Monday, August 1, 2016


Unknown beginning, unknown end,
The path of life looms long and large
Half way our companions join us / half way,
Half way and leave us (half way) too,
We break down, our task fragmented,
Too difficult to accomplish ..

In this drama of life
Who can afford to stumble
(Instead), let the scenes flow in harmony
Celebrate them as a festival.

Though the refrains are trite
Sing them in perfect time and tempo
Though the actor unpaid
and the role unsuitable
impossible it seems to quit
before the curtain falls
O two syllabled life !
Imagination painting your meaning
But in the three worlds,
No man can dictate the script
Past, present, future
All unroll as ordained by God
Though we tire of changing costumes
Though the dresses unfitting
Unseemly it is to discard them dress
As the gift is from god himself
Only when the dance is done
Is it time to empty the stage
To step out of costume (and scene)

In this pointless life
Why such hustle and bustle
Why such venom and hatred
Why such murder and strife
Why ?
(Translated by Indira Punnoose)

The sun of inspiration sets afar
Darkness fills my heart
My flight of fancy
Like birds, fly off
In search of a brilliant future
Not even a feather left behind
But agony blooms into a flower
As scentless as my painful life …!

(Translated by Indira Punnoose)

She smiled at me
She smiled with a new bloom
I watered her
Cared and nurtured her

Who gave her this much fragrance and scent
The flower conjuring up the whole beauty of the Spring
Who gave this much elegance to the petals
Who gave her this much beauty, lustre and grace
What made her the Queen of flowers
The dark red colour or the softness of splendour
Who has blessed her with the first kiss of love,
The sweet kiss of love
Breeze, bees, the sun, moon or the stars ..

Again she turned to me
And smiled ….
Did she ?

I, energized, immersed in household chores

A sudden wind
and the rose down there
Fallen to the ground weeping
my dear beauty queen
might have woven many a dream
in the dawn and dusk, night and day

No, it is not the wind
But the unkind human hand
Am sure it is not fallen
But made to fall, unkindly

Which naughty hand made her fall
My silky red red beauty!

My beauty gasping for breath
Am shocked to see her dead
Not a flower
But only an illusion
Which made me feel my heart for the flower…!

(Translated By Prasanna Kumari)

1 comment :

  1. should be an extension of happiness' the messageof first poem