Deception

Her moonlit glasses
Hid her bumble eyes
Wandering around to
See the man who fell
For her beguile words
and smile, Her hollow
love had razor's edge
To win disputes with
him, Everytime they
faced fights of egos
She thrived in poems
He wrote about her
He was drunk in his
Innocent love for her
She's just abiding time
Enjoying the glitters of
his company, Until his
purpose in her life ends
He was dreaming about
An impossible life with her
He didn't realise that she is
a mirage that he cannot own
She would fly away like a bird
When she come across another
man, Who is rich and more exciting 

This poem is based on word prompts from #vss365 #crowcalls #vssmagic #ThePush #Wordsofglass #moonmystic and   #FridayPhrases

Image from www.dreamstime.com

An Exodus From Arcot

An exodus that never made any waves 

Under the siege of British colonial army 

Long before the formation of India union

A break away group left the native Arcot

Leaving behind their wealth,and heritage

To avoid life under the captive of enemy

Found refuge in the southern travancore 

Locals ostracized them as the outsiders 

Treating them as unequals in all sectors

They were served tea in coconut shells 

They became a new community with

New narrative and a new resolve to fight

The successors revolted against British 

They chose to seek education for kids 

At the cost of surrendering the identity 

When India became sovereign nation 

They stopped speaking their lingua Tamil

They stopped celebrating their customs 

They became malayalies like the natives

Celebrating the festivals of the Kerala 

They have slowly attained prosperity 

None of them tried to go back to Arcot 

They wonder if locals will welcome them 

More than a century after the exodus 

This poem is about a section of a community that had to relocate from Arcot near Chennai  to travancore/Kerala during British onslaught in 19th century. It changed their lives. They had to rebuild their lives with new realities and identity.  Missionaries gave them education. They chose education over social status. They became a new community with privileges attained for being backward in their new native.

The High School Dictator

This poem is written for a guest post on Jamie Adams's website  https://jamieadstories.blog/  

I wish to extend my heartfelt thanks to Jamie Adams for this opportunity. This is my first guest post ever. Corporal punishments are now banned. This poem is about incidents that happened more than 24 years ago. 

I saw a dream 

I was back in my high school 

Again to learn some discipline 

There were total strangers 

But a man stood out 

He was the dreaded frog-eyed man 

The principal and headmaster 

He had difficult eyesight, 

But he had a good hearing capability

He had strict rules for the school 

The school was silent like a library mostly

Smacking with a stick was legal in 

his era, If you're late, you get 

smacked, We had  fearful days in 

school, Teachers looked for a reason

to expel us from the class, To be 

caught by him during his long walk   

 twice a day, Looking for preys to take to 

the office room, To give warning and smacking 

Students tried to do homework at all costs, 

We tried not to make any nuisance,

Even during class with no tutoring due to fear, 

It's more fearful if he asks to bring our parents, 

He would talk about the performance of 

ward at school, And our parents give him the right

to discipline their wards, He would mercilessly

fail students who he doesn't have faith, In  keeping

the hundred percentage record of the school, 

in the state level exams in the tenth standard, 

Those who survive the cull had extra classes,

And he used to monitor our progress closely, 

We had to get a signature from a parent, 

That we did all the tasks on the checklist daily, 

Without that teacher would make us stand, 

We would hide on the sides of the window,

As he has difficulty seeing around, 

One day he caught me standing during the 

lunch break, I was asked to perform 100 squats 

publicly, With my hands on my ears, The school's 

good reputation was built by him, More than fear,

The urge to get good marks drives students to study

hard, The pride in being part of the glory of the school

help us too, It's funny to think now, he taught us not to

waste food, He used to check our lunch boxes after eating,

He taught us to wear dhoti, By making it a uniform on Fridays,

He was in front to feast us on a special day, The one rupee coin

he gave on Vishu is still special, The school assemblies and his 

address, Remain a distant memory!

I saw my high school principal again in my dream last night. So I felt he is an appropriate topic to write on. I was scared of him and his punishments. He had an aura about him. Image from Adobe Stock. 

