Four  Poems of mine were Published for the First time, in the issue of YOUTH TIMES Weekly, 17-24 November, 1977. They were was selected by  well known Writer and Poet KAMALA DAS  ( Madhavi Kutty for Malayalees and later on known as Kamala Suraiya ) who was the Poetry editor at that time !

Kamala Das

Kamala Das

Midday Take-off

In the blazing sun I walk blind
My immobile hands follow behind
Time worn planks in the stairs of destiny
Utter a long drawn out cry.

Under a shade less tree, with the ghosts of tomorrow
I await an encounter with fate.
Absolute silence seeps in to the void
Among the transparent shadows of life
Stretching seconds into years and then to ages.
This maddening stillness, this unending agony
Fills me with the suffocating terror of the unseen.
How I wish,
I could just take-off and just vanish
I feel the ground
Suddenly s-l-i-p

Boredom weeps alone

In moments of silence
Words refuse to appear
Defying the laws of language.
Back-fired thoughts shock frozen
Stand as
Dumb T.V. towers in the desert.
Disrupted communication
Speaks in sign language
To those blind eyes staring at infinity.

Rider less horses trample lawns
Breaking the stillness
Corks pop out, glasses tinkle,
Displayed flesh in streets of desire
Stink with memories of lost innocence.

Morning dawns smelling of stale kisses,
Hangovers from sleepless nights.
Nauseating mists of imported love
Blind the senses.

Under the cold blanket
My hand searches for the missing partner
In the grip of my longing fingers

Sunset Sand Diggers

(Inspired by Kobo Abe’s Women of the Dunes )

Under the undulating dunes
Desires lie buried
My soul sleeps imprisoned
Somewhere in a bottomless pit,
To each his own
He himself being one.

Ours might be billion light-years apart
Or just a sand wall away.
Above in the gray sky
Under the blinding sun
Circles a lone vulture.
I dig my agony to unearth lost ecstasy.
In constant work, do I exist
My universe — this pit.
Destination unknown,
This journey a one-way trip.
Perhaps our tunnels may meet in the sunset
We may then discover
What we have lost
Or what we have not yet.

Of Godmen, Gods And Men

My denial is no conclusive proof of absence
Nor other’s approval the evidence of your existence.
They sing of your manifestations,
Many visitations and revelations
Some claim your partial presence in their form
And perform miracles like magicians,
Only garbs are different
Arenas vary.
If at any one at any time
Could feel your presence, even a trifle
It is just possible that
I too might.
Skeptics like me
Can wait till then
Before we start to believe.




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