Tangled in Thoughts

So often do I think on the lines of nihilism. I have always been intrigued by the purposelessness and insignificance of human lives. It seems very absurd to me that we as a race set such high store by ourselves by acting like the kings who reign over all living things on earth and yet simultaneously subscribe to the notion of an omnipotent superior being called God who commands ultimate submission from every human (I say human and not 'creature' because, let's face it, no other species is as complex as us to have ever felt the need to create God(s)). The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. We are just a speck of dust in the vastness of the observable universe. And yet, the supposed creator of all takes such interest in just our species? Doesn’t that sound exactly like a kid trying to prove with all his might why his teacher likes him more than others in his class even though he does not possess any remarkable qualities as compared to the others? The

All around me is chaos. Themes of monochrome on my walls Contrast with the vibrant hues from the world beyond the window. Thoughts feel like clear water and a moment later They diffuse into thick grey smoke. Is this what they call chaos? Am I in a world of chaos or am I the chaos? Am I the contradiction or am I just in one? And all of a sudden, I’m in pitch black nothingness. And soon there is nothing I know but my disarrayed, dizzying thoughts. And they dance as if in a trance. How do I slow them? I try hard to control them, channel them, put them back in places. And the more I try, the more they get tangled And I drown in a raging dark sea, no more am I in nothingness.  Slowly I realize, the confusion around me is nothing but A reflection of my thoughts, my mind, of me. And sadly I become conscious of the chaos that is me. I am the chaos I see around me. Sigh.                      Source: Google images. (More of such exciting art at  htt

Born into a web of contradictions and hypocrisy I struggle to fit in but even more to stand out. I am a woman, bold and free Yet longing for liberation from you, your rustic notions and all that lot.  You talk about equality of sexes and yet You use the term ‘weaker sex’ to mention my kind. You speak for hours about feminism but somehow forget It all when the time comes and then cowardly you lurk behind. You urge me to do what I feel like but brusquely You lay out a long list of do’s and don’ts You are incomprehensible and so is your audacity Be free but on terms set by you? Oh no, I won't!  It isn't easy to walk around feeling your stare from behind I could be fifteen or fifty  And you'd still ogle in ways relentless and unkind I long to walk unperturbed for once, don't you see?  You blabber on about modest clothing. You and your lies! I could be wearing a burqa And you’d still strip me naked with your bare eyes Protective

I have so many things to tell you Things I've been meaning to tell  Since I found you and your writings Since we first talked Since the first time you made me laugh Since I first dreamt about you Since such innumerable firsts. Oh but what should I tell you first? There're just too many to even begin Yet I shall keep them to myself Lock them in my heart so deep and safe If you wish, you need only ask And I will say it all All that I need to say but never have.  And till then I thought I'd write lines for you But what should I even write When poets have written it all and more? So you who rules my thoughts You who gifted me all the umpteen firsts, Made me bereft of any last drop of sanity I had And yet knows not of any of that... I have no lines to write for you No beautiful stories to tell No words to rhyme this time I have but one wish  And all I will ever ask from you is this wish Can I have this forever? Just you,

I’ll tell you the story of how my imagination was shot By none but me and why I crafted that disturbing plot. I had to free my imagination when in the clutches of clichés it was caught What else could I do when unruly words too went on their own trot? For long I tried but colourless words were all I ever wrote Words that were always far less too eloquent than what I’d have thought Over the blank page once again I saw them menacingly gloat Before parting with my imagination and leaving it to rot. So I slew it and then the carcass of my imagination, I watched it float On the white expanse like a capsized boat Near to it lay undead yet lifeless like a big blot Of blood, words, nay- remnants of a lost battle I once fought. Trickled from the carcass of my imagination like blood that wouldn’t clot Few absurd words and to bury the carcass, my pen I mournfully sought And a eulogy I searched in the depths of my ink pot Rest in peace, I wrote. The saddest cl

