My own country too!!

Country roads..

& they All-Fall-Down.. - Adirapalli














Mist & tea -
at Munnar..















Where once lay a bridge for the fishermen,Tsunami left all but this piece of art - Kochi Beach













Edakallu guddada mele - Wayanad

Life-at its Best..!

Clouds come floating into my life,
no longer to carry rain or usher storm,
but to add color to my sunset sky!

Why i don't blog often..(?)

Hmmm..it's been months since i blogged..

Not that i'm all lazy or something..i sometimes just don't do it even if not doing it kills me..[yeah,yeah! Salinger's ishtyle]

I've too much to say..but none to listen perhaps..
Whatever..That remains a question to me as well..

When Things Even Lacked Names...

..wonder how things were when the mankind had just started evolving..when things were,by nature,wild....when the earth was still fresh and raw....

...when the winds had all the freedom to move....when the clouds rained down ,so pure..and the sun shone,and its rays did not burn....

..when so many things remained to be explored..when people had just discovered the art speaking ..when things were yet to be named..

I wish i was born ages back....when the world was so new that many things even lacked names....

Continuum

Sometimes a piece of sky seems SO own
You wish to give it a name.
It defies all logic , though
Just a plain sense of possession.
You gaze at it for long and wonder why you like it..
just a regular gloomy strip.

Losing it,for the sky, would be like clipping its nails.
But,you keep on telling yourself -
It's this which needs you the most;
and feel like one in charge.

Failure, at once,it strikes.
The strongest possession you hold.
You shake your head in disgust.
That ain't a name,you think
and scan through every image from the sister
who wears a heel to stand as tall as you
to the uncle who finds but fault with everything you do!
Ronnie,Tony,Zubin,
normal,parabola,sine;
and before it turns ugly,
It's all perversion you declare
and point your mind away.

Suddenly you notice
a part of what was yours has merged with what was not.

And then,at length,you feel....
IT'S YOU WHO NEEDS A NAME.
-Samartha Vashishtha.



I really don't know why i chose to write this poem in my very first blog....(i can list out a few 'maybe becauses',but,i don't much like guessing)

It always fascinates me - the element of abstraction the continuum has in it -every time i read it.
Maybe that's why i like it so much..

I keep wishing that i would someday be able to write down anything & everything i feel like..Anytime..But,Writing is tuf..it really is.