Cosmos In My Eyes

GAMES MIND PLAY

krsurendran — Thu, 29 Dec 2011 16:59:13 +0000

My thoughts rush in
like inflows to a reservoir
my thoughts follow
no pattern
thoughts unrelated to each other
enter my mind
a dime a dozen per minute
thoughts like monkeys
in a tree
jump from one branch to another.
The more I try
for a pattern to my thoughts
the more my efforts fail.
My moods swing frequently
sometimes silent
sometimes delight
sometimes anger
moody at other times
all because I am a humanbeing.

FOR FAVOURS RECEIVED

krsurendran — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 18:08:25 +0000

On the auspicious festival of
a X’mas day
a beggar came to my house
begging for something.
He was emaciated and rib-caged
clad in ragged clothes
his long flowing grey hair
and equally flowing long beard
with shining eyes
I saw Jesus in him.
I looked at him with
all respect and worship
gifted him with
a good feast,
a large piece of cake
some money and clothes.
I had an inkling that
perhaps Jesus must be
standing before me
in disguise of a beggar
to test my love of humanity
especially my attitude
towards the poor.
The old man was
heartened by my hospitality.
‘May God bless you’ – he told me
in an elated mood.
I was also delighted
by his words of blessing
and when he bid adieu
I felt somewhat sad.
The next week too
the same beggar came
to my house and stretched
his hands towards me
folding his hands.
The X’mas day dawned on me
and I said to myself
‘it is the same old man’.
I gave him just a coin.
Within no time
he threw it in my face
and spat on the floor
and cursed me
saying ‘you will go to hell’.
On hearing his mutterings
I couldn’t help
mocking myself.

AGONY OF SEPARATION

krsurendran — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 17:16:57 +0000

Confined to her room
she sat alone
lost in her thoughts
about him.
Neither did she
hear the hustle and bustle
of the city
nor she felt the
cool sea-breeze
blowing through the window.
For the last one month
life was a festival for her
he had come on vacation
and his love , care and affection
beyond words
their travels to Taj Mahal
the poem sculpted in marble
to Himalayan foothills
the scenic beauty while on tour
sight of great memorials
the celluloid poems
and much more
all she recalled
on thinking about him.
Once in two years
God has blessed her with
one month with him
and she prayed for
the days to follow
a zig-zag course
but to her horror she felt
the days were fast
running out.
To sit alone is something
unthinkable to her
and the moments with him
celestial moments
thus she felt.
What must be
he is doing now
might be sitting lost in her
thoughts
while travelling by train
to the frontier.
Her eyes brimmed
with tears and she felt
a lump in her throat.

BODY POLITIC

krsurendran — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 16:06:12 +0000

The body politic has been
paralysed through
a lethal injection
by a coterie of culprits
at the higher echelons
of the society
who were catapulted
to the top post
by we the citizens.
To purify,
rejuvenate and regain health
of the body politic
at the earliest
is long over due.
It is time to throw
out the culprits
enconsced at the top of the ladder
and entrust the rule
of the nation
with the men and women
of integrity.

HIS ROUTINE CHORES

krsurendran — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 16:53:14 +0000

My sun rises in the evening
soon after I wake up
my daily chores commence.
Facewash, toilet, tooth brush,
a clean shave and fresh bath.
Then make up, dressing and breakfast.
I proceed to the railway station
catch a local train to my
work place, my duty time commences
at nine ‘O’ clock.
Almost 8 hour duty and
soon after my return trip
to my apartment.
I slump into the bed
and wait for a deep slumber.
My sun sets in the morning
and let’s see in the evening.
Have a nice day.

THAT PARTICULAR DAY…..

krsurendran — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 18:49:14 +0000

Every year on a particular day
he flew in from the distant city
just to meet her
and to share his
joys with her.
Before proceeding to her city
once the city of both
he mobiled to her
about his arrival
and conveyed to her
where to meet and when to meet.
Every year their rendezvous
is the same place
a posh restaurant in a
posh locality of the city.
He over a bottle of beer
and she over a cup of tea
in the backdrop of western music
shared their experiences
during the one year gap.
This time too she anxiously waited
for his message with a thumping heart
before proceeding from his city.
But nowadays no message
is forthcoming from him
and her efforts to reach him
over the phone
proved futile
what all she heard was
the mobile to whom she was calling
has been switched off.
Her pain was beyond words
and her anxiety too
was gnawing.
Though not the message
didn’t reach her
on that particular day
she waited for him
for hours infront of the posh restaurant
where they used to meet
every year.
She recalled the last time
when both met
before bidding adieu to her
in the dim light of the restaurant
pressed his lips on hers
that was quiet unusual.
Tears trickled down her eyes
and both waved a happy good bye.
She knew not it was their last
sweet encounter.
Her mind was full of the
happy moments both enjoyed for long days
while he was in the city.

HIS IDENTITY

krsurendran — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 16:13:23 +0000

One day in broad daylight
four strangers came to
our flat
all well-built, sturdy, muscular
in their early thirties.
They wanted Idikula
who was inside the room
reading something.
I called him
he came out and
upon seeing the four
his face turned grim
like a dying flower.
He told them to
wait for some seconds
and after getting dressed
he came out.
I sat flabbergasted
and looked at him.
He didn’t say anything
but gave me a sad smile
and he told me
he would be back
by the evening.
He didn’t turn up in the
evening nor in the morning
evenings and mornings came
and went
but no sign of him so far.
Totally distressed
I went to the police station
to lodge a complaint
and the police wanted me
to have them Idikkula’s photo.
There was none left.
The police was helpless
and told me how come
without an identity
they could trace him
in a big city like this.
They added such missing
instances are common in the city.

SELFLESS SERVICE

krsurendran — Sat, 17 Dec 2011 17:44:55 +0000

Come to me, hey traveler
come to me.
You are always welcome
I shall protect you
from the burning summer heat.
The giant green umbrella that
I am
since centuries
protected and still
protecting
thousands of travelers who
who pass along the way
infront of me.
I have never demanded any reward
from them
and never will I demand
any reward.
This is my life-long mission
and this will continue to be my
life-long mission and
I will enable the
travelers who come to me
to enjoy my loving care
and comfort.
But I know
for sure
those who
enjoyed my love
care and protection
will turn my eliminators
in the long run.
The winds blowing
from afar convey the message
to me about the impending
danger to our ‘tribe’
in these modern times.
But it will never deter me
from continuing my
life-long mission of selfless service.

SILENT VOLCANOES

krsurendran — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 17:46:38 +0000

The city is an island
of volcanoes.
All fuming volcanoes
about to be erupted
anytime,
The volcanoes are
fuming but invisible
only when a volcano
erupts in the city
one comes to know about
it.
Every morning the news of
a volcano erupting
somewhere in the city
welcomes us
it could be one, two
or three
all unpredictable.
Last night
a volcano erupted in
our neighbour Banerji’s flat.
The fact that
he was a fuming volcano
we came to know
only when we saw the red
hot lava gushing forth
down his flat.
Existence of silent volcanoes
in the city
bothers us not these days.
These are strange times
you know…. ?

THE SINNER

krsurendran — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 16:21:44 +0000

Pile up your sins
in your backyard
set afire to them frequently
otherwise
a heavy backlog will be the result
never allow it to happen.
Pile up, set afire,
and go on committing sins
as long as you wish.