Monday, July 26, 2010

ഉട്ടോപിയ.

ആമസോണ്‍കാടുകള്‍
ദുബായ്എയര്‍പോര്ടിലിറങ്ങി
ഗള്‍ഫിലെങ്ങുംതുള്ളികളിച്ചു .

സഹാറാമരൂഭൂമി
നെടുംബാശേരിയിലെക്കുള്ള
ഫ്ലൈറ്റില്‍ യാത്രചെയ്യാന്‍ തുടങ്ങി .

ഈജിപ്തില്‍ നിന്നും
നൈല്‍ നദി
ഫ്രാന്സിലേക്ക് പോയി .

അമേരികയില്‍ നിന്നും
വെള്ളച്ചാട്ടങ്ങള്‍
അഫ്ഗാനിസ്ഥാനിലെത്തി.

അന് ട്ടാര്ടികയിലെ
മഞ്ഞുമലകള്‍
ആഫ്രികയിലേക്ക് സാന്‍ചരിച്ചു.

പാകിസ്താന്‍ ഗ്രാമങ്ങള്‍
ദില്ലിയില്‍ വിമാനമിറങ്ങി
ഇന്ത്യന്ഗ്രാമങ്ങളെ
ആലിംഗനം ചെയ്തു .

കേരളത്തിലെ വീടുകള്‍
ജമ്മുവിലേക്ക് തീവണ്ടി കയറി .
ആസാമിലെ മഴ
ചെന്നൈ റെയില്‍വേസ്റ്റഷനില്‍
വന്നിറങ്ങി മരിനയിലേക്ക് നടന്നു.

ഹിമാലയം ബാഗ്ദാദില്‍
കുടിയേറിപ്പാര്‍ത്തു.

മക്കയുംകാശിയും വിവാഹിതരായി
ജെറുസലേമില്‍ താമസമായി .

പാര്‍ലമെന്റും
വൈറ്റ്ഹൌസും
സ്ടാച്യു ഓഫ് ലിബര്‍ട്ടിയും
പക്ഷികൂടുകളായി .

ഭൂമിയുടെ ജന്മദിനം
കണ്ടെത്തിയതറിയിച്ച്
എസമെസുകളും
ഈമൈലുകളും
ആകാശമെങ്ങും പറന്ന്നു .

ഹൃദയാഘാത്താല്‍
മതഗര്‍ന്ധങ്ങള്‍ മരണമടഞ്ഞു .
ഭൂപടങ്ങള്‍ മാഞ്ഞുപോയി .
മേല്‍വിലാസങ്ങളും .

Thursday, July 15, 2010

ON PAINTINGS OF GANESH BABU CHEMBAYIL

Ganesh Babu Chembeyil’s paintings are always in search of polyphony. It stands against the minimized academic concepts of art. In each of his paintings, there is a complex analyzation of colours and is applied into the space with a different pattern. This is a’ hyperrealisation of real colour ’as the contemporary art critic Peter Halley said. Ganesh Babu’s treatment and improvisations enable him to share a fraternity with today’s painters like Bruce Newman, Richard Turtile, Eva Hesse, Biplab Dalai.,C.K Behra,C.H. Manohar…etc.

Through a spontaneous expressivity, he is trying to rediscover colours and content in every painting. He hesitates to fall into categories like still life, figurative, landscape, abstract, ethnic…. ’Fallen Hibiscus’,’Dancing God’,’Golden Comb’,’After Warly’,’Praris-1’,Paris-11
’…. all these creations are sheer examples for this. He is experimenting with different devices like splattered, stained, poured and the emphasis of brush strokes. The openness in his approach leads him to freewheeling usage of paint,-texture and surface. Most of the time it focused on hermeneutics and psychological interior.

From the 90s onwards, in art also a democratization happened, like in other fields of culture. The concept of art slowly escaped from the kinds of Fauvism, Surrealism, Expressionism, Cubism…and so on. And a break from Modernism was apparent. Artists of our time are trying to stamp, at the same time,the contradictions, complexities and freshness originated from such a break. Ganeshbabu’s works are also part of this new phenomenon and its limitations and scope.

