Showing posts with label kochi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kochi. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Blurry Love

Can’t wipe it clean,
my vision,
to fathom the girth of
the pillars,
the depth in 
those bleary eyes
that watch over me;
I guard ’em too.
But they look distant,
I strain my neck, I can’t see...

The morning mist
smudges my roots
as I fight lethargy,
and a stiff ego,
to look back and capture
the trio shimmer in
the golden yellow
wash of Sodium.
Much before the gold
showered by the sun 
reach a shopaholic town,
it’s Onam.

I leave in haste n waste,
as the blurred 
image of my genes
remind me of karma,
of honesty,
of the simple beauty in love.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Home Free!

He measures it all in miles,
the commutes,
the revolts,
the rebukes;
the mad rush
for affinity,
for love,
for creating music
for his muse,
for her amused lips.

A pilgrim now,
he finds his home tiny,
miles become mere metres,
but their smiles are
beyond ’em metres,
or ’em rules, grammar;
for their joy n spree are free, 
like the waves
on a lake infinite
,

a song in free verse!
Pic by Sreetama Bagchi

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Light-Hearted

The drops make random
mirrors on dark lanes,
reflecting pretty n bare faces
I took detours to meet.
Some from college,
many from that school
locked behind an iron curtain;
deliberate, by the bay very much.

Ageing, ancient lights, 
shivering with the monsoon winds, 
led me through empty paths
long after sun and power grids
ignored this shore for yonder.
Like those prodigal sons,
who fight battles, to find their feet on
shifting dunes and waters.

Some beacons remain,
those old boys selling pot,
kids pimping art and bowls of 
hot soup of marinated fish;
some stale, a few fresh;
guarded by tired men,
who are born naturals
in front of the lens.

So are these Chinese nets
and the yellow fever
across the channel,
the new order, from a newer world;
rude and shouting lights,
louder than the collective groans
of dead sailors and dying evangelist teens
in and around the Dutch Cemetery.

MODERN GHOSTS: Lights from the LNG Terminal at Puthuvypu across
the channel  captured from Fort Kochi Beach
GREEN AT HEART: A restaurant winding up the day's business near the
Park at Fort Kochi


OPEN DINNER: Chariot restaurant at Princess Street

OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLE:
The bunglow of Koder Family, the most
prominent business family in Kochi. It
has now been converted into a heritage
hotel. My grandparents used to work
for the Koders and I have run around
this bunglow, playing and studying
during my school days 

PARK n DINE: The Koder House entrance bang opposite the Park
in Fort Kochi

Bung-love: One just can't help but fall in love with the Koder Bunglow.

OPEN HOUSE: The doors of Koder Bunglow, a welcome sign

RED SIGNAL: The night lights give a reddish hue to the house at the start of
Princess Street, even as the whittish glow from the Delta Study school is
visible in the bottom left corner 

NIGHT WATCHMEN: It was 10 in the night and the duo here had their fish
shack open. Perhaps waiting for some late-night customers preferring fresh
catch for dinner

HANDLE WITH CARE: Some of the evening's catch goes into the freezer

MUTE WITNESS: More snaps from the fish stall

NET PROGRESS: The Chinese fishing nets clicked with lights
from the new Container Terminal at Vallarpadom across the channel as
the backdrop

OLD WORLD, NEW CHARM: Chinese fishing nets revel in the
modern industrial light from the Container Terminal

FUELLING A DESIRE: The petrol bunk at Fort Kochi right next to the channel.
This is where fishing boats as well as vehicles fill fuel here. The channel
and the container terminal is visible in the background. Was tempted
to jump in for a late-night swim. 

STREET FOOD: The 'Thattu Kada' opposite Fort Kochi boat Jetty

LONE RANGER: My brother Leo on his cycle heading home after our
little night photography experiment using his new SLR camera

EYE OF THE TIGER: The resident alpha cat of the fish shacks near
Fort Kochi beach

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Hide n Seek


Hiding between clean,
ironed linen;
I delay the inevitable,
blocking the pouring love from
pals, aunts and the known skies here,
from touching those
few faded yellow pages
of a kindergarten colouring
book I kept safe 
between quantum mechanics notes,
biographies, Playboys and some
paperbacks I’m yet to open...


I fear that bond
and its strength to
seep through the tiny
pores of my now
thickened hide and into my heart,
holding it home, sweet home.
Away from the dust and storms
I seek now... Shalt receive now!

Monday, May 07, 2012

It's High Time!


That green cover was
just perfect, 
for it leaves my mom glad,
her son has a roof.
My shifting, swaying roof
is loyal to me though,
with random leaks,
it lets me revel in the 
blessing from the heavens,
opening me to truths,
the ones I truly belong to,
the ones which cleanse me...

It can keep me in a

happy warp for hours,
watching a ship sail out yonder,
or those two boats which always 
struggle to take school kids to
tuitions and then home.
This, the time when
sunsets never charmed me,
its romance never touched me,
as I was gay with the waves
and the digital snaps of ships
I will go home n copy on paper.

Then again this shower

did make me shiver
n run home for a blanket,
a cup of tea too,
which was always kept warm
for I was loved.
But the days vanish,
into thin air, the western winds blow it,
along with the clouds, to the hills.
Beyond my reach,
yes, I dread the climb and
the heights I will reach.

For I'm a man, destined to fall;

the higher I am, the bloodier my death.
Credit: Wikipedia

Sunday, November 06, 2011

Room for more!


Shipbuilders, ’em southerners
are busy with their hull...
It belongs not to them,
the Iron, nor the hammer
they use to bring percussion
to the fore in an orchestra
conducted by a very tall,
old man in Red tux.

Hey, I too can float,
an airtight skull sets sail;
a few shots down the vein
and I'm on my desk,
making a couple of pages,
before forgetting the stanzas of a 
good dream... I never take notes!
Visions never appear on paper either!

Slow n steady on two wheels
I come back to reality,
watching my beloved's concrete bosom glow,
revelling in the attention from the sun,
the naughty old westerner
trying to woo his favourite gal,
a white-skinned one on stilettos,
to spend the night with him.

He fixes the spotlight on her;
sad, so sad, he is setting,
a temporary death,
or is it just twilight sedation
for doctors to work on him
and he comes out again the morrow,
young and handsome to date her again,
the soap opera continues!
View from my sixth floor room east window at Medical Trust Hospital in Kochi

(Thoughts from my hospital bed in Kochi, on the view from my sixth floor room, my trip under sedation and the setting sun...)