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

Comments

Returning Souvenirs

You say you can only offer friendship for my love, I say l don't want it. I want love, love in big forms, love that fills every atom around me, Love that challenges every equation. I thought you are the one, the one with whom they would define people. I'm just fine to ask you to return everything, Everything that I gave as souvenirs of my love, Which you received as a friend. Starting from my starings and nights waiting for your responses. I turned to be someone I was not, for you, I spent my time, analysing and making hypotheses on you. So return my brain cells used for that, the blood that rushed to my veins, Every time I saw you. I want my health and thoughts that I wasted for you, The souvenirs of my love. I have murdered my love for you, One fine night, I have buried the carcass of my love In the gardens of hopelessly wandering ghosts. The...

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 Ugly Duckling!

I was the ugly duckling you don't know. I built my own shelter inside my shell. I schemed it with hopes and dreams. But never had I knew that the shell has to be broken, Never had I tried. At times I heard someone knocking at my shell. Knock knock. But I didn't mind open. I kept on looking at my illuminated dreams and hopes. I feared the collapse of them with the shell opening. I sharpened my ears and listened to the voices outside. I heard someone laughing at me , someone sympathising, yet another sobbing. None minded to break my shell. I was comfortable and cozy inside , I slept tight. But they said I lacked something. What was it? I didn't know. Day by day the hopes and dreams increased. I should find space to occupy some more. At times I bullied myself. And made my shell more strong. I longed to see the world outside, But something prevented me and the shell was still closed. They called me ugly, coward, and many more names, my shel...

THE FORGOTTEN STORIES

Search This Blog