A dream of form in days of thought

If you don't remember, then what was the point?
Of the beginning and its ends

Of greedy hearts and tender thoughts

Of nights of moon and promise of stars

Of baby dreams and solid grounds

Of silent questions and answered kisses

Of taste of hunger and pleads for quiet
Of stolen wishes and empty verses
Of woes of gay and depths of faith
Of washed up desires and chosen poison
Of tales of burdock and minnows and elephants
Of honest haunts and bloodied silence
Of the short truth and longer shadow
Of anything from here back to the top
If you can't forget, then what was the point?

whatchamacallit?

அடர்ந்த காடு. தனிமையில்,

துணைதேடி ஒரு பூமரம்.

பார்க்க வந்த ராஜன் வியந்தான்.

இது கலை! இது  காவியம்!

பலவாறு புகழ்ந்தான் .

மேலும் அழகாய் ஆக்க வியைந்தான்.

இலைகளின் சரசரப்பு இரைச்சலை வெறுத்தான்.

கிளைகள் ஆடம்பரம் எனக் களைந்தான்.

குளிர் நிழல் பொழுதுக்கும் தேவையில்லையே!

பொருளின்றி காயும் தண்டு  வீணென்று வெட்டினான்

“இதனால் நான் நானாக இல்லாமலே போவேனே!

இவ்வாறு புண்ணாக்கி இத்-தையல் தேவையா”?

கேட்ட மரத்திடம்: "ஒப்பற்று இருப்பாய்

நான் கலைஞன்,  நம்பு என வருத்தினான் !"

உயர்ந்து காற்றில் ஆடிய மரம்,

அமர்ந்து கதை பேசும் மேடை ஆனது.

கற்பனையா , மிகும்  காவியமா  என்று அறிஞர்கள்  விவாதிக்க

பேதமையே,வெறும்  சோதனையே  என்று  கிறுக்கர்கள்  கெஞ்சினார்கள்.

தன் விதி  நிலை  வெறுத்த  மரத்திடம்

ஒரு  பூச்செண்டு கொடுத்து;

"நான் என்ன செய்தேன், இன்னும்

உன்  வேர்  உன்னிடம் தானே  கேட்டான்"!

எதனால் ஏமாற்றம், எதற்குப்  பழி என்றான்!

Stream of consciousness

The metronome of the chirping cricket pierces the serenity of the drip drop of the flowing water. Surprisingly, it's not annoying. Its interlude is in fact quite ... amalgamating? Is that a word? One side of the four petals of the fountain is flowing short, she notices. Following that thought comes another thought, which is, that, it’s quite brilliant she can make up the petal analogy for the flowing sides of the fountain. There isn’t anyone who is going to know that! There is a light in the far away window. It had earlier painted a nauseatingly domestic picture of a family having dinner, laughing and burping and sharing days’ worth of missed words! She turns her head away from that. There is a slight movement near the bush… probably frogs or something sinister that has been making the wheezing sound. A garden snake slithers into the fountain lake. It could be a light twig moving in the wind. Said wind carries the tantalizing aroma of drying grass settling down for the sultry night of promising rain. Its quiet erotic if one is into that sort of thing! Sprawling further comfortably on the dry lawn she turns her head heaven wards! Heaven ward! Again, nice phrasing! Is that light that’s twinkling far to the west some bright star...probably Venus or simply just a tower with blinky light?
Ah, who cares!
Ti-ting announces the sound. The first thing that pops in the mind "I'm not going to talk every again!" makes her chuckle. Like a drunken promise, I-won’t-talk-again has been broken many number of times that it has become a reflex to think that with every sigh.

Hey, she says wearily with all intentions to avoid talking.

Hi, comes a sort of bored automatic response!

This breaks the wont-talk idea into smithereens and brings the gruff reply; I have heard all that you have say.

And yet, and yet..

Time lapses into the sort of silence which precariously balances on the weak one's will to keep it together.