GANESH BABU CHEMBAYIL

Lives and works in India and France.

Visit : http://ganeshbabu-painter.e-monsite.com/

Saturday, July 3, 2010

MAHATHMA GANDHI AND MAHADEV DESA I

In memory of the great gandhian who I know ,the creator of the wondrous movement 'Ayalkoottam',editor of 'Darshanam'(monthly) a platform for social awareness, D.Pankajakshakurup .



ECONOMIC AND INDUSTRIAL LIFE AND RELATIONS
By M.K.Gandhi

( Three volumes. Total pages-846 compiled and edited by V.B. Kher)

To Gandhiji, the motive behind every work is the realization of truth.Even a social and political system, in order to be far reaching, must have truthful urges serving as its basis.To him, therefore,Swaraj means self- control by each individual.A society where the individuals do not possess this quality is not ’really free’.When the individuals can control themselves,there is no need for external interference, so that there is a state of enlightened anarchy,and each individual is ‘really free’.Dictatorship is not a suitable means for the attainment of this ideal;For it does not pave the way for the withering away of the state;rather, it has a tendency to perpetuate violence and struggle for power.Gandhiji, therefore,champions decentralized democracy with ’ Panchayati Raj’ as its corner-stone.
On a similar ground, he decries the western pattern of industrialization.In the west,industrialization has caused concentration of economic power,economic inequality,and the conflict between capital and labour. Such a system is bound to hinder the unfolding of human personality. Therefore the use of machinery should be reduced to an essential minimum, and attention should be given to the development of each village as a self-contained unit ‘manufacturing mainly for use'.'"Provided this character of the industry is maintained, there would be no objection to villages using even modern machines and tools that they can afford to use. Only, they should not be used as a means of exploitation of others’. Gandhiji has also much to speak about bread labour, labour dispute, and similar other problems. His views on all these subjects and their interrelations have been admirably brought together in these three volumes. The book will be of immense help to every serious student of Gandhism.

LETTERS TO SARDAR VALLABHBHAI PATEL
By M.K.Gandhi

This book contains a bunch of letters of Gandhiji, translated from the original Gujarati, dealing mostly with the topics connected with the various phases of the independence struggle.

Letters, really speaking, mirror the contents of the writer’s mind. The different moods of the writer, reflecting his fears and disappointments, hopes and joys, humour, love, or sympathy, can be felt in the pages of this book. The letters cover the entire period of the hectic days of our national struggle from 1921 to 1947. It is fascinating to read what Gandhiji’s thoughts were on some of the important events that have shaped India’s future-Bardoli ‘satyagraha’; Round Table Conference; Bihar earthquake; Haripur Congress; Naokhali, Delhi, and Punjab disturbances; etc.
Students of history will derive much benefit from these letters, and the general reader will get a valuable insight into the personality of Gandhiji.

THE STORY OF BARDOLI

By Mahadev Desai

Bardoli’s name has been permanently inscribed in the pages of modern Indian history. The non-violent battle waged by the peasant population of this little taluk of Gujarat for seven months during 1928, under the inspiring leadership of Vallabhbhai Patel,was aimed at securing remission of an increased levy in land revenue.The satyagraha drew the attention of people even from remote countries and created a stir in the British Parliament .Its triumph acted as a fillip to India’s freedom struggle.Gandhiji wrote then:’Though the object of the proposed satyagraha is local and specific, it has an all-India application…..The struggle has an indirect bearing on swaraj’(p.45)
The author of this book, Mahadev Desai ,a martyr in the cause of India’s freedom, who worked for many years in close association with Gandhiji.The book unfolds,in arresting language,the history of Bardoli satyagraha and its sequel, in two parts. When it was first published in 1929, the volume must have acted as an immediate tonic to the freedom movement.Now this book will be read like a story by the young generation.All the same, the author has made the book authentic with numerous quotations from actual correspondence and many statistical details .


