Obsolescence

I relish your sad state
sitting by the window seat.
They reckon you are
meeker than a dog
in the street.

"Take me home", you beg
to every one you see.
Yet no one listens
to your egoistic plea.

Long ago you giggled
at their fate.
Now you repent
but it is too late.

Once you made
them cut throats
of innocents to get you
and now they
call you "An
obsolete rupee note"
of no use.

Unsought destiny

I think of the days 
we had spent together
in the penthouse from
where we had touched the
sparrow's feathers.

HE, the devil had 
parted us by force
our life was no more
the way we chose.

One of you was
butchered thrashed 
and crushed
while the other was
heated alive till dead.

Now I will have to 
grow again
and watch my residents
suffer in pain.

They would be crushed
like you to form the flour
and would be heated till
they pop out of the door.

We are destined
to be torn
for we are just 
meek sweet corns.

Survival strategy

You should betray

or bribe to strive.

You need to adapt

so as to survive.

It is mandatory to

fake your profile

for it is futile being 

skilled and agile.

Murder, deceive,

beg, buff and flirt.

These glitters would

cover the filth and dirt.

Darwin's findings 

are now weary.

It is high time we

change the theory.

"The world is 

only for the cunning "

since the fittest are

still running. 

Absurd apprehension

You up root them
one by one.
Afraid, I ask "What
have you done? "

"They will grow back
dear." you say.
Still apprehensive,
I don't give away.

You persuade me
to try it out.
You bring your tool
near and I shout.

Can such a process cause
some one so much fear?
Doubtless! It can
move me into tears.

Despite your assurance
that they would
grow again,
your attempts to make
me prune my eyebrows
will only end in vain.

I still don't understand why the sight of some one threading their brows causes so much fear in me.

Morning, noon and night - part 1

"Why, you wanna tell me how to live my life?
Who, are you to tell me if it's black or white?"

Mum gets irritated every time she listens to Bon Jovi from my mobile. Not that she is against me listening to western music just that it is because that Bon Jovi wakes her up at 6 every morning when he is actually devised to wake ME. I wake up and turn him off as soon as possible before mum threatens to play suprabatham* at 5 A.M tomorrow.

It was time to send a "Good morning darling. Wake up" to Sugan, my school mate who lives on the opposite end of my area. Since she was now home for her so called "MBA research" we walk together in the morning. She was to walk down from her end till the nearby university where my papa works and myself from my end up till the university campus so that we meet and walk for a while inside the staff quarters before returning home. Message sent.

I brushed and freshened up ready to leave when the mobile beeped. Guessing that it must have been another forward by some early bird I was shocked to see that it was from krithi, one hell of a lazy dear, my college mate. Bad day for her. Another forward that read "sweet lines" followed by some blah blah mushy message which I did not find to be sweet. Regretting my hopeless emotional quotient I started to walk. Sugan hadn't yet replied, not even a missed call. Perhaps she ain't out of her cozy bed I thought. Decided to give her a "Be there tomorrow at least idiot" message as soon as I came back home.

I reached the main road in a couple of minutes. The road ends in Maruthamlai the sacred hill near by. The walk is always pleasant. The road was not particularly buzzing with activity since it was a Sunday ( would have been the same even other wise since ours is the farthermost suburb of coimbatore, a majority of occupants being retired couples, families of the staff of the university I referred to earlier and quite a few locals besides lots of street dogs).

After exchanging pleasantries with my high school principal and mentor, Father Francis who lived along with the other members of the CMI society at the hostel near the chapel inside the school premises I stopped to greet Rukmani amma. She was glad to see me. "Vaa kannu. Walking ah?" (Good to see you dear. On a walk eh? ), the question she invariably asks every day to which I replied "aamanga patti. varein" (Yes granny. Ciao). She cuts grass for her goats every morning. Rukmani amma, now well above 60 years of age was one of the construction workers who had worked for building our home 19 years ago. I had known her ever since.