Llama

A guy in Dubai drank

Too much liquid of midnight

Celebrating his success in the desert

He wanted to raise a camel as his pet

He  searched for it in online pet stores

He liked the smile of one and bought it

He forgot about it until he got a call

From a delivery company, to receive

The animal he bought from Bolivia

He had no memory, that too from 

Bolivia, He checked his internet history,       

To find the day he shopped online,            

He saw the confirmatory email for                

the shopping, He was amused when             

he saw the llama, Not a camel, it had a            

head like a goat, It was a small animal              

full of fur, it had an infectious smile, 

He found out that it was from the Andes

mountains, He still liked its smile, But 

he wondered how to raise it in the desert! 

He set up a cooler enclave on his farm, 

And he placed an order for a couple more, 

For giving company to his llama!

A poem based on word prompts from #atreyasverse #2WordPrompt Image from Unsplash 

Larkspur Wish'

When the velvet dusk haunts moon,            

I will be waiting for you with            

Larkspur flowers

I want to put them on your pink hair,          

To make you gleam at night with              

shy smile 

I will end my woeful wanderings,

for listening to the soulful music that            

you play

And you will see me dancing wildly to the

music of you, and lose in potion of             

your love

The purpose of my life is to build a new life,

 with you in an estuary of                  

your dreams

 A poem based on word prompts from #atreyasverse #BraveWrite #moonmystic #VIVpoem #vss365 #WIPWordSearch Image from Google 

Temple For You

I want to look for a mount

Like Olympus in the Asgard

Not the haven of the gods

But a kingdom of the demons

To build a big temple for you

In the valley with thick forest

And rocks for an ideal pilgrimage

Columns like in Greek temples

Arches like in the Persepolis

Structure like a mini colosseum

Atop, a pyramid like in Egypt

Minarets around like in Arabia

Flooring with the Italian marbles

Sanctum sanctorum carved in a

Single granite from the Karnataka

I’ll keep a sculptures of your demons

I’ll worship it with my poetic verses

Sprinkling heavenly scents of attar

And bunch of Jasmines that you like

I'll lit the temple with camphor lights

In the midnight I will pour blood on

Deities to quench its insatiable thirst

I’ll offer gifts from the occult priests

Fulfil their wishes with your demonic

Powers that you used to destroy me !

Your greed and arrogance will be the

 Offering for the ooccultist pilgrims

Who have cruel wishes to fulfil at the

Expense of miseries  of their rivals!

 