A NOTE ON QURAN

If we read Quran between the lines, we will come across eloquent passages breathing a spirit of universal toleration and harmony.It is an embodiment of the rich contents of the Prophet's mind,as well as of the loftiness of his spiritual genius.It is really an insult to human wisdom to suppose that Prophet of Islam did actually advocate compulsion in religion. The verses quoted below from Quran constitute proofs positive of his catholicity and friendliness towards the religions of others. The Quran says: 'If thy Lord had pleased,verily all who are in earth would be loved together. What! Whilt thou compel men to become believers?' Say thou:'I worship not that ye worship,and ye do not worship that which I worship;neither shall I worship what ye worship;neither ye worship what I worship;to you be your religion;to me my religion'.'Revile not those whom they call on beside God,lest they, in their ignorance, despitefuly revile Him.Thus have we planned out their actions for every people;then shall they return to their Lord,and He will declare to them what those actions have been.' 'Verily, they who believe, they who follow the Jewish religion, and the Christians,and the Sabeites, whoever of these doeth that which is right, shall have their reward with their Lord;fear shall not come upon them, neither shall be grieved'.'And if God had pleased,He had surely made you all one people; but He would test you by what He hath given to each.Be emulous, then , in good deeds.To God shall ye all return, and He will tell you concerning the subject of disputes'.'To everyone of you have we given a rule and a beaten track'.'Our God and your God are one God and after Him we all strive'.
Indeed,what stronger and more convincing testimony is needed to demonstrate the universalism in Islam-the freedom extended in Quran to every man to follow his own convictions in matters religious? The illustrious Persian poet Sanai has also sung to the same tune:'Islam and the faiths other than Islam follow Thee,O Lord,when they declare that there is no god but God'.Even the beautiful song of the celebrated Urdu poet Zafar expresses the same sentiment: 'Angels and men, Hindus and Mussalmans, thou , O Lord,hast created according to Thy sweet will.Everyone bows to Thee, for it is Thou who art worshiped everywhere- in the Caaba, in the mosque,or in the temple. Thou art omnipresent.Every heart is a dwelling place,and Thou art the dweller. There is no heart where Thou abidest not. Thou dost abide equally in all hearts, for Thou art all that exist in the universe'.So does another Urdu bard sing:
'Only names differ,Beloved!
All forsooth are but the same.
Both the ocean and the dew-drop,
But one living liquid frame.

--------------------------------

*Remembering Kalam Vellimadu who gave me the Quran for the first time, E. Moidu Maulavi Sahib who taught me the depth of Urdu language, and friends Abdur Rehman Kutty,Syed Alavi Sahib,Nazar.

*Quotations from Quran (Translated from the Arabic by Rev.J.M.Rodwell)



Friday, July 2, 2010

ജിപ്സിയുടെ ലോകങ്ങള്‍

1

വഴി തെറ്റും .

തിരച്ചിറകിലേറി
കടലുകള്‍
ആകാശത്ത് കൂടുകൂട്ടും .

കുന്നുകളില്‍
ഉദയാസ്തമയങ്ങള്‍
ഉടക്കിപ്പാറും.

വൃക്ഷങ്ങള്‍
മലയിറങ്ങി വന്നു
താഴ്വരയില്‍
വലയെറിയും.

മന്കുടങ്ങളില്‍
സുര്യചന്ദ്രന്മാര്‍
പതഞ്ഞുയരും
ഇലച്ച്ചുണ്ടുകള്‍
ദാഹം തീര്കും.

കാല്പ്പാടുകളില്ലാതെ
ഭൂമി പുനര്‍ജനിക്കും .

വഴികള്‍
മാഞ്ഞുപോകും.

2

മനുഷ്യപാദങ്ങള്‍
വഴികളെ വൃണങ്ങളാക്കും.


പിന്നില് മറഞ്ഞതെല്ലാം
മുന്നിലേക്ക്‌ തികട്ടും .
ഒളിപ്പോരാളിയും
ഒറ്റുകാരനുമാകും .
ആഹിംസയാല്ഹിംസിക്കും
നീതിമാനും
കശാപ്പുകാരനുമാകും.

വീണ്ടും വീണ്ടും
പടച്ച്ചട്ടയണിയും
പരാജയപ്പെട്ട്
തിരിച്ചുവരും .

