August 6, 2017 § 1 Comment
When it rains in Madras, it could very well be a place you have fantasised. Forget the potholes and the inevitable inundation for a moment, and just enjoy the magic of an afternoon transformed into an overcast evening, fit to go with the three o’clock steaming coffee and hot onion pakodas or molaga bajjis.
Growing up, I always found it hard to relate to the dullness and dreariness English writers associated with rain and overcast conditions. I remember a July a decade or decade and a half ago when it poured after a spell of drought. Schools postponed their sports days and daily march-past drills as heavy clouds finally stormed the city. I lay on the couch and watched English bowlers swing the ball under sunny conditions on the television while munching on hot pakodas. The commentators were over-joyed at bright sunshine, which they seemed certain makes a good day- not to a Madras boy though, especially one who has run from third-man to third-man under a mid-May noon sun.
It doesn’t rain often in Madras. Every time the umbrella was brought out, my thatha would recount how everyone in Trivandum used to hang one on to the back of their shirts while walking. A much-green me would dream of distant places where the monsoon was a thundering beast at the sight of which the trees shuddered, and the rivers ran.
If you have lived in Madras, you will know of those evenings when a bunch of clouds threatened to wash away the city, but all they actually did was shed a half-reluctant tear at the sight of kodangal lining-up in front of hand-pumps, as if we deserved no sympathy.
It rains sometimes in May, a light evening reprieve during the scorching Agni-nakshatram days. It rains on a couple of June days, which year-by-year seem hotter than the one before, and then there are a few temperamental showers in July- South-West monsoon mostly avoids us, but every now and then a bit of her flaying skirt brushes the ever-growing fingertips of the city. The real rain comes after the second summer in October, as the winds change, and the North-East monsoon huffs and puffs, and roars into town.
The veppam reduces, and the air-conditioners can finally be switched off as T.Nagar lights up for the festival season- one traffic jam at a time. The season also brings cyclones and kinder versions of it. The ever-enterprising crows and the rowdy parrots shut up for a while and the nagaram stands eerily still as the storms march through and the winds trumpet as if royalties still ruled here.
A couple of Decembers ago, Madras faced the worst rains it had seen for a century or so. The city was turned into islands, as the three rivers which are usually dry or filled with sewage, roared with such might that a medieval saint-poet would have been inspired to praise them with a couplet or two. As the streets lay dark and torn with festering scars, an awe swept us all- we were grains of sand on the Marina, waiting for the day a big wave carried us away.
When it rains in Madras, it could very well be a place you have fantasised. The city’s strides slow down to a hesitant step-by-step prodding, lest you are sucked into an open manhole, the honking not so incessant and there’s an uncertain sigh- the steam out of a pot of perfect tea, whose leaves are from a distant estate with a silent mist hanging over a rippling stream with grassy shores.
My Madras is a bunch of names who criss-cross each other as streets. The city always has felt old to me, holding out with its own, all the while borrowing from those who came to call it their home. And on a day when the sun can’t be seen and a drizzle to fore, there’s a melancholy which lingers on- of grandfather’s tales and time forlorn.
November 9, 2009 § 20 Comments
Its been raining Chennai for the past few days. So no classes blah blah. Of course none of the national NEWS channels would have told you that many have died and many more misplaced and that schools and colleges have been closed etc(that doesn’t stop a few colleges and schools from working). Wrote a poem as well(in my poetry blog).
More about the second photo later.
I do wonder why rains in Chennai/TN don’t make it to the NEWS. Someone gets crushed by a bus in Delhi and the media is all over the place, someone sneezes in Mumbai and its hot NEWS. I am just curious that is all. After all people with better discretion run those things, the fourth estate etc etc.
We have had a couple of political fiascos going on as well. MNS, breaking microphones and well even trying to assault another leader in the Maharashtra assembly. Cool. We can forget about peace talks and Gandhigiri with such people around. No wonder others think they can lay claim to pieces of our land.
And of course one poor politician getting caught at it. I am a CA student and well the IT act(well a part of it, for my level) is there in the syllabus and trust me, it is the most complicated thing I have never read/tried to read. As I commented – why don’t we let the IT department go after terrorists? (as per the act, illegal income is also taxable(correct me wise ones). But we all do know, the reality, if not the truth. Come on , where is 1.5 crores and over 2000 crores?
Farmville- well am jobless enough to afford getting caught up in something for a while. So yes, apart from the NEWS channels, this has kept me going(and tweeting and blogging as well). I get detoxed pretty fast, so am not worried about getting addicted etc(though it did feature in my dream yesterday night, does that count?) .
Anyway its been 20 years since the Berlin wall fell. It showed that people can rise together and get what they want. We can learn a lot from history, but ironically the only people who learn it(you and me) don’t care about it(the least popular subject in schools I think).
Once upon a time, I used to dream of making a world a better place etc, but when everyone hung up on making things bad, you can’t really stop anyone. So anyway, the present gen. will long be gone, it won’t be gen. X or Y it will be another one, but surely a human one(hopefully nature doesn’t watch movies/listen to humans-2012?).
What most of don’t realize is that, it is not the planet which needs saving, it is our race. This rock has been here for aeons, what makes you think, a bunch of petty creatures can destroy it? Human vanity, nothing else. And remember we are part of nature as well. Intelligence does weird things to you, like making you think you have too heavy head. Just use it, stop trying to praise it too much. *and my comp is usually on for about 12 hours a day 😛 *
Lots more to say, but this post is just a random one, so let me end by remind you of the Great Super Heroes Challenge, just scroll down, you will find it.
