My Life in Sky and in Guruvayoor

The bicycle.

I force it circular

But it moves ahead.

My dreams.

I colour them.

But appear always in nights

In the backdrop of the darkness.

Life in the sky

Spaceless.

My days

My walks

All in Guruvayoor

No match.

Even though I force

My pedals circular.

Move ahead. The bicycle.

photo courtesy: sangeeth sivan

WILD SANCTUARY

m. faizal

It was a grey rainy day

We set about to see the wild.

Chirping birds

Waving leaves

Greenish rain on oily shone foliages

All we were passing through the caged corridor

Safe spectators!

In the groves, deer

Behind the rocks,tigers

In the trees,apes

Beside the bamboos,elephants

With strange looking,bisons.

Our caged path led us to

The dark interior

Through the wild domain.

Night’s dark polythene

Laminated the smoky-green

After the sun’s fall.

At the exit near the threshold

Nervously we cried out to

The momentarily growing panic,

For it was heavily locked.

Outside the passage

Beasts were gazing at us

Playfully in the frozen night.

Night moved like a reptile’s stretch

Excreting a metamorphic air.

We remained as the blind refugees.

In the bright dawn

Horns of my companions

Poked me to wake up.

They pulled my tail

To tickle me.

Outside our caged passage

Political animals crowded

With their bulls-eye looking.

Our cage moved to the

Openness of the public’s cockfight.

My Spring

Brooms grown to sky
Sweep the wind.
I walk back.
Home in clouds.
Seemed to me stranger.
Night falls.
Wet meadows
Call me back.
Silhouette tamarind
Waves me
Back to years.
Here rests
My spring,
My seasons.
Me.

Within

Isolated in crowd
You.
In search of me
Your eyes.
But you
A sea within.

MEMORIALS
1.River

Rain
Green leaves
Branches
Roots
Bluish panorama of wilderness
Fragrant herbs
Giggling streams
Its childish skipping
Youthful bosom basin
Green creepers on the bank.
Excited and wept
Merges with the sea in salty tears.
All are old stories
-Today, remains broken bridge,
The memorial of river.



2.Hill

Above the sea, below the sky
Wet in seasons
Like a gloomy tree in winter
Or reflecting sunshine.
Woods wrapped hilltop
Steep ups, steep downs
Black rocks
Creepers in serpent’s crawl in humus.
Engined carriers to remove earth’s layers.
Grumbling land levelers,
Excavators with proboscis.
Greedy men their invasions.
Its wounds,
Growing wounds to vacuum
-This stone,
The memorial of hill.

3. Forest

Opened the eyes to the sky in the wet air
Holding head and branches high, watchful trees.
Adorned by flora, the vales.
Melodious rhapsody of jungle’s heart.
Medicinal herbs
Reptile’s creep
Snarling tigers
Roaring lions…
Sweetly warbling birds
Butterflies as flowers
Then come wood-cutter’s teeth
Green blood stained saws
Trunks loaded trucks
Neatly cut wounds
Their piteous and silentious rings.
Bloody wheel tracks.
-This fossil,
The memorial of forest.

WILD SANCTUARY
m. faizal

It was a grey rainy day
We set about to see the wild.
Chirping birds
Waving leaves
Greenish rain on oily shone foliages
All we were passing through the caged corridor
Safe spectators!
In the groves, deer
Behind the rocks,tigers
In the trees,apes
Beside the bamboos,elephants
With strange looking,bisons.
Our caged path led us to
The dark interior
Through the wild domain.
Night’s dark polythene
Laminated the smoky-green
After the sun’s fall.
At the exit near the threshold
Nervously we cried out to
The momentarily growing panic,
For it was heavily locked.
Outside the passage
Beasts were gazing at us
Playfully in the frozen night.
Night moved like a reptile’s stretch
Excreting a metamorphic air.
We remained as the blind refugees.
In the bright dawn
Horns of my companions
Poked me to wake up.
They pulled my tail
To tickle me.
Outside our caged passage
Political animals crowded
With their bulls-eye looking.
Our cage moved to the
Openness of the public’s cockfight.

UNTITLED LIFE

He tried to compose a poem
Of the moment of blossoming flowers.
But thorns remained in the paper.
Before sleep at night,
Longed for an apple.
But, outside, in the street
Sprang the cry of orphans
With expectation he received
A mail from postman
But, It was the intimation
Of withheld result of examination.
But in the poem composed
Remains the market rate
Of green grocery.
Tried to cry,
But, Not a single tear came out.
_For it was the time of famine of salt.

Manushyaputhran( S. Abdul Hameed)
Tamil Life
TAMIL
The doorbells
don’t work
but no one goes away.
These one-and-a-half years
with no latch on the bathroom door
have endangered
no one’s privacy.
The broken leg of this chair
will not insult a guest,
only slightly imbalance him.
I have been travelling
in this god-protected city
in a vehicle without brakes
for a week.
That pain
at the base of the stomach,
somewhere to the left,
comes often these days.
If I sleep at a particular angle for a while
I can manage.
There is a lot
to be set right
everywhere.
Even so,
uncomplicated
is Tamil life.

Close to My Heart
URDU
Tarannum Riyaz
Your hockey stick, your computer
are both silent in your room
your bed utterly smooth, not a wrinkle
your table neat and orderly, every thing in place
and on the floor, in a corner, a pair of sandals,
undisturbed, dumb
For the sake of your future
I somehow forced myself to send you away
but right from the day you left
this lonely heart, these anguished eyes
have been pining for your return
Oh, come, do come
and turn everything upside down again in this orderly room
turn on the music as high and loud as you like
create whatever rumpus you will
but let me feel your presence in the house
I shall hold you close to my heart
and never scold you again