Monday, 19 October 2015
Sunday, 18 October 2015
Travalogue – III - Between they and us
Its Share Auto time again.
I was on my way to visit one of my relatives
who was ill. With the sweet memories of our childhood together I was reluctant
to the conversations happening in the auto.
The auto jolted to a quick halt
as the sudden gush of wind blew the Dhupatta of the girl seated next to the
window. Thanks to the evening breeze, that helps Chennaites survive despite the
hot climate. Several stories sprung up with that one incident among the on
lookers. The girl felt relieved as she got down at the next stop.
The driver had still more stories
to relate, though, the girl left. After 2 km, a man in his late
50’s got inside the auto. His old leather bag, leather watch, balded head,
sweat on his forehead, big belly and the stitched chappals (yes, the one that
has survived till now starting early 70’s) depicted how hard is life on him.
Still he carried one inevitable modern element, the mobile phone, safely
wrapped in a plastic pouch and kept in his shirt pocket. To him mobile meant
phone and not the smart one perhaps.
It appeared as if he wanted to
start a conversation but none was there to accompany. The blank expression I
carried didn’t help him to proceed one with me. All other in the auto was
already engrossed in their android world.
The man was seated opposite to a
young girl of mid 20’s. With every beep in her mobile she typed with lightning speed a message that could easily be of 5 lines in length. The speed and the
silent conversation with her virtual partner aroused the complete curiosity of
the elderly man.
“Are your fingers not getting
hurt?” – All androidians lifted their faces to find out who is being questioned.
The man looked at the young girl feeling assured of his age. She quickly
dispatched a “No”. Little offended he did continue.
“I’m seeing you typing with only
with one hand and with the head bent. Is it not causing strain on your neck and
finger joints?” Again the girl responded a quick “No”. He continued, “Please do not mistake me. I
have a daughter of your age. She too handles the mobile like you and of course;
she too disposes my questions like you. Are you people not concerned about your
posture or the strain caused to your eyes? I see people nowadays have a lot to
communicate non-verbally and virtually. Sorry if my question has irritated
you”. The girl was least bothered on the lengthy explanation. She gave him a
smile and said “It’s OK” – the longest possible reply she could ever give.
Her short reply offended him more
I thought. He then continued expressing his views on the use of mobile phones
irrespective of who listened to him.
I really felt sorry for him and understood
his inability to cope up with the younger generation. Never would he have
thought that technology will become a compulsory part of day to day life. He
also mentioned how he has become dependent on others for using the mobile phone
for other services.
While he would be the same
person, to be happy and proud when his grand children are at ease with the
latest gadgets, he again is a victim to the ‘generation gap due to technology’.
It looked as if all his other abilities did not matter much to him when
compared to his adaptability to the latest trends. What would have been solely
on his shoulders like ticket booking, grocery shopping, innumerable walking to
the nearby by bank etc are today replaced with a single click in a hand held
device. Also having a daughter in mid
20’s, as a concerned father, he is unsure to determine, that the need for her
to talk and message endlessly, is never at the cost of her safety.
This incident kindled the
following thought in me…
“People like him are like toddlers who walk
for the first time. Toddlers do fall but are helped by their parents to learn
and enjoy what it is to walk. Similarly, today’s younger generation has the
responsibility to make these elderly toddlers comfortable and walk along with
them. That too when India wants to become "Digital India". After all charity begins at home".
Do you agree?
Friday, 16 October 2015
Pattern - A small poem for kids
I kept the flowers of the mountain side
And the fallen feather of the black cuckoo
I called the clouds carrying the rains
And the gentle breeze of the ocean side
I carried the dew of the fresh roses
And the deo of the jasmine petals
I took the blue of the deep sea
And black from the dark night
The flowers and feather sat on the top
The clouds and breeze in the middle
While the dew and deo added frills
The blue and black sat at the bottom
Want to know where they are?
Just read the poem once again....
Tuesday, 1 September 2015
Sunday, 30 August 2015
Shadows
A simple poem on shadows
They appeared silently
Across the walls,On the floor
Through the window panes
Over the skyscrapers
Zooming in and out
Playing hide and seek
.................................
A wonder in reality
Though not real
Staying for a while
Bears no odor
Bears no mass
And leaves no imprint
...................................
A temporary xerox
On the earth - They
Tell me the fact
"You cannot be a copy cat,
To stand out in the crowd"
They appeared silently
Across the walls,On the floor
Through the window panes
Over the skyscrapers
Zooming in and out
Playing hide and seek
.................................
A wonder in reality
Though not real
Staying for a while
Bears no odor
Bears no mass
And leaves no imprint
...................................
