Rocking on the Bay of Bengal
Standing on the sea-board,
I stared out to the bay
and got gripped into the fears
as the frothing waves were lashing against
the boat, arranged for our trip around.
When a strong wave was surging,
our fisher-folk lugged the boat into the sea,
and called us all to jump into it.
The sea was calm to them being tamed,
but the waves were hissing at us.
We were holding tight a rope
that moved the boat straight over the waves.
The engine at the back
gave momentum to the tiny vessel
and succor to our hope of easy sail.
We were heading towards the open sea
sailing across the thoughts of wonder.
Some sea-urchins were hovering around us
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Keeps Affecting me Deep!
When his friends are roaming in shoping malls,
he is in the library, sinking in Shakespeare,
and not noticing me in the opposite seat.
When his friends crave for a glance from me,
he never looks at my face, while walking
on the other side of the road.
While taking food in the dining hall,
I am expecting a flashing gleam from his eyes,
refusing to respond for the calls from the eyes around.
But what nixes him from watching me?
When my friends find difficult to clear my doubts,
he tells aloud the answer to a surprising third person.
Why he tells it not to me, the longing darling?
He seems to ignore me but really not.
His scant attention on me keeps affecting me.
When he gets into the bus before me,
if there is a single vacant seat,
he leaves it to me and goes to the front of the bus.
He offers a fleeting smile when I thank him later.
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Desecration of Idols of the Past Leaders
The idols of the past national leaders
are dumped into the sacks of their castes.
The boys fed with the dirt of castes
go in vans as pilgrims to worship the statues
with oodles of choppers, daggers and rods.
The cops stand in day and night to protect
the people of one caste from the the other.
At times they face the onslaughts of the mob
which takes law unto their hands
even to kill the guardians of law and order
and fill the land with fear and angst.
If they go on pilgrimage with kin and children
to offer their prayers to their idols,
not only on their days of birth and death
but also on all the days of the year
with goats and cocks to slit, cook and eat,
these idols will become gods in future
and all the castes will worship with piety.
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God is there!
A Philistine killed my brother,
a buoyant youth doted upon
by all the castes of my village.
The recreant bullied a woman
who usually sells pickle and drinks
calling my elder, “ Son, my Son! ”
to pump potion to his heart
that cried often, “Mother, Mother! ”,
though she was of that foe’s caste.
When the post of Temple Trustee
passed from him to my brother,
envy supplanted love in him
and he brewed my brother’s death.
The frail woman blared out soon
that her son was poisoned.
Power and pelf kept the villain
out of the bounds of the law.
I hated to visit my village
and reconciled to keeping calm.
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The Ramparts of the Rodents
In a public hospital in Chennai city,
the rats, cats and dogs had a free run
to ICU and the Operation Theatre
with no one to one chase among them
and remained rampant
eating the breads and biscuits
and biting the patients now and then.
The rodents dared bustle
to mushroom and built an empire there
with burrows here and there to hide
and nibbled the kids with uncalled dates.
The dead bodies kept in the mortuary
had their cheeks and feet damaged.
The scientific minds of the people
sensed that some ghouls had bitten them.
The government has flexed its muscles
to hustle the rodent control teams,
to lure the rats for guzzling
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Evil Eyes
oh, trace to the hide out of the evil eyes
and get them back on track to keep our flag flying
Give them free VISAS and seat them in the stadium
and so our bating maestros will hit tons of runs
and look at the sky to thank the Almighty
while the bowlers of the opposite teams
be scratching their heads for their sudden loose balls.
Please post these ominous eyes in the North East.
So the miltants will cross over to Burma
and the fearless rifles of Bangaladesh will be silent.
and our HIV eaten soldiers can nourish for a while.
Settle these danger signals along the Western border,
and the Abdali missiles and the American F16s
will be firing like bogus Sivakasi crackers.
Where are these hawk-eyed evil eyes
which once cursed those in neat clothes,
and cast an evil spell with their glances?
They should come and lay siege to those
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My Heart Stealing Student
“ I will break your limbs
if you dare go out of the school”,
I bellowed and gave the boy in first standard,
a prod with the stick.
The little Saran wasn’t a bit quailed.
Wearing a loose shirt
and moving his tongue from left to right,
“ I stole only a half-pant
and keep it safe in the hostel”,
the prowler said and looked at the ceiling fan.
“ You egg-lifter (from the shop) , I’ll throw you out”
I yelled and lightly slapped at his cheek.
He turned his face to the left.
“What’s your father? ”, when I shouted,
“He is dead”, he said with ease
and turned his back to me.
When his teacher told me
the boy was kidnapped from the hostel
and taught to steal and beg in trains by a blind rogue,
pointing to some cigarette burns on his hands
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Royal Bank of Kisses.
The breeze was kissing almost their bare bodies;
but they had been pressing their mouths for long.
Birds of a feather don't care them in Domana beach.
Kisses are showered within the doors in my country.
While shooting films, they simulate to touch their lips.
But the kids give to their mums and take at any time.
The youths steal flying kisses in open.
'Kiss and tell' interviews are rare to TV channels.
In the realm of porn in the nets,
the worst things are screened for the young and old.
Once I was searching the boys who cut classes often.
I stumbled on them watching live scenes in the cafe.
I learnt from them such goods are sold cheap in the nets.
Websites galore to click and see!
You will be tired of digging the mines of kissing.
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A Hick Picked up by a Pig
He recited the lines of love-scenes of Shakespeare
and she got elated and called him often for chatting.
He sang a heart-moving melody
and she praised him with all the words she knew.
He blabbed all the details of his family
but she was cagey in divulging her secrets.
She looked at his palm as a palmist did
and amazed at his strong, lengthy fingers.
He would primp himself before meeting her,
carrying a bag full of biscuits and fruits
which he didn't buy even for his children.
He wrote sonnets about his longing heart
and she thanked him for her being the heroine
of his poems as the dark lady of Shakespeare.
When he stretched his hand to pull her,
She hopped off and evaded his touch.
' Doesn't my heart have a nice embrace of yours? '
he asked her with his begging eyes.
' You will poach my heart first and then my body
feigning you are in love with me', she said biting her teeth.
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Lounge Bar
Lounge Bar
A rock group was beating the drums
and playing the guitars to a song of an Audio Player.
A dancing pair was raising the level of verve and
shaking the feet were the whites and blacks,
with a glass of wine or beer in one hand
and the other hand hugging the partner.
The young and the old relax and eat cakes and snacks.
They watch footies, horse-race and grandprix in a wide screen.
They take a sip and move with rhythm in close embrace.
The happy sellers of drinks and snacks too rock in glee.
Black and white but stout nude pictures come and go
and sounds of laughter have their echoes
And spill out through the small entrance.
See there in Madras, my country men,
emptying bottles of hot rums and brandhis,
and when the kick rises, break the glasses,
braying fierce cries, pull knives and stab
their fellow drunken men in brawls,
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