പതുക്കെയാണ് മരണം ,
ദിവസങ്ങൾക്കൊടുവിൽ ,
പരക്കെയുള്ള നീളൻ പിടച്ചിടലുകൾക്കൊടുവിൽ
പതുക്കെയാണ് മരണം ,
കാത്തിരിപ്പിനൊടുവിൽ
കലർപ്പുള്ള വേനൽ
കാറ്റിനും മഴയ്ക്കുമൊടുവിൽ
പതുക്കെയാണ് മരണം ,
പലർക്കും നിനക്കുമെനിക്കും
നേരറിയാത്ത, നിഴൽ
പറഞ്ഞ കഥയ്ക്കൊടുവിൽ
കഥയ്ക്കുള്ളിൽ കാറ്റും മഴയും കുറച്ചു പിടച്ചിലുകളും മാത്രം
പതുക്കെയല്ലത്..
പ്രാണനറിഞ്ഞത് .
She left a note , a brief one,
Few words hidden in dust and dirt
It must have been in her handbag for years now
Like a souvenir
He knew the lines, once.
He had scribbled them on a birthday
The only day she visits him..
Like an awful ritual
Today she looked different
Her hair unkempt, skin more wrinkled
But, those eyes were not meeting his,
Exactly like a decade ago
“Mother, Forgive me if possible,
Not for the crime I committed
But for the days you visit me”
She walked away slower than ever
And he, now, locked in a piece of paper
Lights, lot of them.. in all colours
I see them getting bigger and brighter
I might be losing my mind
Or is it happening again
I should not write this down , not today
All I need to do is wait
And he will be home anytime soon
Eyes are stuck at the main door
I had asked him to paint it green
With antique carvings all over
Now the door is dusty and less green
Now it’s like me, hazy and more unseen
Door opened, I was half asleep
I saw his tired face and bulky bag
Between murmuring, my lips became wet,
Throat numb,
Body calm..
I slept again .
Another Sky
My eyes opened to an orange screen
Palms felt like holding a pineapple
Head still spinning
Heart hammering
When I was told, I tried to look around
Cold air rushing into my bed
I saw, windows with blue curtains
Flower vases and unknown faces
My hands were taken softly, tear drops and kisses on them
Am I theirs ..?
But only the little piece of sky looked familiar
There is no apology whatsoever
No grief No guilt
No more merrymaking either
They are finally reaching nowhere
They have bodies of assorted memories
And minds dwell right beneath them
They have no mornings to claim
Only themselves to defame
Here I see them looking at the sky
Bereaved, lonely and cold
Here I see them holding hands
Redeemed, wholly and untold
She felt like an old cave
Existed from the beginning
But never seen or visited
Flooded drained and bloodstained
Clothed in a heap of seaweed
Crowned with an insane amount of greed
She looks forward for tired footsteps
And wait for cuckoo’s lamenting anthems
Clouds are turning silent
Just like her crumbled mind
Here comes the refugee
Here she enters the same elegy
പതിയെപ്പാടിയ പാട്ടിൽ നിന്നൊരീണം
പറന്നുവന്നു ചാരെയിരുന്നുവോയിന്നും
പാതിയടഞ്ഞ വാതിലിനപ്പുറം
കനലും കണ്ണുനീരും പടർന്ന വിരലൊന്നു കണ്ടുവോ നീയും
ആർക്കുമറിയാത്ത പേരിലൊന്നിൽ ഞാനൊളിച്ചുകഴിയവേ
കാറ്റും പേമാരിയും പിന്നെ കാലവും താണ്ടി
ഈ തകർന്നഭൂവിൽ,
എത്രദൂരം .. എത്രയാണ്ടുകൾ
നിഴലും നീറ്റലുമായി നമ്മളിനിയീ പിണക്കം പറഞ്ഞുതീർക്കും
പുതിയവൃണങ്ങൾ ചോദിക്കും നീയാരെന്ന് ..
കരിമഷിയപ്പൊഴും തിടുക്കത്തിൽ കഥമെനയും
കറുത്ത പുടവയും
കാതിലോലയും
പിന്നെയീ കാത്തിരിപ്പും ..
ഒക്കെയുമീഞാൻ
ബാക്കി സർവ്വവും നീ .
Tiny scars on body started to fade away
Soon enough to walk through the chilly air
Covered in her father’s old tweed,
She stepped out early in the morning
She could hear trees banter behind
She could see a hundred eyes unkind
Her petite body started shivering
Skin shrieked in pain
But she is no more in tears
Looking away, she waved at fears
When a swollen belly whispered old rhymes,
They diffused melodies like wind chimes
Faded scars were covertly ingrained
She stopped and only listened
I would settle for a sunset
But years from now,
In our favourite colour..
On a less windy day.
You may choose the place
Air and earth should be cold
Just like the way we first met,
Under the moody starless night.
I would settle for a sunset
On the very first day of winter
When our skins turn blue,
And our pale lips tightly glued.
Dark ancient brown tiles
They did great as first few pages
I wrote broken letters, they let me
I screamed in ambiguity, they let me
Here I am, looking for a new page
I see polished walls and glossy floors
They lack grains and greys
They never bleed, they never plead
Brown tiles were you,I suppose
Soaked into mere greasy mud
Blood is again mixing with ink
However this time, wild berries stayed away