A temporary xerox
On the earth - They
Tell me the fact
"You cannot be a copy cat,
To stand out in the crowd"
Tuesday, 18 August 2015
Secrets of Nature
The moon behind the veil of clouds,
Sails through the eternal ocean,
Trees embellished in variety,
Like a mystic's way of life,
The poetic tunes of the rustling leaves,
Talks to the soothing breeze,
One more night of the earth's journey,
Hides and reveals the nature's beauty,
Taking me to a wonderland -
A world full of love and care!!
The above photo was shared by my friend Anitha. Felt like writing this poem on seeing the photo. Thanks and dedicating this poem to her.
Monday, 10 August 2015
Wednesday, 5 August 2015
Word wars of Ego
It spells and yells the inner chaos...
Withering the charm of love and warmth,
Moments of tantrums high and low,
Soil & spoil the cherished bonds,
Spoken words of the gone by days,
And boundless wars of opposed views,
Leave their scars in kith & kin,
Journeying till the graveyard pit
Dispute in rage like the funeral pyre,
Gulps the harmony eternally ever,
The hunt of peace in its ashes...
Rewards agony to the barren hearts
Arms outstretched, knees down,
Call to knock the heavenly doors,
Beckons the alms of celestial grace,
Granting the boon of forgiveness....
And here happens, the death of deaths,
With the exit of Ego, shackled as "I",
The bereaved identities merging into -
An ageless presence of the "Infinite"
Tuesday, 4 August 2015
Sunday, 26 July 2015
Roaming in the dark
A poem on dreams
Behind the fluttering lids
Emerges a huge show
Of Light and Sound.....
Of cries and smiles.....
Pictures of memories
Of unquenched desires.....
Of burried wishes.........
Painted alive
On an infinite canvass
Timeless though
With the wheels of the
Past, Present & Future
Aligned in harmony
Myriad expressions
Of varied emotions
As a bundled package
Unveils me this bigger truth....
"With every passing dawn and dusk
I wake up in the eternal dreams
Of the cosmic creator
With the hope of "Yet another day",
That keeps me going on and on.."
Emerges a huge show
Of Light and Sound.....
Of cries and smiles.....
Pictures of memories
Of unquenched desires.....
Of burried wishes.........
Painted alive
On an infinite canvass
Timeless though
With the wheels of the
Past, Present & Future
Aligned in harmony
Myriad expressions
Of varied emotions
As a bundled package
Unveils me this bigger truth....
"With every passing dawn and dusk
I wake up in the eternal dreams
Of the cosmic creator
With the hope of "Yet another day",
That keeps me going on and on.."
Saturday, 25 July 2015
In search of truth
Happened to attend one of the Isha sessions. Offered
at the holy feet of Sadguru
You teach, you preach,
You do, you act,
You play, you pray,
You liberate, you transform,
…………………………………………….
Who truly are you?!
You are a trainer, you’re a mentor,
You are a leader, you are a donor,
You are a mystic, you are a master,
You are the path, you are the way,
…………………………………………….
Who truly are you?!
Deep in the stillness,
Through the cycles of my breath,
Whispers of your
heavenly hymn*,
Deluging in my soul,
I devoured the divinely gush,
Bearing your note –
“Know me as the energy, pervading the space…….”
“Know me as the essence, pervading the lives….”
“Know me as the eternal, pervading the oneness…”
“Know me as the presence, pervading the senses….”
....
Forever, “Know me as your friend, always inside you…”
Kaakkai Natpu
காக்கை நட்பு...!
காக்கைக்கும்
எனக்கும் என்ன உறவு?
என் தலை அதன்
கழிவை சுமக்கும் வரை?
குரலெடுத்துக்
கறைந்துப்
பெருங்கூட்டம்
சேர்த்து....,
தலைச்சாய்த்து
நான் இட்ட உணவினை,
இனத்தோடு பகிர்ந்து
ஆத்திசூடியில்
புரியாததை
அடுப்பங்கரையில்
புரியவைத்தபோது.........நண்பன்!
புகைப்படமாய்ப்
போன உறவுகளின்
படயல் தினத்தன்று,
அழயா விருந்தாளியாய்
மூதாதையரின்
ஆசீர்வாதம் சுமக்கும் போது அது........ புனிதன்!
என் தோள்தட்டி
விருட்டென்று வானில் பறந்து
ஏதோ என்று
நிமிர்கையில் ......
தலையில் எச்சம் இடும் போது.. அது சனியன்.......?!!
தலையில் எச்சம் இடும் போது.. அது சனியன்.......?!!
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