Synergy

Thanks to Sunday muse for this amazing visual prompt!  

A stitch in time

Saves nine

Then

Three stitches should be fine

To claim what is mine.

Us.

 

2 Equal halves

From different hemispheres

A tectonic shift

Perpetrated by a single thread

A simple yes.

 

An apple a day

The adam and eve way

Keeps us healthy and gay.

 

The harder I tug

Stronger the hug

The prickly institution

needles us now and then

A needed constitution

It keeps us grounded and in zen.

 

 

 

Writing a wrong

For the PU prompt ‘ to write about a time when we realized we were wrong about something, and what we did after the realization hit us.’

I thought I was making the right choice

At that time

You ticked all the boxes 

on paper 

Soon 

I was boxed into a corner 

Crushed by your corny love 

Heck I wasn’t even horny no more.

I decided to sleepwalk through life

If I opened my eyes truly

We both knew 

This would be already over 

You lovingly blindfolded me 

I loathingly cuckolded you. 

I woke up one day 

And decided to live the truth 

Consequences be damned 

I still remember your cries

As I sunk into my sofa 

We were away by so far

Yes

I never deserved this 

Kind of love 

But you said 

I’m incapable of love

Called me a robot 

The only time you spoke your mind 

Was when I was leaving you behind. 

I bleed too.

I’m thriving now

Hope you are too 

All that angst

 

The Scream by Edvard Munch

Mood - I don't wanna be by Gavin DeGraw

I studied the Geography of the room I lived in,

Every crevice and corner

Couldn’t comfort me enough.

I kept wanting more

How much is really enough?

How big do you want your cage to be?

Animal size?

Room size?

Street Size?

Earth Size?

WE will always feel imprisoned,

if that is what we truly want to be.

We will always wish to be a bird

Only to be greeted with its turd.  

We are bound by certain chains

Which makes us human,

Why not wear it as the jewel

It possibly is

Rather than choke ourselves

With all that angst?

By 

Samyuktha Semi Jayaprakash

The lines we crossed

Clenching till
My molar broke
And puss pour
Still biting down the pain
Of the secrets of yesterday

A peerless phantom
An invisible limp
The line you cross to know me

She shrugged.
A sardonic hmph
Was what my secret amounted to.

Felt relieved & reviled simultaneously somehow!
What now?

Black and white beauty

 Written for poet and storyteller’s united’s ‘beloved companions’ prompt.

This one is about my furry friend Laika ❤️

Paati means grandmom in tamil.

Amorous Ashes

 

This post is dedicated to Deepika who has been a constant pillar of support. Thanks for always helping me painstakingly - be it my blog or love life or buying the right gift. You're the best! 

A Repressed soul

Shouting from inside no more.

I exude confidence in the

Smoke I puff out

Little do you know

I did it by

 burning my soul

And those Amorous Ashes

Won’t stay inside no more.

 

I want to pour myself

Unto a vessel like you

And hope you make sense of me

And whisper me my truth.

I can’t keep looking

for someone

Who doesn’t exist inside

no more.

 

Far too long

I have been comfortably numb

Make me feel

With your pinprick gaze

Pull by hand

Muscles floating in outer space

Rub my eyes

So I can see through the haze

Define reality

By sealing my lips

Drive me home

From this dauntless daze!

Liquid Heart

 

 ##skylover wordlist - Alchemy , implacable , knight , aqua , mask , aloof , almond , nocturnal , landscape , sting.

 

 

These nocturnal mornings..

A product of virus induced,

Unstable raging routines

Sting me just a bit more when

It dawns upon me that,

 

My knight in shining whatever

Will find it just a bit more impossible

To track me down.

My face covered with equal measures

Aloofness & N97 masks.

 

My implacable heart demands

An alchemy of sorts

Or atleast a reverse osmosis

Of this aquatic almond

In the centre of my chest,

 

To leak the leanings of my liquid heart

Unto the larger landscape

And hope love finds me

Before it is a bit too late.

 

I thank Kerry for her monthly word list. That really inspired me and I ended up incorporating all the words to make one poem. 

Your Love is definitely my drug

My blog has completed 10 years of existence! :) Thanks everyone for the support.  Also what have they done to the blogger dashboard? It absolutely sucks. Sharing a poem which struck me when I was having bath, like Archimedes. A Eureka moment if i may :P 

 

 

 

 

 

Distance has not dissolved my 

Ever Flowing Love for you.

Now that time has evaporated 

that seductive steam! 

(oh! so seductive)

They have now crystallized like meth,

my feelings that had ached my soft core

like a rapturous encore.

And now I snort it out like Coke

Albeit aware that I might run out of stock

And die of shock regarding the loss of spark.

 

Golden Brown

All the gloss , glitter and glue

Cannot photoshop the sheer phobia

Lurking right beneath her skin

Forming a palpable layer,

They attack her

Only when no one is watching.

She seems so bold

But is actually quite brittle

Her quiet melancholy

Muddled by her extensive cacophony.

She is indeed a prisoner of her own device

Trapped in bravado

She just wants to cry.

