ഇനിയും..

ഇനിയും...

ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും...

പോണ്‍ സൈറ്റുകളിലെ പെർഫെക്റ്റ്‌ പെണ്ണുടലുകളിൽ നിന്ന് നീ

എന്റെ അപൂർണ്ണ നഗ്നതയിലേയ്ക്ക് തിരിച്ചു വരുന്നത്,

 ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും...

ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും...

നിന്റെ സ്വർഗ്ഗങ്ങളിലേക്ക്

ഭൂമിയിലെ എന്റെ കൊച്ചു വസന്തങ്ങൾ വിരുന്നു വരുന്നത്,

ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും...

നിന്റെ ഇഴയുന്ന കണ്ണുകളുടെ തിളക്കം

എന്റെ നന്മകളിലേക്ക് മാത്രം പതിയുന്നത്,

ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും...

നിന്റെ കവിതകൾ എന്റെ അവകാശമാകുന്നത്

നിന്റെ രഹസ്യങ്ങൾ എന്റെ ഹൃദയത്തിന്റെ

ചൂടു തേടി വരുന്നത്, 

ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും...

ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും...

പറയാതെ നീയെന്നെ അറിയുവാൻ,

നീറുന്ന നൊമ്പരത്തണലു തിരയുവാൻ,

ഒരു കുളിരിന്റെ തുരുത്തായ്

എന്നെ നീ വേർതിരിക്കുന്നതിന്,

ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും...

എന്റെ യാഥാർഥ്യങ്ങളുടെ നേരിലെ

പ്രണയം നുകരുവാൻ നീയെത്തുന്ന

നിറമുള്ള ചിറകുകൾ,

ഇനിയും ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കും....

ഉടലോളം മാത്രം വലിപ്പത്തിൽ നിന്ന്

ഉയിരോളം നീ ഉയരുന്നത്,

അവിടെ ഞാനൊരു നീരുറവയായ്

നീയോളം നീളുന്നത്.

;)

അങ്ങനെയൊക്കെയാണ്

ദൈവമുണ്ടായിരുന്നെങ്കിലെന്നു

ഞാൻ കൊതിച്ചു പോകുന്നത്!

മാറ്റങ്ങൾ

കവിത തിരിച്ചു വരുന്നുണ്ടോ  എന്നൊരു സംശയമുണ്ട് .  ചിലപ്പോ വീണ്ടും വിട്ടു പോകാനാകും. എന്നാലും...എഴുതുമ്പോൾ എന്തെന്നില്ലാത്ത ഒരാശ്വാസം. എങ്കിലും എത്ര എഴുതിയാലും തീരാത്ത, എത്ര എഴുതിയാലും ശരിയാവാത്ത എന്തോ ഒന്നുണ്ട് മനസ്സിൽ. അതവിടെക്കിടന്ന് ശ്വാസം മുട്ടിക്കുന്നു.  ജീവിതത്തിലെ വലിയൊരു തെറ്റിനെ ശരിയാക്കാനുള്ള വെമ്പൽ മാത്രമാണിപ്പോഴുള്ളത് .  അത് ആരെയൊക്കെ വേദനിപ്പിക്കും എന്ന് പോലും എനിക്ക് ആലോചിക്കാൻ കഴിയുന്നില്ല. അഥവാ  കഴിഞ്ഞാലും എനിയ്ക്കത് ഒരു പ്രതികാരത്തിന്റെ  സുഖം നൽകുന്നുണ്ടെന്നു തോന്നും ചിലപ്പോ.  Sadism? May be.

motherhood!!!!!!!!!!

Finally i too became a mother. I am experiencing the joy, depression, anxiety, fear and diffidence associated with motherhood.....i dont know how to explain it.  may be i can do it later sometimes.  I just want to experience these complex moments completely.

