[Poem] March Blues

Sometimes, life is a written speech
In between commas and full-stops, expectantly,
it seeks the approval of its silent audience

Sometimes, life goes extempore
Even its ever-vigilant audience fails
to read between its cunning ellipses



Vijay © 28th March, 2007

[Transcreation] Form

When I stew in my heat
and outflow my brim
to drip onto myself
and burn within
Pour myself down
to douse the flames
do I still need to confirm
that the hearth is mine?



A poem in Malayalam by T.P. Vinod
Transcreation by Vijay � 25th March, 2007

Come, fly with me

The Delhi Nukkad meet

Nukkad is an online community on the Ryze Business Network, which I co-moderate alongwith six other friends. In a short span of two months, the community has pleasently grown to a level where members are eager and look forward to off-line meet ups. Recently, on 10th March, 2007, a Nukkad meet was organised at Delhi, which had 25 Nukkadites in attendance. Songs, shaayari, jokes and personal banter took an evening to the wee hours of morning till we realised it was time to go home. Here is a video presentation of some moments.

[Villanelle] The game of dice - On Women's day

Let us again play that game of dice
wager on board our hard-earned pride
Ignore, turn deaf ears, if history cries

Pitted against you is your own device,
Conquering your might in a single stride
Let us again play that game of dice

Be on guard this time, think twice
I am no more that five-man’s bride
Ignore, turn deaf ear, if history cries

From when you unclothed me in a trice
I have swum across many a tide
Let us again play that game of dice

You made history and etched it nice
Achievements of mine, you brushed aside
Ignore, turn deaf ear, if history cries

Innocence is dead, rue not its demise
If you lose, try and find a place to hide
Let us again play that game of dice
Ignore, turn deaf ear, if history cries


Vijay © 8th March, 2007

[English Ghazal] I may

I am but a human, whine I may
Though the pains and hurt are mine, I may

When all dread before a budge for sure
Get up and walk across the line, I may

Usually, I refrain from reacting to fools
But dare you to call me a swine, I may

Abuse, I can, with my words, you know
Though my words twist and refine, I may

Don't need to prove that my soil I love
If you question my spirit and spine, I may

Should I stop writing any more ghazals?
If that's what you want, its fine, I may

Don't say "Mahfuuz" doesn't change his mind
Give me good company, some caviar and wine, I may

[Transcreation] Punctuations

Forced to turn even

the slightest of incoherent grunts

into questions,

perhaps annoyed,

the question mark

stoops and hangs its head



In the heat of

the surprises

that couldn’t be penned,

in the anger

at not being able to read them all,

the exclamation mark

melts in agony



Like a child in the womb

unfazed,

it can recline

and meditate

That explains the sanity

of a semi-colon

even as words crowd around



When they are herded together,

those heavy ones from the past,

to keep them in line,

the quotation signs

could perhaps be

silently praying to the present tense




Perhaps in its inability to tell anyone

that the end is merely a myth,

lies the sorrow of a gloomy full-stop

and the reason

for its shrunken existence





A poem in Malayalam by T.P. Vinod
Transcreation by Vijay © 1st March, 2007