BEFORE YOU GO RELENTLESSLY TO SLEEP

Before you go relentlessly to sleep,
Bid goodbye to the songs of dusk,
The tangible lights of wisdom that made your day.
Feed your appetite with the the ambrosial food of understanding.
See,the galore of rivers stop for your gratitude,
While the pebbles inside conspire to resume the flow.
The cuckoo conducts a symphony with the autumn flowers,
setting the stage for your thanksgiving ceremony.
Let your heart sinks into the dawn of the day,
To mark the victories and failures of your day.
Humble your stature where arts bid farewell to philosophy,
where waters of humanity put out the selfish forest fires.
The prayers of farmers and the drowsiness of clerks,stretches their day and
When the Spirits of loneliness haunt them,
They seek for some Elysian fields from the days of yore.
And when the day is at its verge of death,
I go out to the fields to collect the berries,
To keep in the shrine of my heart of hearts.
Dancing with gratitude, i sing like a nightingale, and
There i go Where my blankets meet the darkness,
Inside of which two big tear drops fall down my cheeks,
Aiming the hamlet of heartaches.

A.C

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THE DREAMCATCHER ( A Poem)

She tried. And made the hoops from willows to wove those magical webs. Wrapped the hoop with suede lacing. The string was woven onto the hoop. Hours passed. She wove some of her favourite decorations to it. Feathers and gemstones, hidden with meanings. Hours passed. But she wanted it to be perfect. And finally, here it is. THE DREAMCATCHER. She hung it on her bedroom wall and watched it carefully. Rubbed it with an artist's pride. The hoop smiled, ensuring the travel of sun through the mighty sky. She thought that when night comes the hole in the center would only let Bawedjige( good dreams)pass. She would be able to sleep safe and sound today. The nightmares will never ever haunt her. For she has her Dreamcatcher. And Bawedjigewin( bad dreams) will be trapped in the web, to be dispelled at the first light of morning. She slept. The sun rays pierced into her eyes. She opened her eyes with the innocence of a newborn babe. The thought stroke...

#17

Everytime there came a music from the old devastated house on the hilltop.It wasn't jazz or melody or rap or opera. It sounded the broken soul. The long lost soul set to dwindle and shrink in solitude.Sewed into melancholy and dresssed in rhapsody,the hilltop triumphed over the hurricane of that season.And the music from the house gradually faded away,to welcome the next season. A.C

Revising Utharam: The Weight of Forgotten Truths

I think more than ghost stories, most people are afraid of the unknown. The unknown when transforms into a more fearful truth can devastate a person’s entire existence. V.K Pavithran’s 1989 movie Utharam is based on Daphne Du Maurier’s short story “No Motive”. It follows Balu’s quest to uncover the truth behind the mysterious and unexpected suicide of Leena, his best friend Mathew’s wife and someone he considers family. Balu’s investigative skills as a journalist lead him to some strange and unexpected revelations about Leena’s past. He discovers that Leena had a completely different personality and a shocking, forgotten history. Despite being a generous person and loving wife of Mathew, Leena lived a seemingly perfect life, content and unaware of her repressed memories. Her life as a poet and a loving partner to Mathew appeared nothing short of perfection. Yet one fine day she decided to take her life in the spur of the moment. Unlike most mystery movies ...

THE FORGOTTEN STORIES

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