ആരുമറിയാത്തിടത്ത്
അജ്ഞാതശവമാകും
പുഴുക്കള്‍ പൊതിയും.

മണ്ണുമാത്രം
കൈനീട്ടും .

Friday, June 25, 2010

WITH V.DAKSHINAMURTHY

Here is the music maestro V. Dakshinamurthy,unmindful of the hue and cry of the age,reluctant to fame,positions and controversies. Yes,the master beyond par excellence. All time favourite of music lovers who blended malayalam film songs with carnatic music,made them evergreen;a devotee of music.

A nonagenerian,'swamy',he is affectionately called takes life as a compassionate,delicate feeling. I met him at the Garuda Appartments, with his younger daughter Parvathi and family , which is on the north gate of the Sri Padmanabhaswamy temple in Trivandrum. I learned, for those who are pious at heart,old age cannot catch them easily. He presents a moving symbol of this fact ,energetic walking,movements, nonstumbling dulcet
voice,compliant,godly demeanour and radiant eyes. The old age of this perpetual traveller too is clear and undefiled.

He began, where is truth? My be he is quite conscious of our tarnished surroundings. He answered it as nothingness. Nothingness is the prime truth, the yogic essence says Swami. If there is real music ,it is God itself. He compares God to a merciful sea incessantly pouring out music. Sangeetha Ganga has no other way but to merge with the sea of music. As a music enthusiast his bliss lies in searching for the God with undying form of music.

His eloquence fills with spiritual plenty. In the contemporary world where spiritualism is played as trump card to win fame and fortune, among spiritual superstars who become best sellers in American market,this devout musician stands alone because of righteousness and creative goodness.He hasn't any wishes but for the immaculate naturalism,that is his spirituality. And his music is the completion emerging out of the depths of that spirituality.

Swamy always remembers what his Guru Venkitachalam Potti had said. 'Knowledge is like water in a well. It replenishes again, the more you draw,the more it supplies. Swami has no disciples in the Gurukula system but there are numerous informally. Just as his Guru advised he shared his knowledge to others and hence his life is gratified.

He spends his time travelling, to the dear and near in Chennai,Trivandrum, Palghat and to many temples. They satisfy him and in such fruitful journeys,places, time never bothers,he said. 'I don't want
to compare old and modern film songs. Likes and dislikes are creations of the mind. It's not easy for sound to become a song. Song is a completion,perfection. Sound is the beginning. Unfortunately most of the songs remain as sounds',he added.

When asked how he spends a day,what Swamy said became his definition of music. He turns every moment a chant through meditation. That is how the day goes. The tail end of the rosary is in the musician's hands. The song as kite, tied by its thread is in the infinite sky.Once chanting ceases songs vanish.Then what's music? He was silent for a moment, 'it's nothingness'.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

കാട്ടില്‍ പോകാം

1

മരം മരത്തോട്‌ പറയുന്ന ഭാഷ
മേഘച്ചെവികള്‍ വട്ടംപിടിച്ച്
കേള്‍ക്കുന്ന ആകാശം

പൂക്കള്‍ കാണുന്ന സ്വപ്നം
പകര്‍ന്നാടുന്ന മഹാഗണി
പുഴുവിനെയും അട്ടകളെയും
തലോടുന്ന നിഴലുകള്‍


2

ആകാശത്ത്
നിശബ്ദത വരച്ച്
പരുന്ത് പറക്കുന്നു

ആ നിശബ്ധതയ്ക്
നിറം കൊടുത്ത്
തുംപികള്‍ പാറുന്നു.


3

പച്ച ഫ്രോക്കിട്ട്
പച്ച റിബണ്‍ കെട്ടി
നൃത്തം വെക്കുന്ന
കൊച്ചു പെണ്‍കുട്ടിയായി
ഒരു മരം . ഒരുപാട് മരങ്ങള്‍


4
പുല്പ്പരപ്പിലിരിക്കുംപോള്‍
പച്ചയുടെ ചരിത്റം
പച്ചനിറം കാന്വാസ്സില്‍
മരങ്ങള്‍ അഴിച്ചിട്ട
പച്ചതലമുടി
കാറ്റില്‍ പറക്കുന്നു .

