Wednesday, January 29, 2014


Winter wails on the mane
of the trees, coiled for comfort.
I forget to breathe as well.
Inhale and exhale is more an exercise
that puffs pride into my lungs.

I dive under the weight of the wool

scraped from sheep, myself
not bearing the agony of
being stripped.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

21 st January 2014

While Kumar Vishwas went about reeking of racism as a 2008 video of the poet reveals, Somnath Bharti whose ego was dented by a Batman style raid not yielding the results he yearned for, led to mayhem and chaos on the streets of Delhi. The AAP was on the streets of Delhi since January 20 th asking for the suspension of the police officers who decided to not act on Delhi law minister's tip-off to raid places inhabited by africans especially those from Uganda and Nigeria. According to Bharti, he had recieved complaints from local residents who charged them with drug dealing and prostitution.
As per the law, no matter what the crime is a woman cannot be arrested or taken for questioning between 6pm to 6am. And Mr. Bharti dared to pass that barricade of the law by forcing the police to conduct raids at 9pm and that without a warrant. Two african women returning from a party were meanwhile manhandled by the police and urine and blood tests were forcefully conducted for them. So were their private parts checked without their consent. This unruly roguery happened because of a lying Yogendra Yadav another AAP anarchist, who claimed to have got a letter from Ugandan officials warning them of illegal activities in areas like Malviya Nagar. The official spokesperson of the ministry of external affairs and the foreign minister were lamenting about why were Mr.Kejriwal and his ministers trying to ruin India's relations with a peaceful country.

Monday, January 20, 2014

Mr Vishwas, A Nurse is a medical professional, not an eye candy for a male patient

A 2008 video of Kumar Vishwas passing sexist racist sentiments against the malayalis is in the roll on social networking sites nowadays.After these people have come into power, with of course the Congress giving them the other crutch to stand on, a revolution was being anticipated by them. Winds of change that would take the powerful privileged for a ride, accounting for responsible governance.

But on and off as reports pour in, I realize that they are another bunch of hypocritical fools with no knowledge of running a government. Most of their populist schemes are only fizzing out and it maybe not be long before the castle of dreams might be up in air.

One can't seem to blow a kiss for them when one hears of their late night raids and molestation accusations. For Somnath Bharti, I have another blog post to do. This one goes for their spokesperson, poet Kumar Vishwas. 

A five year old video shows him passing sexist racist comments against malayali nurses which has sparked a heated debate. Although this could well be another opportunity of the opposition and the Congress to aim at them to shoot, publicly passing remarks against skin colour and a community can't be taken with a pinch of salt.

He thinks that these women professionals who study hard and toil day and night, must be glamorous attractive women in order to function as nurses.

He said that when a man used to go to the hospital he had to be satisfied with the malayali nurses who attended him, and he was forced to call them sister. For they were dark skinned, as he xenophobic-ally calls them "kali peeli". I never knew skin colour was an important factor in getting a job as a nurse, as Mr. Vishwas foolishly puts it. Further more, he says that this maybe the reason that most malayali nurses do not have a profile picture on their facebook account. In comparison fair skinned nurses from North India looked beautiful and do not need to be addressed as 'sisters'. Furthermore he said such fair skinned nurses sent his heart racing.

For your kind information, Mr. Vishwas, a nurse is a medical professional and not an eye candy for a male patient. She labours for four years and dedicates her life to serving patients afflicted by ailments. And a malayali is also an Indian, whether dark skinned or fair skinned. 

Please cure your sexist and racist diseases before laying tall claims of bringing a revolution in India, of which even malayalis are a part and parcel.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

16th January 2014

Today was a memorable day. I happened to go hopping around the malls with Rueben an old friend who would tie the knot soon. I remember the times when I used to be a companion on the wedding shopping trips of women friends about to get hitched. Although most of those used to bore me out as shopping for other women never scored a point with me. Maybe that meant the venting of jealousy for not being able to wear that kind of shimmery and stylish apparel or it maybe it was the expression of boredom arising out of wearing and shopping for everything feminine.
This time around it was a different story. Rueben, Judith's brother Judith is my friend from the church wanted me to do the honours of selecting his wedding suit. He is slated to go shopping with his family once he decides about what he wanted to buy. And I was the person who had to help him in making a decision as he wanted to wear the same color as his bride and he was in need of a second opinion. Before this I had been an accomplice with Judith to her wedding shopping. The idea of wearing clothes of the same color went well with her and the sister too smitten by the thought decided to also take me along. And I thought I will have a disinterested and bored guy hopping around with me and Judith all through the evening while I will be struggling to pick the best of tapestry for his big day. Contrary to my perceptions, this guy was a black sheep from the men folk. Or have we really jumped the gun and stereotyped men as bad shoppers? The manner in which he squiggled through the hangers and stacks of clothing made me wonder as to whether, did he really need my help to dress up for the D day. Many of the times his queries were directed at matching the cuts and colors of his clothes with that of his bride's. Perhaps, that was why I was asked to be a convoy on this shopping trip of his.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