Maybe I’am the problem

Hmm. Maybe!

DON'T start!

On comes the complicated roll of eyes

This time it’s the other one who plays the card

The things you take for granted someone else is praying for.

Uh! rolls in the downward turn of the lips. Not exactly what I asked for.

You don’t know the end game

What do I care about the end? Don’t like the current play

You know, giving up is easy

Now! I have heard this bullshit from many people many times. It’s not about a moment’s mad decision. It is a culmination of a millions of indecisions having no point to play

The fountain flows fracturedly into the windy night

Look around you, look at the beauty, says the tiny Voice of the Head!

It'd still be beautiful tomorrow.

You don’t know that.

I don’t have to.

If you don’t like what you have, try and change it.

What if trying is what is killing you.

Don’t be dramatic. It will definitely be alright!

You know, everyone needs a purpose in life. Something to hold on to – a faith. A reason. A finger. A hope. Atleast. Something.

I think you like being this way

No. And that’s the point

Isn’t there no fight left in you.

I still have you. Annoyingly! But what else is the point. Fight and then fight some more! Where is the peace!

Peace is when you want it.

Exactly.

The last light in the far away curtain goes off for the night. Symbolic, that is.

Until the morrow!

LiveTweetingVayKay

Starting this series..

..to keep a log of gyans that udhith during vacation that when said out loud or in a more popular (ahem!!) space would have people doubling their eye -rolls and not so subtly shifting away!!

So dear non-existant reader..today you get to be the hero.and.the audience!!

#LiveTweetingVayKay

Just saying,starting this series.

The Old King's Fool from Sonnet 155

I need to be able to write a write-up for this wonderful song. But all I can think of is, if you would just hear it you would know what I feel. The Shakespearean tragedy cried out by the violin... the subtle interlude of passionate memories holding on to the what-was and what-could-have-been...vague thinkings of is it Music or is it the Voice...all performed live. What more? Well, go on Ache with my heart
P.S: This is my interpretation of the lyrics; and as always I hear what I want to hear... So it might not be what Tim intended!

LEAR

Does any here know me? Why, this is not Lear.
Doth Lear walk thus? Speak thus?
Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discerning’s are lethargied.
Ha, (sleeping or) waking?
(Sure), ’tis not so.
Who is it that can tell me who I am?

FOOL

Lear’s shadow.

Memories all around!
Keep them from disappearing
Pretending to yourself
You've seen the last of them
But, it all comes together
all you can do is try
to hurt each other less
to hurt each other less
to hurt each other ...less

CORDELIA

Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
According to my bond; nor more nor less.

LEAR

How, how, Cordelia! Mend your speech a little,
Lest it may mar your fortunes.

King! He held a fool
Like Love was holding you
Sleeping in his arms
Weeping till the dawn
We're all in disguise!
Will we have to say our love
if we hurt each other less
and hurt each other less
and hurt each other ...less

CORDELIA

Good my Lord,
You have begot me, bred me, loved me:
I return those duties back as are right fit,
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
Why have my sister's husbands, if they say they love you all?
Haply, when I shall wed,
That Lord whose hand must take my plight
shall carry half my love with him, half my care and duty:
Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, to love my father all.

Storms followed by summer sun
burning colors coming down
The Circle never ends
Wheels are turning in
'Cause we shared another room
The walls are blues and gray!
When we hurt each other less
we hurt each other less

LEAR

But goes thy heart with this?

CORDELIA

Ay, my good lord.

LEAR

So young, and so untender?

CORDELIA

So young, my lord, and true.

When we hurt each other less
we hurt each other less

LEAR

Why, thou wert better in a grave than to answer with thy
uncover'd body this extremity of the skies?
Is man no more than this?
Consider him well.
Thou ow'st the worm no silk
the beast no hide, the sheep no wool
the cat no perfume!
Ha! Here's three on's are sophisticated!
Thou are the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more
but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.
Come, off, you lendings!
Come, unbutton here.