5

സ്ഫടികവെയില്‍ ചില്ലിനപ്പുറം
നീലാകാശം.
ഇപ്പുറം കാടിന്റെ ജലച്ചായ.

രണ്ടും കണ്ടു നില്‍കുന്ന
മലവാകമരങ്ങള്‍

മരങ്ങള്കു താഴെ
കറുത്ത മണ്ണില്‍
പാഴായ കാല്പാടുകള്‍


6

കാടിന് നടുവില്‍
നീര്ചോലക്കരയില്‍
സ്വസ്ഥം മലര്‍ന്നു കിടക്കുക .
കാതോര്ക്കുക.
കാറ്റിനെ കാണാം .

കാട്ടുപോതമാരുമ്പോള്‍
കാട്ടുപോതതാകുന്ന കാറ്റ് .
കിളിയൊച്ചകളില്‍
കിളികളാകുന്ന കാറ്റ്.
മരച്ചില്ലകളുലയുംപോള്‍
മരമാകുന്ന കാറ്റ് .
കൊച്ചനക്കങ്ങളില്‍
പച്ചത്തുള്ളനായും
ശലഭമായും കാറ്റ്.
പച്ചക്കടലില്‍
പച്ചത്തിരമാലകളില്‍
ഇലത്തോനിയില്‍
കാറ്റിനൊപ്പം യാത്റ.

7

കാട്ടില്‍ ചെലലും കവികള്‍
എഴുതിയ കവിതകളെല്ലാം
കാട്ടിലെറിഞ്ഞു
തിരിച്ചിറങ്ങുക.

വീട്ടിലെത്തുമ്പോള്‍
ഒഴിഞ്ഞ കടലാസ്സില്‍
അവര്‍ കവിത കണ്ടെത്തും.









Sunday, June 13, 2010

SONGS OF ALVARS

The Alvars, who laid the foundation for the Vaishnavite movement, were the pioneers of the religion of love. Along with the rest of the country, South India was feeling the impact of Jainism and Budhism during the few centuries before, and in the early centuries of, Christian era. It was during this period ,Alvars with sweet melodies in the popular tongue on their lips, wandered through Tamil land.Thus was set in motion a new revival of Bhakthi movement.
The precise dates of the different Alvars cannot be determined. But it is generally agreed that they lived at different periods during the three centuries beginning from A.D 500.Their influence was mainly confined to the Tamil speaking areas ruled by the four kingdoms of the Pallava, Chola, Pandya, Chera. According to tradition the Alvars were Twelve in number. It is significant that most of them were of humble parentage, and did not attach any importance to caste. However, the character of their lives inspired by divine love endeared them to the people, and differences of caste or position were washed off before this tide.
It was their bhakhti literature that attracted Sri Natha Muni (A.D.824-924),the first of the acharyas of Vaishnavism towards them .The doctrine of self-surrender, later developed by the acharyas , was derived from the Alvars.The acharyas were well-versed in Sanskrit and Tamil.They had a thorough knowledge of the Vedas, Upanishads, and other scriptures. Sri Ramanuja belonged to this line of acharyas.Sri Natha Muni took upon himself the task of popularizing the songs of the Alvars.He classified and arranged them metrically, to be chanted in temples side by side with the Vedic hymns. These poems of great beauty are known by the name 'Divya Prabandham’, numbering over four thousand. The twelve Alvars were:Poigai,Bhutattar,Pey,Tirumalisai,Nammalvar,Madhurakavi,Kulasekhara,Periyalvar,Andal,Tondaradippodi,Tiruppan, and Tirumangai.

*' Bhakthi Poonga' , a tamil book by G. Ethirajulu Naidu, Dr. N.V. Krishna Warrier's introductions to' Verakkuru', a book based on the early Tamil literature ,a translation of Sangha poetry in Malayalam,translation of early Kannada poetry , M.Govindan's study on Mahakavi Tholan ,Ponnambalam Arunachalam's "Philosophical study on East and West",Ayyappapanicker's and D. vinayachandran's studies on thina concept, Satchidanandan's in depth study on Bhakthi literature and his poems on the same subject are available and I request to read them along with this note.