15th January 2014

It's back to square one, the climate in Delhi. The sun was playing hide and seek and we were sitting ducks to the winds imported from Siberia. The winter is playing her dirty tricks on us again.
For most part of the day I looked for jobs in research writing and editing in and around Bangalore and Mumbai. I do have a job in hand but the thought of moving to Chennai isn't an appealing invite. Yes the city will surely roll out a welcome mat for me, but due to my illiteracy of the Amma's language my days in the city would be testing times. Meanwhile the HR manager at Springer has sent me an e-book on basic tamil which seems to be a tough nut to crack. Bangalore and especially Mumbai would give me the edge over Chennai but for now both cities are only on my wishlist and not hit list. And by hit list I meant hitting on their streets.
In the evening we had cold conversations about families falling apart after which I made gajar ka halwa. Gajar ka halwa is few of the desserts that I can dish out.
After dinner I sat back to read but my mood gave up on me. The other thing that holds my interest nowadays is the news. And oh yes, in the next few days a surprise will take the nation by storm. Dad heard the rumors in the parliament and we have since been playing chinese whispers about it at home.
While fidgeting with the remote a malayalam movie caught my attention. It had veterans like Tilakan and Balachandra Menon in the lead with KPSE Lalita playing a dumb housewife and mother of four.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Playing the Bridesmaid for the Fourth time in my Life

Today was the fourth time I decided to play the bridesmaid, to Priya's friend. I try and shrug such opportunities because it leaves me nostalgic and makes me wallow in self pity. To be on the wrong side of twenties and not having a relationship for keeps isn't still acceptable in East Asian societies like India. Sometimes that quivering question about your marriage hits like a tight slap. But even then what is expected of you is a teethy smile and an apt answer that must please the 'curious cat' meowing at you.
These are questions that give me cold feet and I try not to come face to face with such people.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

The Old Gatekeeper

The latitude and longitude of the bamboo
he carries is his twin
on his sojourns uninvited and unintended
from the giant green gate
to another metal head
a black bulwark.

His days are distasted by the sounds of his snores
sometimes seen in a discourse of doings
like cremating a pyre of wood
to warm his bones
performing “Surya Namaskar”
on a morning that promises him nothing
puffing his bidi roll
with smoggy susurration


They stand by my window

when a fish is fried

or marinated with minnows

slithering in onion orbs smothered,

the three blades of exhaust fan

vacillate to fill barren beads of oxygen

with their favourite fragrance

they climb onto the broken furniture

Friday, January 3, 2014

Lost in Translation

And I remember
how we talked even in telepathy,
styled our synonymous silence
and wore each other's secrets
like the crucified Christ
hanging on a rosary
escorting us from evil,

She can't explain me her
vitrified vocabulary in
rajma, rotis, rice and university
or when I beg in disagreement
over another escalated effort
at making me
a Husband welfare organization
rearing to be a Momma Welfare roll.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

1 st January 2014

It is a superstitious belief that whatever we do on the first day of the year is how the year would unfold for us. I began the year scrawling aimlessly on the blogger android application, to check the credulity of this superstition. The year that went by bled sorrow from its wounds. My relationship with many people I madly love changed like the seasons. Some moments of the last year were like a punch on the face or that kick in the gut that aimed at melting my emotional endurance. That way 2013 was every bit an year that glorified the notions associated with it.  This could be disregarded as a post glorifying superstitious beliefs or could move the needle to make you a believer.
The call is yours.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014


As the midnight oil burns
my eyes become the torchbearers
when I brush the cobwebs
in the crooked corners
of a room
that once sieved through
conversations confabulate
in baby names and grocery lists.

30 th December 2013

Me and mom went shopping this evening. Perhaps it was the coldest of days this winter. The winds were blowing at the speed of 1000 kms/sec lashing against us like the whips of a tormentor. We weren't very keen to chill our bones in a winter that had arrived early if not for mom's last minute winter shopping plans.She wasn't willing to wallow in the glitz and glamour of the mall culture but this time around I made sure I pulled her to the mall to shop in style. This is a bi-annual ritual, a shopping trip to one of those malls.