ഒരു സ്വപ്നത്തിനിപ്പുറമെന്നപോൽ ഞാൻ കാത്തിരിക്കുന്നു നീയും  ഞാനും ഒന്നാകുന്ന യാമത്തിനായ് ഒരായുഷ്കാലവും എന്റെ പ്രണയവും നിനക്ക് നൽകാനായ് പക്ഷെയാ യാമം പ്രവചനങ്ങൾക്കതീതമല്ലോ ഞാനിന്നും നിനക്ക് വെറുമൊരജ്ഞാതയും  ... വ്യർഥമെങ്കിലും കാത്തിരിക്കുന്നു അവ്യക്തമായൊരാ  ദിനത്തിനായ്‌ അന്നാൾവരെയോ? കാലം മ്ലാനം കഥ ശൂന്യം.

Time’s ticking for you and me. Human kind as a whole has an inherent tendency to procrastinate. No matter how punctual you say you are, you’re still a procrastinator. Maybe you’re not as horrible a procrastinator as I am. Maybe you don’t on the outside seem like a procrastinator. But nevertheless you are one. A big one. It’s something that has been passed onto us from generations. We are taught to dream but simultaneously we are indoctrinated with the norm of never rebelling against the system or the social code. Be what you want but always conform to what the society expects of you . And what is this society? It’s just a bunch of idiots like us who don’t matter in the least when they’re alone but can combine to form a decisive factor in everyone’s life. Think about it. Why do you go to school or college? To gain education? Oh now now! You go there just so you can have fun with your friends all the while pretending to be doing what society expects from a reasonable person

Today I decided to behold my reflection And so I stood before a mirror There I saw looking back at me in all its perfection Fathomless mediocrity. Oh the horror! Mediocrity is what engulfs me Its eternal presence being felt in my every endeavour. Oh what sadness is this insurmountable mediocrity When my pen weaves words which are only sour. Who am I, I asked the image standing as tall as I ‘One among the scores of insignificant bloggers One among the many unknown, indifferent singers and why! You are just one in a throng of ungraceful dancers.’ Is this humility I feel as I drown devoid of any inspiration? Is this the acceptance of who I really am? Jack of all trades and master of none. O mediocrity! Fallen have I even onto clichés now, damn! Still I look into the mirror and see no ray of light Nothing to look for but the unending cycle of routine For I am always the grey between black and white For I am only the silver sans the sheen. 

I think atleast in my outward expressions of love, I’ve at times been a little partial to my father. But deep down in my heart, I love both my mother and father equally and I love them so much more than I do anyone else in this whole wide world. Yet, as I look back on my days of growing up, I feel I’ve always tried to express my love for my father in ways a bit more obvious. I’ve always wanted to be approved by Achan and approval from him still means to me the greatest thing ever. Whenever Amma asked me not to do certain things, I would reply ‘I’ll get Achan’s permission, ha!’. Maybe it is because I’m a girl that I’ve always felt the incessant need to be pampered more by my father than by my mother. As a little girl, I was identified as the ‘daddy’s kid’ of the family while my brother claimed himself to be the ‘mama’s boy’. The 4 year old me was more than happy with the recognition of being Achan’s favourite. But this doesn’t mean I loved my mother any less than I did my father.

NOTE- I take no pride whatsoever in my religion or its holy books. I am quite ignorant of the nuances of the holy texts of my religion (which, for me, is nothing more than just the one into which I was born). Nor am I well versed in the holy books of any other religion. I am one who maintains distance from any religious debates or discussions. So, if you hate me after reading this, perhaps you need to do a little introspection. I envision a world where we all live peacefully Where I can love you for what you are But the world where we live is bizarre For here I live following what my religion teaches me. And what is it that my religion teaches? ‘Love everyone’ is the cardinal principle Yet when put into practice, it all seems to topple For the easier way is that of religious atrocities and breaches. ‘Love everyone’ is my shibboleth, yet  My brother, I can’t love you or your kin Not because you’re unworthy, not because it’s a sin But because I’m a religious hypocrite.