*Thanks for the Tamil language,which is part of my life.


NAMMALVAR

Nammalvar occupies the formost place among the Alvars.Out of his contribution of 1296 verses to the Divya Prabandham ,his magnum opus,Tiruvaimoli,contains 1102.He was born to a vellala (farmer) couple at Karungur-called Alvar Tirunagari now- in Thirunelveli district .His earlier works ,Tiruviruttam, Tiruvasiriyum ,and Peru Tiruvandadi , contain 100,7,87 verses respectively.


Enemies rejoice,dear one suffer,
Death covers everything, men are deceived
Riches ,friends, high heritage,
Dear sweet heart,and one’s own dwelling,
All are left behind; quick Death carries
All ,with suddenness.
O what is this Nature
That spreads destruction?
Like bubbles on water, this life never abides;
Monarchs, surrounded by regality ,disappear unknown.

O seek His lotus feet ,the only refuge.
……………………………

The great magician,
Tricky thief,
He ,a mystery poet disguised,
Entered my life and heart unseen,
And filled my whole being.

TIRUMANGAI ALVAR


Tirumangai was the last of the Alvars. Born to a kalla couple,he was named Nilan, owing to his blue complexion.He has to his credit a number of works, Peria Tirumoli, Tirukkuruntandakam, Tiruneduntandakam, Siria Tirumadal, Peria Tirumadal, and Tiruvelukutrirukkai. His verses a total 1360,thus contributing the largest share to the four thousand verses of the Alvars.

He who destroyed the evil demons,
Aided by monkeys and bears,
That Lord, who is my honey and milk,
His name did I utter.
…………………………………

Torturing your body
And imprisoning life,
And throwing all the
Five senses in agony,
Why do you dry up in fiery austerities?
Reach Chitrakuta where flora and fauna
Smile in adundence.
And there
Devote yourself to His worship.

KULASEKHARA

Kulasekhara is well known for his celebrated Sanskrit hymn Mukundamala. He was the son of the king of the Chera kingdom, corresponding to the present Kerala state.His tamil work Perumal Tirumoli consists of 105 psalms, divided into ten sections.



Shall that day dawn when lovers of the Lord,
With songs enchanting on their lips,
Shall dance together in ecstasy?
When the ground shall
Turn muddy with their tears of joy,
In that holy Flood ,holier than the Ganga,
When shall I roll in delight?

………………………………….

A particle of sand the earth is,
The ocean, a little drop,
Fire, a tiny spark twinkling,
Vayu,a feeble breath,
And space a mere minute hole.

………………………….

They think of this fleeting world
As if full of eternal good;
They who always greedily brood
Over food and raiment for this fleshy mould.
O save me from their company ,
They travel in evil avenues.

PERIYALVAR

Periyalvar was born to a Brahmin family in Srivilliputtur, in the kingdom of the Pandyas. His only work known as Tirumoli contains 461 stanzas. Most of these refer to the Krishna incarnation.

The flock of deer
With tremulous eyes,
Their mouthfuls of grass slip off
At the call of Krishna’s flute;
They stand enchanted like
Deer in a picture.

……………………………

O fool,you call your sons
With earthly names, of mortals
Who reach dusty graves.
O call them with His numerous names,
The blue one,the cynosure of all eyes.

ANDAL

A reference has already been made as to how Periyalvar found a a female child under a ‘tulasi’ bush in his garden. He brought her home, and his wife, too, was overjoyed .They named her Goda (in Tamil,Kodai). The word means ‘she who was born of Mother Earth '.
Andal 's mysticism has been compared to that of Mirabai and St.Theresa.Her two works are Thiruppavai and Nachiyar Tirumoli,containing 30 and 143 stanzas respectively. They have found an esteemed place in Tamil literature.

