Life

Tiny plant in pot
Has two new yellow flowers
And dead leaves below.

P.S. First post from Hyderabad! :)

Varali

Dark convoluted locks reaching out like night's fingers. That is how she first appears. Utterly dark, dark like the shadow of a moonless night. Only hair, copious waves of it. They screech against the void like dark nails against a darker board. At the same time, the cascade of locks echoes the melody of a violent sea...noiselessly.

And then, a gentle hum, a drone of the bee - the kind of bee that occupied the imagination of Appar[1] and the Lord Sundareshwarar Himself [2]. A gentle hum, of a bee that is seeking the honey.

And then in a flash, the locks fall back and her face breaks out like a thousand suns. Its the face of a queen, a regal face with a royal nose. Her smile is like twin serpents - coiled in mercy and contempt at the same time. The forehead bears a mark, a dark crimson circle. It’s a spiral, the dark locks, then the refulgent face and then the dark kungumam. She mesmerizes, not by her living features but by the dead signs.

The hum again. Here the bee is a queen drinking from the divine lotus; there a dancer giving life to an imaginary bee with her hands and eyes. The hum dances wildly, one feet grounded in reality, the other raised to illusion. And yet, the grounded feet seem to hover and the raised feet firmly ensconced in the sky.

The lips now come to the center stage. They shine in the hypnotizing red of a bride's hand with too much marudhAni. Look now, they are repulsive, repulsive because of the desire that is worn ostentatiously. Now shut and open your eyes, they draw you, with their regal command to do their bidding.

The bee rises now, the queen bee. The queen of the honey bees, the dark ill-tempered blackbee. Say it now, slowly, roll your tongue over the words - karuvaNdu, ka-ru-vaNdu, an involuntary quiver just as you say vaNdu. That is how the queen rises, from the eyes of the brilliant face with a quiver when you least expect it.

She flutters near the eyelashes, takes a fancy to the dark locks and merges with them before being enticed by the dark lips. There is a quiver again, this time the quiver of desire, a tremble as the blood rushes through her body. In one flutter, before you could blink your eyes, she lands on the lip.

Then there is a gentle sigh, a sigh of relief, of satisfaction. And then, after she has been satiated, she unfurls her thin proboscis to drink the nectar. The queen bee drinking nectar from the lips of the queen... reality filling its void with illusion.

She can be seen here.

(Corrected after Viji's comment)

She can be seen here.

[1] - mAsil vInaiyum mAlai mathiyamum/vIsu thenRalum vInggiLavEnilum/mUsu vaNdaRaip poigaiyum pOnRathE/Isan enththai iNaiyadi nizalE - Appar's thEvAram
[2] - konggu thEr vAzkkai anciRaith thumbi - 1st song in kuRunthogai written by iRaiyanAr or God Himself.

P.S. I couldn't find a picture to go with this post...maybe I can get a sketch done someday, of a dark bee sitting on a darker lip.

Ever seen a prettier sight?

Click here for more

இது ஒரு புது விடியல்!

A tamil BLOG upon Parvati's suggestion! Please update your links and give some publicity! :-)

கல்லொன்று தடுத்து காரிகையின் சாபம் கொன்று
வில்லொன்று ஒடித்து வைதேகி காதல்கரம் வென்று - மீட்டும்
வில்லொன்று ஒடித்து வன்முனிவன் தவம் வென்று - தந்தை
சொல்லொன்று எடுத்து சுடுகொடுங்காடு சென்றானே கதிநமக்குு

ஒன்றே சொல்லாகும் ஓடிவல்லவன் உயிர்குடிக்கும் அம்பும்
ஒன்றே வாசமலர் கொண்ட மார்பில் தான்கொண்ட அன்பும்
ஒன்றே அவன் பெயர் ஒன்றே அது இராம இராம இராம
என்றே சொன்னால் எழுபிறப்பும் அன்றே அற்றதே

Spiral

Gentle night comes in
Songs awaken from my desk
I write some silence

And then...

Morning walks through doors
Shadows sleep shrouded in light
My pen smiles dryly

And then...

Gentle night comes in
Songs awaken from my desk
I write some silence...

Life, Colour and Woman

******************
Dedicated to J.A.B.
******************

Have you noticed how some ideas pop up at you when you least expect them, like a hunter jumping at his game from the bushes? This is one such idea. It jumped at me yesterday night, when I was snuggling in between the sheets reading a Mark Twain story - 'The diary of Adam and Eve'. It just shot at me out of the sheets like a cork out of a pop gun.

This idea gave me the queer suggestion that colour came into existence only after women were created. Maybe the world was colourful before women came in here, but noone could recognize that without a woman. So the world was as good as colourless, the idea suggested. It slowly unfurled itself, the idea, spiralling and turning in my mind's eye before it had me in its thrall completely. Not one objection could I find to the suggestion. No woman, no colour! The world must have not even been black and white, just colourless like water. The idea began to charm me. I trusted it.

How could man have possibly recognized colour ever? How could he even create it? It takes a woman's coyness to paint the evening sky in shades of crimson. It takes her dark tresses to daub the entire world with the shades of night.

How would spring burst forth in all her splendour if woman did not laugh her silvery cascade? How would fall bring out her rich shades if no woman lay curled in crumpled sleep? Where would the raging forest fire dance if not for a woman's passionate kiss?

The deep oceans, don't tell me they with their teasing waves can get their blue hue if no woman lit her eyes with the light of love. Where would the cascade get her silvery sheen if not from a woman's tears? The lush green fields would not shine so if no woman became a mother. The rainbow! We would have no rainbow if a single woman did not clip her nails and cast them away.

The idea went on thus. It twirled and twisted into coils, coils that enchanted the mind into trust. It spoke the truth. Woman brought colour into this world. Just like she brought magic into life.

And life...life has its own colour as well. A colour that is different for each life. A colour that is not seen by eyes. A woman gives life that colour.

The name of my life's colour is that of a new-born calf. A calf that has a new colour everytime it is born.

So what colour has a woman brought into your life?