Yet when her man is watching

She cannot let him see

If the truth is really exposed

Won’t he just flee?

Better to break it off

And be the bitch

Than take it off

And be his bitch.

Of course it is all very problematic

But who are we to judge?

We all mask our frail insecurities

 marinate them with worry &

deep fry it till it becomes golden brown.

The ventriloquist

Blue Moon

There is something about

Star crossed lovers

Rowing silently

Through the turbulent tides of Eternal love

the glowing full moon

their faux compass

You want them to beat the odds

Cross the sea

To the valley beyond and

Have that happily ever after.

So that one day

When the blue moon smiles

And the stars align

I could cross it with someone too.

Others

Living on the mandate of others

Is basically Life imprisonment

Yet we all bear through it

All Smiles through a gritted teeth.

A rite of passage of course

To come unscathed through the other side

Full of sudden wisdom and cryptic cynicism

Silently afraid to cut these choking umbilical chords

Nourishment and community and all

Convincing ourselves this is what it is

To Be Human,

Taking the place of the Others

Who won and lost

Losing our wonder

And wondering what we lost-

The essence of being ourselves

The hyenas feed on our soul

Only when it is exposed

Keep it intact tightly within you

Guard it like a watchdog

Fundamental rights and all.

Worship it like a temple and

Pray you don’t lose yourself

For the call of others

Whatever may be the cost.

Stalagmites

Sharing a poem I handwrote my friends for this friendship day :) sorry for the non posting. Laptop crash and a law career makes writing difficult!

Stalagmites gracing the inner linings of my heart

inner compasses gently swaying me away

from turbulent mirages , of

an insecure voice 

which once belonged to my mind 

Making me believe 

that I can be more 

than my self

by being myself

My saviors in nightgowns

roaming a love lost town

when we have each other

we will always be home 

Mahanati Hangover

There is something about this movie. It has invigorated the romantic in me and stirred me so much that I have no option but pen my thoughts on it. It is not that the film is without flaws – the ‘innocent’ phase of savitri tests our patience , the film maybe guilty of being too in love with its protagonist and background score was sometimes just TOO loud and it ( perhaps understandably) hesitates to go too deep into the character’s psyche or action. However , the film soars above because of only one reason – Keerthy Suresh.

Right before I had the lucky opportunity to watch this movie (twice) , Keerthy Suresh was my least favourite actress. Maybe because she acted in Bhairavaa , Remo and Thodari – the three worst films inflicted on mankind. Maybe because she was more Loosu than ponnu in her loosu ponnu roles. She isn’t typically glamorous or stylish ( not that I particularly care) nor did she show any acting skill which would warrant her inclusion in all the latest films.

Until now.

She begun the movie with the usual bubbly , enthucutlet beats. I resigned myself for a dud. But then Gemini Ganesan A.K.A Dulquer A.K.A ‘Ammadi’ dropping Kadhal Mannan entered and the film sprang to life. We could see why she fell in love , even though there were huge warning signs everywhere. He isn’t a bad dude either. It is just life. Then comes her transition into ‘Mahanati’ / ‘ Nadigaiyar’ Thilagam’ . Although I haven’t watched any of the movies which she acted out in black and white I could see the greatness. I could see the Savitri in Keerthy. Ganga became Chandramukhi. There was something awesome about her walking elegantly to the Mahanati BGM. Like Rajini walking.

Then her heartbreak and downfall. Damn Keerthy is good. I’m assuming she used prosthetics for the heavy portions and she emoted so well. Maybe I am praising too much. But she was worth it.

Also , all this throws light on the fact that the tamil and telugu industry really need to pump out more scripts for their heroines. They used to in the 50’s, why can’t they now? When everything is apparently more advanced.

The sets and art design made me nostalgic for a time I know nothing about. Madras with trams and taxis looked so good, I wish there were more period movies made. They have a charm which we somehow are not able to capture in our ‘now’ movies.

The songs are so good. ‘Mouna Mazhayile’ is all shades of romantic and mesmerizing. Mahanati BGM is so regal and ‘ Irudiyil enna Minjum’ is just haunting…. The direction , shots were really beautiful. Telugu Cinema with Bahubali , Arjun Reddy and Mahanati now is showing how to be grand and good at the same time.

Little Maryam

Indian fiction seems to be in two ends of a spectrum – One covered by the fancy Salman Rushdies and Vikram Seths of the world who weave magical and complex tales encompassing an astounding breadth of narratives and on the other end we have our humble Chetan Bhagats who write simple stories for the ‘average Indian’. This is actually true for all literary worlds. There is a tendency to look down upon these simple tales , more so if they are ‘love stories’. Given India’s crowded average love stories , I wouldn’t even grudge the critics so harshly.

‘Little Maryam’ on first glance might come off as yet another love story. And believe it or not it is exactly that - but with a small difference. It is good!  Like my favourite character McSteamy aka Mark Sloan says to Mcdreamy in Grey's Anatomy  “Cliches became clichés for a reason. Because they worked. It is great isn’t it”

McSteamy Approves (y)

Simple stories written well which make you feel things are the best!