A poem based on #reevesroses word prompt . Image from MasterFile

An Old Fisherwoman

 A lanky old woman 

With a holy cross attached to her chain

Carried a big Aluminum pot

Full of fish on her head 

She travelled by buses to faraway 

Places from her shore to sell fish 

She walked kilometres every day 

Be it summer, winter or monsoon 

She had a set of houses to give fish 

Yet she would hide some for us 

If she gets special fish on occasions

She would keep the fish at our home and go

Without waiting for payment 

She would say, give it later 

She always gave fish at a fairer price

Her relative used to work with my father

She always had an attachment to our family

She brought us fish for more than a decade

We don't get the fish like she used to bring, now

She shared tales from her life and shore 

How the landscape changed with foreign money

And how the sea tides have changed their lives

She had no kids and her husband was no more

She lived with her sister's kid 

She sold fish until her health deteriorated

She never liked sitting idle at home 

She prayed for us in her church 

Her belief is still strong 

She made wishes for me 

When I had a struggling phase

She used to bring a cake 

and sweet red wine 

During every Christmas 

That's something we miss now

She is into her nineties now

Still talks to Mum once in a while 

A Kerala saree is  waiting to be gifted to her

She is like a relative without blood relation

Some relations are deeper than blood relations 

Women like her are inspiring, who battle life 

On their own, even in their old age 

We still talk about her when we buy special fish

Image from DreamsTime 

My Village From Memories

I grew up on a hill  

With a Church next to my home

There were no roads back then

A path could let only one person walk

Along the steepness of the hill

I dreamed of a road and buses plying 

one day 

The tapioca fields filled the barren land 

Coconut trees filled the other parts 

A narrow river was the lifeline 

of the paddy fields on the plains

There was an unfinished temple

On one shore of the river 

There was a low stone bridge connecting the hills

Often get flooded during the monsoon

People used to catch fish using primitive ways 

Sand miners dived from boats 

 to dig sand from the depths

Leaving many deep patches in the river 

The paddy fields had big frogs and snakes

that was after them

Farmers used bullocks to till the paddy fields

and the mud spliced like art 

Ponds dotted the landscape 

With source nearby 

Small streams took the water towards

the paddy fields 

On holidays we used to sit on the walls

To look at the vehicles and rare buses 

A small forest of rubber trees 

Dotted in some parts

The market was vibrant with local produce

fish and other essentials 

It hosts events at night sometimes 

All major shops and restaurants were

closer to the market 

People kept slices of coconut to dry on the road

The aroma of coconut oil draws 

When you get nearer to the cold pressers 

During summer paddy fields made way for 

beans and vegetables

Some others tried their luck with plantains 

The telephone was rare in those days 

Even telly was there in a few homes

And the neighbours flock to watch 

Until the voltage goes down in the eve

VCRs were hired to play movies 

On the day before weddings 

The stages and shades were set up with

Areca nut poles and coconut leaves 

People were sent to faraway places

To inform the death 

The whole village helped in the mourning 

Older people would relish their paan

Old loudspeakers were tied to the electric poles

and trees during the festivals 

A canal brought water from the Neyyar dam

for the farmers in the hills 

I spent a lot of time playing in that canal 

In front of my home 

And I remember a literacy program 

That helped the elderly people 

To learn to read and write 

And the people used to share the fruits

in their land with the neighbours

And there were drunkards who loved 

drinking nearby the river and the canal slab

 

Image from Unsplash 

An Old Pier

An old concrete pier at Valiyathura

Leans towards the sea 

It has survived the waves for decades

And even the tsunami

It has steps to reach the waters 

It used to welcome boats carrying 

Rice and other cargo 

From the bigger ships anchored

On the deep sea 

It used to be a hub of smuggling too

As it is near the notorious area 

That sell smuggled goods from abroad

The remnants of old rooms still remain

Now the pier is a tourist spot 

Where people come to see the sunset

Feel the breeze from the sea 

And enjoy the beauty of the beach 

There are holes in the platform 

The fishes are visible through them

Crabs cling on to the columns 

Other fishes swim around them 

Anglers here use strings to catch fish

They wait patiently on the edges 

Until the fishes get hooked 

Unseen varieties are caught 

They keep them on the platform

For the visitors to see 

And the visitors' bargain for fish 

The fishermen jump onto the sea 

from the pier like Olympic divers 

When their boats make it to deeper waters 

They swim towards their boats as if in a race

Fisherfolks sell fish at the entrance of the pier

Other dwellers walk through the pier 

To sell snacks and fancy items 

I remember visiting the pier 

As a kid with my father 

I love sitting on the deeper end 

And watch the sunset and the fishing boats

A recent renovation has given the pier 

A fresh lease of life 

Image from www.keralatourism.org

Late Comer

Running briskly

With perspiring senses

Wildly beating heart

Checking the watch every other moment

To see how much time lost already

To calculate possible reaching time

To raise the speed

And to prepare for an abrupt entrance

There is a big price to pay

For getting late

A risk

Unworthy

As you stand to lose out

The savory moments upfront

Amongst the settled audience

Engaged fluidly up to the occasion

Then the door cracks up

Breaking the silence of even the noise

Making heads to turn around for a glimpse

To see the distracting latecomer

With countless eyes sprinkling spotlights

Walking past the aisle

Becomes nervy like on a ramp

Nodding the sorry with the eyes

And the bowing head

Whispering the excuse

From the shell of a sorry figure

Without any idea about the scenario

That persisted there

A messy catch up work remains

To be done, to get on level terms

With all those present there

With short enquiries for briefings

Fighting against the time  

To make up for the lost time

Before gelling into the zone

With the ease in breathe 

Scary, if there is scolding

Embarrassing

Funny, if there is mocking

Light-hearted banter for folks

There is always an awkward moment

Awaiting the late comer

Image from Vectorstock 

Waves Of Depression

I am falling slowly into a dark burrow of                                                                                                      Gem clipped thoughts on this sacred day                                                                                                  When the temple will host devotional aura                                                                                        Mythology, and spiritual kindling tonight                                                                                                    I will not be awake to experience that