November 26, 2008 § 3 Comments
A pleasurable moment.
As the winds swayed the trees
longer and longer, as the roots
strained,the clouds circled
and smeared into a blinding
rage of continuous cold rain.
From all directions
they culred and merged,
uniting and parting,
with feathery fierce
and lovable verse-
unification and ramification
of one in meloncany depression.
Water hallows life
and the raw substance
of purity, pertains
the presence within
to wonder fill the
in the superiority
of an ancient cycle,
one still so tenacious
and routine adhering,
as if it was its prayer
to expose the mindlessness
of humans and their
predicament and folly
in their creation.
At the top of the world,
at the vertex of a triangle
at the peak of a mountain,
within lies a joy
of profound silence,
lest the evil smile
of destruction ever bear
not time matter,
as the rain incessant
ponders the earth
forever gullible ,
by human imagination.
And on that ledge
open and exposed,
if one were to stand,
between earth and humans
can be felt,
where man can let the minds
flow through and listen
to the tunes of natures
way of beginning a new
chain of causing culvert
beating down of the vary
and fueling the life of
the within mighty.
Yet all we see is
a blanket of destruction,
which moves in from
the high seas
and rides on winds,
bound in one horizontal
seem to be forces of mayhem,
the death God’s coveted
tool of justice.But
the only justice we forget
is poetic and that shall
preserve the truth
as much as the clouds their
as the drizzle breezes
on to the face and we
rush for cover
from the torrent that
For such is the nature-
for the sun might be hid
and earth might face a gloomy fit,
yet the gray darkness
is a reminder that none
is superior than the whole,
that the instrument’s
sound can be played,
only if the artist is so made
and the climate ready to hear
the beauty of the untold,
yet known,repeated in
just another way.
from a guarded place,
in between a populous race,
the rain still never fails to amaze.
Even as i face none of the worse
implications of the storm
which by some grace got made,
I can never but be at ease
that such forces exist,
which makes it worth being it.
Never can a joy be higher
than when in oneness with
something greater,yet such claims
are just sinister-for nothing
can be felt which isn’t.
The light shines the brightest
October 23, 2008 § 9 Comments
At the top stood peace,
between vapours and trees.
The watery spirits moved about
and were ready for a fresh bout.
And those of man’s creation,
waited to see nature’s manifestation.
The winds blew back to the equator
and with it brought clouds filled with vapour.
The North-East monsoon was at play,
and nothing can keep them at bay.
A grandeur ,a synthesis of forces,
balanced and in perfect poses,
came down to earth,
back towards the hearth,
back to the eternal solution,
the mighty ocean.
Yet above remains a sense of peace,
one which nothing can teach,
for abstract it is,
just like the vapours.Yet it takes
a form,like the clouds,
free and flowing,
with the winds of creation’s being.
The harsh tunes of man’s action,
of wasteful chatter and bicker,
can only be minor disturbance,
that can never take away the tune
of the ever green crashing
of droplets upon the ground
and solid homes and the swaying of
trees,whose inertial test it is.
The sun a lonely stranger-
behind masses he stands,
by lazies faire,he is now free,
from verbal vows against his
incessant heat.Yet it is by his decree,
that that the winds do blow
and by his will that trees grow.
And by all the wills of nature sundry,
man steps foot,on the planet,
where once ferocious creatures roamed.
And there in the midst of such,
a few nitwits in gray thoughts move,
And trying to docile everything that is true-
by nothing but their targets mind,
which produced everything so refined.
And yet the system of water is such,
that whatever maybe the ruthless
notion of stray physical might of man,
it shall flow on,for the ocean,
is shore less,what we see being
a part of the mighty universe.
And such and such a virtue,
it has,that,the tune shall flow
from every pore and it shall pour,
forever,on the shores where sediments
of countless waves crash,
since the beginning of time.
And the soul of the drops
shall give life to the seed,
like a fire,giving life to a twig.
And from that life,
many more shall spark,
which oh!will lead to more sounds
and enrich the symphony,
where every note,shall cause,
the other and every sound
shall complete the other.
And then life shall out wit
those scared creatures
and in such a world shall
there be more rains,
which will fill the purse
of life,with the fusion
of sounds,from which shall
emerge more lovelier a song,
that at last we know,there we belong.
And at there is the peace,
which no one can preach
nor can anyone breach.
And the artists shall paint
the perfect picture,where
the tree sways and the water
moves,as true as life can be.
The soul dance,shall be expressed
and no more will life be repressed
for such is the joy of music
and such is the power of rain
that descends from the heaven
which is in truth-nature driven.
And so,and so,the chords are struck
and quirk of each and each drop show.
And in the order of divine connotation,
there we see the nature’s manifestation.
And as the clouds go by,
and in months time they shall come again,
filled with treasures of oceans
far and lands unknown and unseen.
And back and forth the bow shall
move and the fingers shall grip,
those which need to be fulfilled.
And want is such that,the heat
it endures shall always be rewarded
and depression shall end in elevation
welcoming the rich clouds of gifts.
And with them our endured wisdom
shall guide us,where our prayer
of thoughts shall materialize
and grow into trees on which
shall grow not just fruits but
jewels to placed on our crown.
Forever it shall rain,
forever the song shall rein.
Forever water shall remove the stain
and forever the sun shall rise
and we shall forget vice.
Forever the bow will move,
and music it is through and through.
At the top shall stand peace,
waiting for you to breach
the bubble and see the eternal.
the light shines the brightest