Solitary writer

If you dont know me,
search for me in this wilderness,
 I am that solitude you will find here,
If you cant then hark that breeze
whispering to your ears
a song or is that a cry
that dissolved into the air
and disappeared years before
may be waiting for you, only for you
but wont listen it unless you
 listen carefully and closely
 because all these while it was here
concealed deep inside waiting
for you to look ,to embrace it and
If you find it here then
hold it close to you
For i am that solitude you will find here

Shackles

 Its baffling that i find myself here. Not even in the wildest of my dreams i thought i would be in such a place. Hands and legs tied and i could barely see whats happening around me, and when i feel thirsty i had to lick the water from the small crack on the ground ,that has been collected when the water flowed in front of me , i didnt ask from where the water came from, nor  did i care where it was going. All i know is I have to survive this. I dont know whats there on the other side ,probably more tests and experiments, but i know with all my heart i dont quit till i am free, i dont give up till all my shackles are broken and i could spread my wings and fly..

A walk to the future

when today changes to tomorrow you hope everything changes and it add a meaning to your existence. A little more love in your life , a little more purpose in your actions, a little more reasons in your tears
  Will it make any difference if i paint a little more black to the night, . I am been suffocated by this meaninglessness around me. how much harder i am going to try will there ever be a difference?. will it make any difference if i add a little more sand grains to the beach? May be if i keep hold of a handful everyday and drop at the same point , probably i could make a mole hill and with time if the wind decides to help me , one day, i dont know for sure, but some day who knows , i will be surprised to see a mountain there.But the key is to take one step at a time, nothing more nothing less. looking at each individual steps,probably they look very meaningless, but together it is something wonderful, its a walk,, A walk to the future

Wings of butterfly

I being the wings of a butterfly

small fragile but still steady to take off

Am afraid of the wind that flutters me

But not the fate that darts me forward..

Paradox

I shall tell a story
a story of a turtle and a rabbit
who decided to run a race
but is this the story you heard before
I reckon not,For at the end
 the rabbit wins this race
So if you ask what is the moral
then i shall say the moral is
Not all stories have a moral
But isn't that a paradox as simple as life.

Suicides in Kerala

Have you ever wondered why in kerala , even after those monumental literacy rate the suicide rate is on the higher side. In the northern states people opt suicide only when their livelihood is deprived , only when there is no means to feed their family. But even towards the last moment, if they feel there is a chance that they could feed their family if they could migrate to the southern states where there is high need for unskilled labourers, then they would probably opt that rather than suicide.
    But its a different story when it comes to kerala, here the youngsters commit suicide because of the psychological impact that the society has on the individuals. The society in kerala always has a way with the budding individuals.From their childhood onwards every kid grows with in a scale of comparison, either with the neighbour , class mate or even with their brother or sister. They grow up with a false urge to be on top of everything, or they fear that they will be branded as useless. Now the beginning is from their class, from the progress reports, later when they grow up it just spreads to everything they come upon. There will always be a fear inside them that people are scrutinizing them . Recently when a college student commited suicide because his parents wont buy him the brand new i-phone, people may think it to be so childish from this youngster but the truth is that the trauma he faced from his childhood , the need to look good before everyone else, and the peer group pressure to be recognized by everyone else have actually killed him. What if he grew up in an ideal society where there is no comparison, or what if he grew in a society where every one minded their own business, then the story of this youngster would be a different one, but today if he has committed suicide in kerala then its not a felo-de-se but this is a homicide committed by the society
          Here people commit suicide not because they dont have enough opportunity to survive, but when they feel they haven't grown up to the expectation of the society

the blue Box

They sold the memories on a street

So i walked those lanes,out ran the needle of times

Just to find myself in a corner

In front of an old shop ,grey and shabby

I didnt know what i was looking for

Still i searched for something

And in that dark corner I did find a thing

A small blue glass box, that sang a song

I havent heard that tune since when?

I remember the melody but not when

So i searched for the owner,Who sold it here?

But nobody knew who it was

But i was lucky to find a log book

but the time has smudged the ink

And the letters were difficult to read

But i did find a name in it, that i should never have forgotten

A friend who taught there are words

words like demise, that a twelve year can never understand

I never wanted to forget her name again

So i bought the blue box from that shop.