I exude confidence and feel magnetic
Towards positive vibes and ultimatums
When I am high on medicines artificially
As if I humbled the valleys of depression
I feel I can face the stresses in an office

I am stumped by the flak of medicines
When I altered my path towards healing
First setback is bitter like radish mouth
A betrayal that hurts the woven dreams
Threatening the very desire to be sane

Emptiness will acquire a grip on the night                                                                                          Voices in my mind will surrender silently
I'll feel helpless, hopeless, and soulless
But I wish for courage twining my mind
To weather the storm down and survive

A poem based on word prompts from #2WordPrompt #vsslocation #vss365 #vssdaily #Better2sday #loveletters #moonmystic #crowcalls #atreyasverse
#BraveWrite. Image from Google. 

Let's Meet At Hill Top

Let us meet at Ponmudi hill top

We can embrace clouds at dawn 

And wander through the meadows 

Whispering the secrets from hearts 

We can observe the hillocks around 

And select the prettiest to set a home 

Let us light the candles at night

On the big rock resting on a stone 

When the breeze is gentle and cold

We can spot all the celestial bodies 

Maneuvering  along the astral plane 

And rewrite the stars with our fantasy

Let us wait for the late night rain 

That will hide the shy moon subtly 

And dance with our sodden bodies 

Brave the cold droplets of desires 

Until we find our way back to cottage

To quench the thirst of our wild souls 

A poem based on word prompts from #vsslocation #loveletters #vsspoem #wordsoupdaily #turningthephrase #vssdaily. Image from Trip Advisor 

I'll Bring You A Song

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we meet again,  On a misty morning in the valley, Where you love to sing with the birds

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we feel again, On a summer day in the beach, Where we met first surfing in the waves wobbling

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we hit again, On a spring eve at the pub, Where we danced in motions like high on cocaine

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we mate again, On a autumn night in the motel, Where we spent our date in a drunken state

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when we play again, On a winter afternoon in the hill, Where we made snow man and woman

I’ll bring you a song, my darling, when you say goodbye, On a rainy night in the highway, Where you  love to drive with the wind 

A poem based on word prompt from #loveletters 

I Want A New Love

I want to nurture a new love;

Tender like a childhood dream.

Encrypted with beauty of souls;

Devoid of earthly expectations.

I want to traverse the seasons,

in her solemn company forever.

Wandering through the miracles,

the earth offers us to experience.

I'll promise to build the world she

dreams to see and live until death.

I'll throw the coin on the fountain,               

to bring good luck for our journey.

Letting go of begrudging heartbreak, 

to provide an innocent feeling of hope.

A poem based on #reevesroses #loveletters #vsscollab #BraveWrite word prompts 

Image by Unsplash 

The Meat Ban

The government banned all meats 

Claiming that it hurts religious 

sentiments 

The band, 'New Age Hippies' sang 

'Nothing left to sacrifice', Let's 

Revolt 

They campaigned in social media 

With the keywords, 'Freedom to

Eat'

Their cult companions gathered in 

Front of parliament to protest

Loudly 

We want our meat and our right back

You're just the Harries' we voted 

Remember 

They started pelting the cheeses at 

Lawmakers who defended the 

Ban

While some of them grilled the meat 

In defiance, despite the threat of

Arrest 

A poem based on word prompts from #HumpDayWrite #turningthephrase #2WordPrompt #Better2sDay

 Image from unsplash 

Caerleon

A poem about one of my favourite place in #Wales.