I reached the university. It was time to make a decision. I should either take a right turn into the staff quarters or the left into the university campus. It was a dilemma between catching a glimpse of a flock of gorgeous peacocks inside the quarters or a gang of charming pagal-guy-junta* playing soccer at the stadium inside the campus. In no mood to enjoy mother nature's beauty I took the left with the hopes of starting the day with a bright sight. Sheer bad luck! There was no one at the stadium.

I started walking back when I heard the sacred hymns from the Ayyapa* temple. It would be Prasada* time once the chanting gets over. Prasada is a delicious sweet made of jaggery and rice. I regretted for not having taken a bath. Ayyappa would certainly not be happy with me if I taste the prasada sans bathing. Let go!

I reached home. Sent the message i had thought of sending Sugan once I reach home.

I felt a hard pat on my shoulder. It was mum. She said something. I was not able to hear. I rubbed my eyes. She repeated,

"Sugan just called to the land line. Seems your bloody mobile is out of battery. She had tried it. She is back home after the walk and asked you to be there tomorrow at least."

Oh God! Mobile switched off-> no alarm->I have just woke up. The day had just begun sans walking. No battery in the mobile and no power at home.

Awesome !

Stay tuned for the rest of the day's activity.

suprabatham* - A holy Hindu hymn usually sung or played early in the morning.
pagal-guy-junta* - Do I have to say it refers to the MBA students :P
Ayyappa - A Hindu God
Prasada - Sacred snack distributed in Hindu temples after an auspicious ritual in the morning and evening.

N.B. My first attempt in writing something other than poetry. Looking forward to the feedback.

morning, noon and night - part 2

Enough damage to the day already being done I had no particular interest in looking forward to the weekend and besides I was darn sure I would come across other reasons to justify my statement. I got out of the bed sluggishly and folded my bed sheet. Time to brush. My search for the brush in the box ended in vain. I had left my brush upstairs yesterday. It might or might not interest you to know that I have a peculiar habit of brushing upstairs listening to my music player connected to the surround system if am not too late from the walk. I had been early yesterday so the brush was now upstairs. Hating myself for bring early from walk yesterday I climbed the stairs and brushed.

It was 8 A.M. by the time I finished brushing and I could smell mum making potato curry. My mood shifted from bad to worse. Again it is not because that I hate potato curry but that potato curry means it is chapati* for breakfast and obviously the rolling work for me. Another reason to justify that my weekend was not going to be real terrific. To hell with it!

It was time for a shower after rolling out chapatis. My misfortune was not ready to leave me alone even inside the bathroom. I forgot to turn the geyser on and ended up drenched in cold water. All right am not complaining anymore. I was ready to taste mum's potato curry when I heard my granny calling out "kaki ki annam pettava ne?" (Have you fed the crows?). My orthodox family members (or at least my mum and granny) are very particular about feeding the crows before having food in the morning. It is a common belief that our forefathers come back to our home in the form of crows. What ever ! Mum had made rice for grand pa and granny had already filled a small bowl with the rice and asked me to leave it on the terrace.

The clock struck 10 by the time I finished my breakfast. Only then did it strike me that I had to return Robin Cook's "The forgeing body" to the lending library. The incharge had called me yesterday to remind me that the due date had passed. So I took to the bus stand and got into a bus. The library was a half an hour ride from my place. I searched my handbag for the music player only to remember that I had left it back at the office yesterday. No other way to pass the time I decided to start with my so called "Rush hour ramblings" (A term I use to refer to poems I write while traveling in the rush hours) despite the fact that there was no real rush that day.

You seem to enjoy

the shades of blue

As I gently make

a mark on you - he said

your marks stick

on me like glue

for I know your

love is so true - she said

She a paper and he

a mighty pen

I know well that

I have fooled you again ;)

Phew! Done! I was sure that I could call it a day now.

I got down from the bus and reached the destination only to find that the library was closed. Damn my memory it was a Sunday wasn't it? Scorching sun was eating away the 1 milligram brain left inside my skull besindes drinking my cerebro-spinal fluid. I took the bus back to my place and started to "People watch" since this one was comparatively crowded and I was not able to get back to my rambling because I was standing.

