Friday, December 17, 2010

MS Word- Joker

my first attempt of art in MS Word...

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

New Poem

(DISCLAIMER: I claim nothing through this)

I came to the city.
It din't welcome me, it's lifeless.
It's the 'zombieland'
It din't welcome me.
I welcomed myself into it.


I travel, I travel long
I see people talking.
I realize.
Feels a prick somewhere... "I am a loner."
I say aloud "Who cares, I rock!" Then, then
The prick becomes a wound, a bloody wound.
Feels dry, feels thirsty.


I sit and wonder
With my purse in hand,
My 9-year old purse (gift from dad).
Where did the money go?
What will i do? I pray.
God is great, gives me two answers.
1.Call home
2. It's high-time you called home.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Otta chodyam

(This english script of my malayalam version is for those who have no malayalam font in your computers. thank you)

Otta Chodyam

Athu maathramanu ayalude shakthi.
Chodikkanulla adhikaaram.
Parayippikkuvanulla adhikaaram.
Padippikkuvanulla adhikaaram.
Ayaalaakunnu 'Mashu.' (Master)

Bhayankara kazhivaanayaalkku.
Urangaathavareppolum urakkikalayum.
Ayaal maanthrikananu.
Onnine nooraakki imposition ezhuthikkum.
Ayaalaaraa Mon!

Oru vichithra swabhaavam undayaalkku.
Aalkkare urakki veezhthum,
Pinnavare erinju veezhthum.
Bhayankara unnam.
'Njan nalla maangayerukaaran enna bhaavam.'

Ayaal kure chodyam chodikkum.
Kuttikku utharamundaavilla.
Pakshe, kutti paavamaanu.
Ayaalodoru chodyame chodikkanulloo,

"Thaanoke enthinaado padippikkunne?"


Thursday, March 18, 2010

ഒറ്റ ചോദ്യം

ഒറ്റ ചോദ്യം

അത് മാത്രമാണ് അയാളുടെ ശക്തി.
ചോദിക്കാനുള്ള അധികാരം.
പറയിപ്പിക്കുവാനുള്ള അധികാരം.
പഠിപ്പിക്കുവാനുള്ള അധികാരം.
അയാളാകുന്നു 'മാഷ്.'

ഭയങ്കര കഴിവാണ് അയാള്‍ക്ക്‌.
ഉറങ്ങാത്തവരെപ്പോലും ഉറക്കിക്കളയും.
അയാള്‍ മാന്ത്രികനാണ്,
ഒന്നിനെ നൂറാക്കി ഇമ്പോസിഷന്‍ എഴുതിക്കും.
അയാളാരാ മോന്‍! 

ഒരു വിചിത്ര സ്വഭാവമുണ്ടയാള്‍ക്ക്.
ആള്‍ക്കാരെ ഉറക്കി വീഴ്ത്തും,
പിന്നവരെ എറിഞ്ഞു വീഴ്ത്തും.
ഭയങ്കര ഉന്നം.
'ഞാന്‍ നല്ല മാങ്ങയെറുകാരന്‍ എന്ന ഭാവം.

അയാള്‍ കുറെ ചോദ്യം ചോദിക്കും.
കുട്ടിക്ക് ഉത്തരമുണ്ടാവില്ല.
പക്ഷെ, കുട്ടി പാവമാണ്.
അയാളോടൊരു ചോദ്യമേ ചോദിക്കാനുള്ളൂ,

"താനൊക്കെ എന്തിനാടോ പഠിപ്പിക്കുന്നെ?" 


Saturday, March 13, 2010

The Arrival

The Arrival

(dedicated to all pure souls in my University)

Someone says,
"He's coming."
Everyone's elated,
"He's coming? Wow!"
Someone else thinks,
"He's coming,
it's time for the great revolution."

"He's coming!"
Things change.
"Il va arriver!"
"Ayal varunnu!"
"Woh aa raha hein!"
New roads, black carpet for him.
"Athanu vasthaadu!"
Security alerts, identity cards.
"Er ist unterweg!"
Decorations in place, rest spotlessly burried.

It's time to wait for him.

We wait.

We waited.

We were waiting.

Now, the climax.....

'The flower pots are taken back.'

Yes, we were not waiting,
We were wasting.
'Sab Khel Hein...!'

Thursday, March 11, 2010

The Dictator

The Dictator

(Note: 'He' in the poem also includes 'She')

"I ran, water dripping from my face,

I had red eyes,
I saw the door, it was ajar,
I peeped inside.
The Eyes found me,
The Eyes beckoned me in.
I went in, obediently,
Sat in the chair.
Did I see a halo around His head?
No, It was just the play of morning light.

He, said, I heard.

He questioned, I couldn't answer.
He questioned again, I blabbered.
He shouted, I couldn't shout back.
He had his Weapon.
A Weapon which, He said,
Could destroy my future.
There were others as well,
Like me, sitting there,
As if in a trance.

Someone else came in,

With an 'I-shouldn't-be-here-but-no-choice' kind of

Third-worldish expression.

'You are late,' the Eyes said.
'Come in.'
The new comer was also forced in.

We, a bunch of scapegoats,
Sitting there,
We had no choice, for
He had the Weapon.

He had no charm,

He couldn't terrorise us,
He turns out to be boring at times,

Still we were glued there, for
We feared the weapon.

He had power over us,

He could blackmail us,

He could be called a Dictator,
'Attendance' being His greatest Weapon.
We all feared this Weapon.
Yes, He was our Professor!"

(Dedicated to all bored students who are in short of attendance.)

Monday, March 8, 2010

Communication Gap

Communication Gap

"Teacher says,
'Blah, blah, blah, blah,
Blah, blah, blah, blah,
Blah, blah, blah, blah,
Blah, blah, blah, blah...'
Student says,
'Blah, blah, blah, Zzz,
Blah, Zzz, blah, Zzzz,
Zzzz, Zzzz, blah, Zzz,
Zzzz, Zzzz, Zzzz, Zzzzzz'
I thank you, my dear professor, for
U inspired the poet in me,
'Guruve Namaha!' "

Saturday, March 6, 2010

About Me

My photo
does it matter who i am? everything is maya!