പോകണമെനിക്ക്  ഒരു സുന്ദരയാത്രയ്ക്ക് ആരും തളക്കാനില്ലാത്തൊരു പരുന്തിനെപ്പോലെ ഇവിടം വിട്ട് ദൂരങ്ങളിലേക്ക് പുതിയ മേച്ചിൽപ്പുറങ്ങളിലേക്ക് കണ്ടെത്തേണ്ടതുണ്ട് ഒരിടം സ്വർഗ്ഗതുല്യമായിരിക്കുന്നൊരിടം മുഷിഞ്ഞ സദാചാരങ്ങളില്ലാത്ത മടുപ്പിക്കുന്ന സമൂഹച്ചങ്ങലകളില്ലാത്തൊരിടം മതവും ജാതിയും മറ്റു വർഗവിഭാഗങ്ങളും ഇല്ലാതാവുന്നൊരിടത്ത് ചെല്ലണം കലാപവിപ്ലവങ്ങൾ പാടെ മറക്കണം അതിനായി പോകണമെനിക്ക് ഒരു യാത്രയ്ക്ക് ഞാനും നീയും അവനും അവളും നമ്മളായി മാറുന്നൊരിടത്തേക്ക് പോകണം നമ്മളെ വ്യത്യസ്തരാക്കും അതിർവരമ്പുകൾ ഭേദിക്കപ്പെടുന്നൊരിടമുണ്ടോ പക്ഷെ? എവിടെയുമാരും ആർക്കും തുല്ല്യനല്ലല്ലോ? വേർതിരിക്കപ്പെടേണ്ട  ജന്മങ്ങളാണു നാം അരികിലാകുമ്പോളും നാം അദൃശ്യമതിലുകൾക്കിരുപുറം പുഞ്ചിരികൾ മറയ്ക്കുന്നതോ  ഉള്ളിലെ കപടതയും. പൊട്ടിച്ചെറിയണമെനിക്കിതെല്ലാം, പക്ഷേ ഈ തീരാച്ചങ്ങലയിലെ ഒരു കുഞ്ഞുകണ്ണിയല്ലേ  ഞാനും ? എന്റെ സുന്ദരയാത്ര ഒരു സ്വപ്നമായി നില്ക്കും ഞാനെന്ന കണ്ണി തുരുമ്പിച്ചില്ലാതാവും  നാൾ വരെ.  

I'm young, crazy and have amazing friends. And I couldn’t be more thankful for everything life has gifted me with. Oh, did I mention the awesomest (I know there’s no such word as awesomest, but I just couldn’t resist. Okay, you know what? If you’re that offended, I’m sorry- the most awesome-) thing? I’m frigging single. So that’s me- young, crazy and single, enjoying my life with my amazing friends. Over the ages, I’ve taught myself to see my bachelorette life as something that I've chosen for myself as opposed to something that is imposed on me. Well, in my case there’s little difference between my own choice and this imposition that I speak of. Why, you ask? Because, the imposition is from my own side and not from anybody else’s. It’s more of a self written code, if I may say so. No boyfriends, no troubles. Of course, I don’t get the awesome stuff that girls with boyfriends have. I have to pay for my movies, bus and taxi rides, lunch and dinner and on goes the endless

Lost on this lonely path I look ahead to see nothingness Immured am I by the unceasing wrath Of bygone times and their mores. Once you came into my life Painting it with hues of happiness But now how am I to survive? Sans you my love, all I am is hapless. As violence that I’ve always abhorred Spurned all my dreams in one terrifying moment What could I have gifted you but all the tears I shed? For you lay cold beneath a blanket of blood marking an end. Wasn’t I always a mere spectator of the games life played? And so before my eyes changed everything Once a vibrantly coloured canvas, it is now drained All that I have are faded colours and a ponderous ring. What does the unending expanse of white symbolise? Wanness, worry or woe? Or perhaps it is the colour of hope and poise. For it is white with no tinge of blue. With five metres of pure white draped A forlorn and dispassionate lady I see in the mirror. With no traces of saffron on