I was completely exhausted when I reached home. Lunch time and I thoroughly enjoyed mum's Brinjal gravy with rice. Dad was home and was watching the Australia Vs Newzealand ODI and I was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of darling Ross Taylor having a nice time at the crease. Good for him!

I thought the day was to end in a pleasant manner but little did I know that the worst was yet to happen.

Part 3 coming soon :)

Morning, noon and night - part 3

After drooling over Ross for sometime I went upstairs and logged into orkut. It had been a long time since I visited my home community in orkut, the "Allari Pillalam" (translates to "mischievous gang") community. It was here that I had learned to speak pure Telugu and so I owe a lot to its members. The community seemed inactive. I felt cursed.

It was 3.30 and the long awaited Man Vs Bull fight was well under way. (For those who cannot relate this to the Roger Vs Rafael Australian open finals am so sorry for your bad knowledge of tennis). I have a superstition. Every time I had watched Roger play a grand slam final he had lost it. Well, Roger had won US Open 2008 lately and I hadn't watched it since the cable operator had dumped us. Having this in mind I decided to follow the scores in the Australian open website rather than joining dad and bro who were watching downstairs. The match was balanced at 1 set each. I just could not resist and went down to see the rest of the match. As misfortune would have it Roger lost set 3.

Unable to watch any further I came back and logged into gtalk. Roger somehow managed to hold set 4 but it was cake walk for Rafael in set 5. Roger needs to come out of this "Rafa" factor if he has any hope left for reaching Pete's heights. Enough of tennis. The worst of the times had just begun. It was time to answer all bull fans. Suraj and Ram in particular and both were online.

Suraj had shown some chivalry and I highly appreciate him for not being harsh.

suraj: watchn rt???

nandhini: u bet

suraj: :P

wat to

bet

watch d last game

nandhini: :P

suraj: countdown starts

nandhini: hush ;)

suraj : 30-0

2 more minutes

1 min 45 sec

*(Roger did manage a deuce but it was Rafael's day)*

suraj: AUS OPEN 2009 CHAMP!!!!

who? roger??

nandhini: to hell with it :P

buzz off :P

All right, coming back to the bull fans. It was just this from Suraj with some more evil laughters and stuff. Thank God he did not make me feel real bad. I was so sorry I had asked him to buzz off. (He dint actually do that though :P )

It was an altogether different story with Ram, my college mate and a Rafael die hard. I am not sure which of his message made me feel pissed off initially and I had reacted in a really bad manner. But it was not nice of him to ask if Roger had won 6 Grand slams when he was 22. He shouldn't have asked such a question and certainly not to me. Again the same buzz off which he quite did. Fuel added to the already burning relation. Who cares? :P ANYTHING FOR ROGER ;) (Sorry though Ram if you happen to read this.)

Fed up with answering the bull fans I logged off and came downstairs to watch Ian Wright show in Travel and Living. I felt relieved. The day was about to end when my bro came home with an evil grin. I regretted for having teased him when Ana Ivanovic had dropped out earlier. Forgetting everything I decided to send "Good Night" messages to every one and retire to bed. The messages were getting unusually late to be sent and I flipped my phone close to go and wish granny good night.

I came back to see how many "Good night" wishes I had got in reply when disaster struck. It was the 1 st of February and my message booster had expired on the 31st of January. Had my mobile been alive this morning and had I sent a "Good morning" to Sugan alone I would have refrained myself from sending group messages. 15 INR wasted on sending messages. Icing on my super disastrous Sunday cake done.

I retired to bed with dreams of a better TOMORROW.

Benevolence bygone

She stood by the way

savoring the wind.

She was pretty 

yet brown skinned.

Her voice a 

meeky screech 

and her legs, 

fragile sticks each

 and there was

some thing odd.

She was sans clothing

stark-naked 

Oh God!

Why was she bare

despite her friends

weaving?

We live in a land

of benevolence or so

I was beleiving !?

Fly far away,

Oh my dear MYNAH.

This world is certainly 

not your savannah.