Ruins: Mist of memories

Like the stones of Machu Picchu, this is a place of wonder, the sprouted greenness cues the remains of memories, out of my memories they bushed sticking together, and they were echoing our lores, lores of our memories.
A home away from my home, now in ruins, now the sun, wind, rain, and moon passed through them like a gentleman because gentlemen and ladies of this home are uprooted to their new abode.
My Aunt’s home, my great great Grand Uncle’s home. Kinship was weaved like creepers in the forest, I always fell down while trying to excavate it. This is Chandrapuram (Moonlit Abode), my fixed memory saw the hustle and bustle of this house. Every day, I saw my cousins running through the backdoor, like gushing water, to school. This was my morning scene, which was part of my life.
This house was also a complaint and redressal cell, whenever my mother and grandma found a problem they ran to this house, and leaning on the backdoor they poured their angst to my aunt. Every day when my aunt came back from work, my sister and I use to flee there as it was the time for our second evening hot chai and snacks. My tongue still ruminates the taste of puffs, noodles, Dosa whenever I look to that ruined crumples of stones. All these are common, but sitting under that thatched roof, eating, and watching Shaktiman episodes never comes back.
Now there is no hustle and bustle there, no second time hot chai and Shaktiman, moreover my mom started to gulp her complaints as there is no backdoor to lean again. My aunt, uncle, and cousins left this place leaving good memories. Sometimes I feel like voices echoing through the crumpled stone remains. My mind craves for another call from there


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The Missing reader

Drenched in the years of sleep

The old library smelt of memories

Array of lives compressed in a cube

I felt like people are trying to come out to breathe.

Webbed pages, smudged lines, lined passages

My fingers loosened the old order

Some of them longed there for my touch

Some with page markers grabbed my attention

I took one out disturbing their long slumber

For the past many years

Romeo was standing below the balcony

Waiting for his Juliet

I could feel his pain

Which Shakespeare never


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To the Historian and Writer who amazed me with his ‘Ivory Throne’.

Yesterday I got a chance to meet Mr. Manu. S Pillai (author of Ivory Throne and The Rebel Sultans). I am a die-hard fan of him. His portrayal of history has got a unique spell, which binds the reader like a skein in the fabric. I got to know him from my friend Sreedevi.R, who is also a die hard fan of him. And for both of us yesterday was one of the best days. It was really a dream come true moment for us. And out of that excitement I wrote a short poem bowing towards his humbleness and sea of knowledge which I would like to share here.

You were floating in the air above me

Like an unknown mystery.

I dragged you towards me
You were far above the horizon.

Thanks to my friend
Who put you in words for me.
You rained words of history
Which made up my day’s story.
I carried the magnetic words which you spoke

stuck inside the hard cover in my hand.

To get an imprint from the fingers
Which carry the spell of history in its tips.

My Dream City 3

At last at 4:00 we reached Panvel station. My uncle, aunty and cousin were waiting there for us at the station. When I stepped out I was pulled back because the station was fully crowded and suddenly there was so much rush. Some were searching for their beloved ones, some were hugging each other. Their happiness made me so happy but I forgot to hug my naughty cousin and my uncle and aunty. They took our luggage and rushed through the crowd. I never understood why they were rushing like that. It seemed to me like they were going to attend some interview. I was trying to catch up with them. When I came out the folks of Mumbai were busy over their evening chores but their face seemed so different to me unlike the people I saw in my hometown. Yes, the trace of fatigue was there in their face but still there was glimpses of hope, happiness and courage which I felt only Mumbai can offer them. My uncle and cousin, It seems to me so odd to repeat cousin, feels like I am telling about a stranger. He is Gokul, ‘goku’. So Goku and uncle kept everything inside the car. Actually we have so many relatives in Mumbai who are very close to us. My first trip was to my aunt’s house. She is my dad’s cousin sister. But the saddest part was that she was going to leave Mumbai forever and my dad’s cousin brother who accompanied us in the journey came to take her back. I was thinking why she was doing such a mistake. She has spent better half of her time in this city. And I know today she is repenting inside her for taking that decision. When we reached her flat my sister and I took a bathe and took a cup of tea which was more refreshing. Her flat was really beautiful and organized. I just drew the curtain apart and looked behind the plain glass, I was able to see life full of vibe, again I felt a deep sorrow when I thought that my aunt was going to leave these beautiful sights which could never make her feel lonely and I was also sad because if I come back here next time I wouldn’t be able to sip the tea by looking out at the romantic city light. After that by dropping my dad’s cousin brother and her wife at aunt’s place we went straight to my uncle’s place at Koproli. Goku was really happy, he has cleaned his room and cupboards to make us comfortable. And my first day in Mumbai ended like that without allowing me to think anything because I was feeling really tired. But I was really excited to see what Mumbai has kept for her foster child.


My Dream City 2

When the day came I was little bit nervous. I was thinking what if my expectations about the dream city becomes just a fantasy. Mom and dad were not coming with us. We were sent with my dad’s cousin and my Dad’s younger brother was working there in Mumbai and we were going there for the whole month. Everything was making my stomach upset. When I heard the whistling of Kochuvelli express I felt so strange, I felt like cancelling this journey and going back home because I wanted to keep Mumbai always inside my dream. When the dream was going to be true I was sad and happy at the same time. So at last keeping all my fear and doubts aside we stepped inside the train. I just looked to my sister’s face. She was super excited and happy. Her face shone like a full moon. And atlast the train started from Thalassery (kerala) station to Mumbai on 4th April 2014, towards my dream. I felt like that was the longest day of my life. I was unable to sleep, while my sister slept so peacefully without any fear because I was with her. On next morning when I woke up, I was so relieved, we had our breakfast, idli and chutney that my dad’s cousin and his wife has bought. They were continuously talking to us to make us comfortable. But to be frank I was not fully listening to them fully because I didn’t want to miss the sight outside which was taking me nearer and nearer to my dream city. In gobsmack I watched everything like a small kid, the houses, change in their patterns and architecture. I tried to memorise name of some stations Madgoa, Ratnagiri, etc… we were expected to reach there at 3:30 P.M, when the time passed my heart was beating morethan like anything. The train was running half an hour late.