 Revealing anything about this book might come off as a spoiler. The premise is a rooted little love story between Saadiq Haider and a girl called Maryam , the twists of fate which befall them earlier and later. The official tag line reads - A second chance romance with a shocking twist. 

 However , if you are an experienced reader you can see these twists come a mile away.. but it still won’t stop you from feeling the very real emotions pouring from it and that is what I absolutely loved about this book. 

I tried narrating this story to a close friend and she just started laughing at how ludicrous it sounded. However , in Hamid Baig’s words it is all too real, intense and believable. The initial portions might seem like a stretch but the care and craft puts in helps the punch land strongly later. Even the word 'little' in 'Little Maryam' has significance,

The book is laser focused on telling the tale of Dr. Haider and Maryam so much so that it glosses over parts like say winning of a nobel prize!At the same time thanks to the well crafted initial portions there is a sense of rootedness permeating through the book (maybe stemming from the Banyan Tree which it so lovingly portrays). The emotions are authentic and feel earned . I went from frowning at it to crying over it much like the person who the story is narrated to over the plane!

And for the all the people who read this review and thought that maybe this is  coming from a typical senti romance loving girl , I swear it is not! I remember crying over only two books before

 1) Paths of Glory by Jeffery Archer and 2) Oath of Vayuputras by Amish Tripathi. 

I just feel that the earnestness of the book has rubbed off on me, to give it such a glowing recommendation. There were a few places where I would have liked a more detailed narration and some words which didn’t feel like it didn’t belong in the sentences but the fact that it made me cry like a baby makes me wanna not care about it. This is great work by a debutante who I hope will only get better from hereon.

Verdict – Give it a shot with an open mind

Stars – 4/5

Alphabet Song

Image from the internet

We’re all at the Anonymous Café

Basking in each other’s misery

Cotton over our bleeding hearts

Defying Death and all her friends

Ever ready to give it another go

Fossiled memories motivating rather than defeating

Grape sized heart can carry

Such humongous weight

Ignominious defeats

Justifying its strength

Kudos to us all for still trying hard.

Lavish meals and meringue pies

Can only take you so far

Novice Romantics chuckle at us silently

Our orchestra of sadness drown them quiet easily.

Be proud of all the battle scars

Queer we are not for choosing this

Rocky path

Songs getting written by of us at this very moment

Taste of victory after testing times is the best after all.

Right? 

So the Toads had an interesting prompt where you take a letter-word and run with it. I ran with the letters from A-T then ignored UVWXYZ because I already made my point. 

Unbroken Again

So post number #175 it is  

Unbroken Again

A cracked glass can’t be stuck again

That grandma of a person croaked.

We are in the age of Fevikwik and ready smiles.

So what if it is a plastered one

For the cameras?

They are better than fake candids atleast

The other day I realized

That my heart  got unbroken

I could feel only the feeling

That I couldn’t feel anything

And a twinge of sadness

 That I’m not a wailing idiot

His star crossed lover.

My smile used to be a band aid over a bullet hole

Now the hole is no more

And my smile is whole again

But then

Why do I still mourn the hole? 

Before~

The comfort of the creamy curd rice

Rolling on the floor , watching TV

Using Laika as my squishy pillow

Sleeping through life

And moving in my own jolly pace

Reminiscing about a happier childhood

With the same bunch of friends ,

Dipping Fries on cheese

Unbothered about kilos and hours

Driving on my scooty ,

Wind washing away my starting jitters ,

Sitting with my special friend on the cool mud

Of  my Bessie beach ,

And trying to tell him that

The Big Things in Life are actually Very Small

The montage that passes through your eyes

Before any nerve wracking moment is

A Random rhapsody of your lived moments ,

So live your life friend

Like the waves before us

Rise and crash and touch some lives ~

Mistakes make great stories

Worry only about being true to your self.

He smiled a quiet smile

Placed his hands behind my head

Leaned forward

And shut my mouth in his style

What was I saying again?

Home

4 walls and a door

Don’t forget the floor

That is the place I live

And not my home

Home is where the heart is

And lives

unequivocally enshrines the self

with a warm sense of belonging

No foreboding or fear

Can reach me here.

I am child once again

In this humble abode.

Raucous waves ~~

Sticky sand which won’t leave my slippers

The fresh smell of salt in the sea 

All welcome me home

How can I resist?

Filter coffee

Happy dog

Loving Grandma

That’s what makes my home

What makes yours?

If you don’t know ,

Go search, seek , build !!

If you do know ,

Visit it more often.

Treasure the warmth it gives you

Even if you live there all the time.

Especially If you live there ‘all’ the time.

(image borrowed , not the one of my dog though :P)

To Srimathi

To sudden spurts of unconditional love which truly does conquer all.

You saw the before and after

Through my thick and thin

Blood

Milk and

Water

You are my little tiny tim 

You excel in liking

Every little thing I do.

But nonchalantly overlooking

The very same things too

Worrying is in your DNA

Coolness is your USP

The best mom ever to me

You will always be. 

associated  with poet's united motif for this midweek - conquest