MOMMY RETURNS :)

The number on the screen of my phone made my heart skip a beat.  it was my home number.  who could be that other than my mother!  i didnt let it complete one ring.  there was the same sweet musical motherly voice from the other side, like a girl ringing up a lover with fear and anxiety.   it was more than a year since i heard her talking...and that voice thrilled me, filled my heart with the perfect happiness, and she also seemed happy, though she seemed afraid of the consequences of the call, and worried about my health and well being. but she didnt ask anything about him.  i wish she had.  i want her to love him just like she loves me.  he deserves all her love, i am sure.  and i thought he would be surprised if ever he meets my mom.  he might never have met someone so loving as her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   and i expect the next call even though i didnt ask when that would be, i didnt even ask if she would ever call me again. anyway, i didnt want to put her in trouble and i thought it would be better if i dont encourage her much by asking about the next call.  for a moment i knew how lucky i am, because i have my mom, afterall, and she is someone i never wanted to miss on earth and heaven and in the births yet to come.

Memories and THE Strange Reality

     At times, i think of the week before my marriage. It surprises me now that i was so lonely that time and so sad and still so patient and tough. I silently said goodbye to all my dear ones at home, not looking i
nto their eyes, for i was a coward. Didn't have to look at achan's face since he has stopped looking at me, months,may be years before. And amma, as always , looked at me till i disappeared in the road looking down.  she was waiting there on the long veranda and looked anxiously at the bus into which i escaped. I can still see those eyes looking at me from somewhere far yet near.  at my working place i was busy that week buying ornaments and clothes for my wedding. I was alone when i went to buy my wedding sari.  My mind was not confused or troubled. But then in the shop, i saw two groups of people  who were there to buy wedding saris for their daughters. And i really had a hard time keeping my eyes clear and dry.  It was not my loneliness which burnt my skin but the happiness of the relatives of the future brides. For a moment, i didn't know if i could stand there any longer.  Then i thought i would not have loved this 'ritual' of buying saris if i were to be married in the 'accepted' way. It was unnecessary sentiment,i tried to tell myself.  And i became the old practical woman again.  I bought everything i needed to live with in a strange place.  And the shop keeper looked strange, because he might never have thought i had to purchase for a wedding, and i smiled at the thought of his (possible) strange feeling. And everything seemed normal! I had one or two bags full of things to begin the journey. just before 'that' day, i thought of telling my housemate about what is to be expected. if she were there, i might have told. But she was not there, and every moment in the house seemed like an year. I didn't feel like having something. I tried to avoid all thoughts of my family. And for the first time, i felt that it was the girls who elope are the saddest compared to the parents. Guilt, helplessness, loneliness, uncertainty, fears of all the imminent dangers, nightmares......and what not.  I didn't expect anything about my future. i was never in a position to dream about a beautiful future.  I just thought everything would be alright.  I was the saddest on the day of my marriage.  the only thing that gave me some peace of mind was the deity inside the temple...Lord Krishna. v got married in front of krishna, just as i wished (rather,insisted).   And after that marriage, i was happy only for 2 weeks!!!!!!!  I hate to be the suffering,yet loving wife, and i chose life instead of death, and that life grows inside me.  I am quite surprised now that i am content with my life. As long as he keeps his secrets, i wont be a happy partner, yet i would love to love him till the end of my life. and this ME quite shocks me because i never thought i can be all this and not all that i thought i was. Life is very strange, indeed.

DEJA VU

Just a window away

the wind meowing through the leaves

into the hollow of a heart

the lilacs dreaming time away

and i am through with the wines

which grow around my body

to become the orchard

i longed a while ago

and loathed after the hour 

when blessings poured out of my glass.

the lost seasons cried in my halo.

A Long Poem on Love by an Eternal Beggar

Love,

come with me to the heaven

where fallen maple leaves pacify

the heart of the hurt.

Love, 

read me the poem of your heart

which you have never shared

with the loves of your life

Love, 

write your best poem

with my head on your lap

and thank me with a kiss.

Love,

tell the story of your life

as if I can read it all 

without 

fears,doubts and conclusions.

Love,

appease me with an embrace

in the darkest of nights

when you are deep in sleep.

Love,

sleep on me like a child

when the fearful rains

pour on us like sins.

Love,

come to play with me

on the shore of my rhymes

where intruders hesitate.

