PonnKaalam, PonnTamizh and my PonnDaatar :)

A golden time has come... the rains lash across my homeland, filling the rivers to a full, brimming like never before... has the age of the plenty come back to reclaim its scorched plains and confused people?

Green seems to have taken over a brown that I was far too used to.

Tamilakkam shines... PonnTamizh is back... maybe it's time for another Sangam?

But has our thought become ripe-enough? Do we radiate self-actualisation like ripe mangoes perfume an orchard just before the mango showers?

Do our lips quiver with the need to spout beautiful words of heavenly sounding precision?

Do we tremble with anticipation of a chance to speak of wisdom and near-divine levels of literary perfection in thought and action?

Does our every action evoke the endless pregnant fields of the richly-watered flat valleys and the golden crops that sway to winds of the mositure-laden North-Eastern monsoons?

Have we finally reached that melting point of suffocation when expression in all its myriad forms burst forth in every possible medium we have come to represent with?

Or am I deviating from what really brings joy to my mind?

Do I see fruition in everything, only because my mind seems so full of vibrance and colour, that I feel like dancing, singing, floating... flying?

Listening to some wonderful verses in prose and poetry in a language as sweet as milk and honey, browned and caramelised by a rustic local culture that brings palpitations of a divine kind to my existence...

I am suddenly reminded that most of my joys come from finding love...

Love in it's all encompassing form...

Love that allows you to fight, to make-up, to rage, to calm, to have passion, to share compassion, to whisper, to shout, to smile, to frown, to cry, to laugh and most of all to care and be cared for...

The love for an identity, for a culture, for a people and for a civilization has just been equalled by the love for a person... and I am still left wondering... when the *^!@ did all of this happen?

Image courtesy: http://say2daffodil.blogspot.com :)

Raat Ka Nasha :P

Every inch of me smells like you...
It's almost like I carry you with me...
In that smile, in that quick giggle...
In that distant glance, shiny and magical.

Last night hasn't left me, will you ever?

*smile* *blush*
*hides face*

Pic: ©Navdha Dhingra

Is it me, or is it you?

It's like a cool waft of breeze has blown into my life... a breeze that perfumes my every waking and sleeping hour. A perfumed cool draft that wakes me up, puts me to sleep, holds me close when I feel unloved, embraces me in my weakness and teases me silly.

The way it fondles me, when I am slowly swirling into those self-indulging throes of ecstasy, the way it makes me want to cry and laugh as it whispers sweet nothings into my ear, the raspy vibrations that it streams through me, leaving me begging for more, and satiated at the least — this is my breeze of life.

Gently caressing me, reminding me of the fruity fragrances born in the land of spices, embalmed exquisitely with soft pleasant notes of sandal, burning camphor and jasmine, woven into all the lightness of the touch of a cloud or a feather — it makes me want to adorn myself, beautify my existence and believe in myself.

Is this what they call love — my breeze, my cool draft, my breath?

Or is this just you?

Photo Credit: © Saina Jayapal

A Picture Speaks A Thousand Words

I hope it was a calm, balmy night,
one drenched with that yellow light.
There's you two, close enough to bite;
to sore eyes like mine, what a sight!

Perched daintily atop one shiny metal beam,
your invisible eyes, reflect his gleam.
A scene so perfect, straight out of a dream,
oblivious to the world around, you two seem.

Arms resting on the beam, legs in a stationary dance,
a back bent towards him, eyes drinking him in with a glance.
Two shiny heads of darkest brown, yellow-gold halo, in a trance,
in the streets of of bang and bucks, an irreverent romance.

The green traffic signal in the background, says GO.
The palpable fire red passion, bounds does it know?
A signboard "WEAR HELMET", warns you of the foe;
And the all encompassing yellow, frames you, just so.

Felt like a not so gentle reminder, from up above,
that no matter what, men like me, can still love.

- Shreedhar Iyengar :)

Photo Credit: © Saina Jayapal