Meenu, if I follow the stream of consciousness mode, wayward drifting of memories and the panorama of past landscape, my parents will only be responsible as you mention off and on.I am honoured to be a hyper pampered and spoiled girl of my parents.hehehehe.Always indebted- If somebody recognizes you by your face, you feel happy.But if somebody recognizes you by saying he/she has met you over there and somebody remembers you by the name of the topic and paper you have presented out of innumerable candidates, that will mean a lot( for me). 
Anirudhan Sir- Feeling delighted in that way especially when I am becoming a part of the 'unaccustomed earth.MT's empty snow keep on instilling the hopes and hopelessness of my life. Vimala and Buddu render the facades of my 'rising rain'.Last but not the least, my late Granny who taught me the English alphabet, nursery rhymes, mathematics table and ......... Above all, the smile with which she cared and loved us though her inner pangs were only hers and hers. But something is in store for my cute granny who did not forget to mention me at her last breath.My vast treasure house of stories crave for a lowland.. Lahiri's lowland or my Arundhati Roy's ministry of utmost happiness? Jaani na! Anakha mol- count down begins. Diasporic 'avial' aaya namaha!
Ready, steady, go for the 'snow'- A night delight from the leaflet of Banaras Hindu University(Kashi Viswa Vidyalaya)