Love,

give me the odours of life

which were alien to me

till the day u rained on me.

Love,

take me with you

on those solitary winter walks

like you can't part with me.

Love,

share your secrets with me

as if you trust me with

your most precious and vicious moments.

Love,

trust me

I have fallen in love

trust me

I have grown a slave

trust me

I have learnt to forget

trust me

I am prepared to forgive

trust me 

I need nothing but love

trust me

you should trust me

or I would be an eternal dreamer

waiting to be loved

till 

you become the truth of my life
and not the lie of my fears.

Servitude

your brooks,
the solitude of your eyes,
the velvet of your hands,
the black woods against me

the thorns of desire passified
a downward flow of invisible fountains
the deceiving voices from the blue vastness
most dead, i bleed and wake up

waiting
like a lonely child on a holiday
with nothing to cling on to
and nothing to allure the stoneheart
no bird, no animal, no heaven.

the holy mysteries yet to come
from echos of the last pain

Light reminds me of
the joy of the shipwrecked
who landed safe on the land of love
and killed her very kindly and cried
as if he has done something wrong

the brooks
the solitude
the hands
the woods

i am still a slave

Love

Im happy that mom sends small  messages of love  :)  And brother too.............  :)  And I'm sad that achan is still angry :(

ഇപ്പോഴും

ദൂരെ നീ നോക്കിയിരുന്നിടത്തേക്ക്

അടുത്ത് നീ ചിരിക്കും നിഴലിലേക്ക് 

എനിക്കറിയില്ല എത്ര കാലം

നീയില്ലാത്ത എന്നെയും

ഞാനില്ലാത്ത നിന്നെയുമാണ്‌

ഓരോ കണ്ണുനീർത്തുള്ളിയിലും
ഞാൻ സങ്കൽപ്പിച്ചെടുക്കുന്നത്  

ഉറങ്ങാതെ കിടക്കുന്ന ഓരോ നിമിഷങ്ങളിലും
 മനസ്സ് പിടയുന്നത്
ഇപ്പോഴും അടുക്കാനാവാതെ പോകുന്നത്
ഇനിയെങ്ങനെയൊക്കെ എന്നത്

പിന്നെയെപ്പോഴോ
ഇതൊക്കെയാണ് ജീവിതം
എന്ന് സമാധാനിക്കുന്നത്

ആരോ മനസ്സിലിരുന്നു
വിളിച്ചു പറയുന്നുണ്ട്

വിഡ്ഡിയാണെന്നും അല്ലെന്നും!

Diffidence

I know that i would be a bad mother.  I am not even sure if i need a boy or a girl. When i am deeply in love with him, i know that i need this child.  It had been in my thoughts and prayers years before marriage and during the years of loving him.  Now i am confused.  How will i, who hates rain, teach my child how beautiful the rain is?  How will i, who is like a fish on the shore, tell the child that the world is beautiful?  How will i who is unable to love life myself, teach my child that she should be in love with life?  How can i, who has lost all hopes of 'eternal love' stories tell my child stories of innocence and love? I don't even know what songs to sing to her, because its a long time since i have lost all my songs.  Now that i exist and not exist, now that i love and not love, now that i have lost everything in my soul and am deadly alone...how will i look after a child, and love it and pray for it, and live for it?  Anyway, there is him and i wish the child would be happy with him even if i am not there anymore...................

Things You Will Never Understand

Just when i wanted to come back
They too returned,
It was like a wound forced open
Only to see it is not healed.

He was storm and  breeze
He was the wound and the cure
He was nothing and everything

Every step slipped
As if there is nothing called memory.
Once surprised by retreating memories
A body stood there alone in the night.

It was then i wanted to go back,
surrounded by appooppanthaadis,
My left foot in life,
And the right rightly in death.

Fragmented theories of hope
rising out of pages of my diary
where the missing pages
talked about rivers never existed.

He was there
Sleeping beside me
Like he knows nothing

I looked and looked
untill my eyes slept
and dreamt of his hands
slipping into my heart
and dreamt of his eyes
sipping into my words.

I trusted him.