O my dear cuckoo,
Are you unaware of
Lovers grief?
My bones are all softened.
My spear-like eyes
Remain unwinked for days many.
Caught in the sea of distress,
I look for that ferry boat,
Called the Lord of Vaikunda.
Would you not call Him of golden hue,
Whose banners bear the royal eagle?

BHOPAL:A SEQUEL

To C.R. Parameswaran


This place of the dead.
Here the air is only rarely touched with life.
When it stirs,we shiver.
Cold sweat collects in a sticky pool at the base of the spine.

---Gavin Barrett


A journey to Bhopal a few years ago. The affected poor seems more alienated.Diminishing defenses. Irresponsibility of local governments. Withdrawal of writers and cultural leaders. Alzheimer's affected civil society. Yes C.R. What you have said is quite true,we are dead and gone.

In fact this is not only the problem of Bhopal,but also of Chattisgarh,Orissa ,Nandigram and Bihar.......where the same had occurred in a way or other. This is not book knowledge but the experiences of an illiterate man who wanders through the villages of India. I was flabbergasted at the sad plight of the villagers,increasing rate of HIV patients in the rural population of Orissa. And numerous N.G.Os thrive on harvesting them and the business grows globally. This going to be yet another sore wound. Till then,nobody 'll turn towards them including politicians,cultural workers,administrators and others.Poverty,caste descriminations,lack of drinking water,atrocities against women are some of the problems of Chattisgarh . Our democracy has nothing to say and they turn deaf ears to their cries.' When democracy fails, the public seek the help of insurgents',opines noted sociologist James W. Lethe in his book 'Death in Globalization' .

What about Kerala? The adivasis are manipulated cruelly,silently. Recently I've been to their settlements in Podiyam,Pattanippara to script a documentary and short film directed by Pramod Payyannur. The subject of the project was the exploitation of Adivasis. Their life harassed by middlemen are beyond mentioning . Their identities too were looted for political gain. This is also another source of future chaos. On the one side there's globalization,development spree, internet,info-tech, and on the other the cast out public, and the marginalized sectors. This is the' sociological dualism' of John O.Neikirk. The end result of this is not inventive but disturbing. We're going through such a situation now.

No doubt,all of the said problems need to be solved democratically. If we are to call those who work for broadening the concept of democracy, to get it to grass root level,are patriots, then sorry to say, that is an endangered species. We should have to receive its transgressions . And it is apparent that no one has the right to evade it.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

BHOPAL

-There is no place called Bhopal.
No Union Carbide
No one was choked to death-

Hats off to Indian democracy,
Congrats! administrators of India,
Salute Indian judiciary,
Who brought this truth
Adventurously
After 26 year long research.

And...
The country is capable enough to silence
the lying people
the laments
with army operation.

Jaihind.

Monday, April 19, 2010

DAY DREAM

Trees
Climb to the hill.
Swaying hands.
Pressing feet.
Valley gazes.
Streams accolade.

Sea sees
Rains slow walk
Down the shore.
Her flying frock.

Sea calls
Rain strolls away.
Her hair soars.

Dancing butterflies.
Rainbow flakes on
Forlorn earth.
Silent sky looks.

Friday, April 16, 2010

NO MORE NUDITY

Fetid naked earth.
Open,paranoic sky.
Caustic privates of rivers.
Unfold rotten seas.
Baked barren hills.
Undraped wailing trees.
Ravished wounded forests.

sit,
Click the mouse,
Hack internet nudism,
Until dead soil exposed.

No erection.
Nothing.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

I P L

I

Moulds change.
Beholders transmute.
Stadia alters.
Copy books corrode.

Who recalls
The black dominance
Of Gary Sobers,
Gavaskar's
Love like shots,
Kapil Dev's inswingers
That soared as swans,
Sylvan sway of
Vivian Richards,
Imran Khan's leap
As Albatross,
And the dying earth?

Off the fields
The stars'll be
Dissembled by clouds
All of a sudden
Age gulps them.

Who recollects
Memories?

II

Young Suns
Throb in the net.
Spectators uproar
In their strife.

Nothing changes but change.

Let the celebration on.
Let the cheer girls foam.
Let the spicey I P L
Dazzle in the market.

The quest for drinking water
Probes the moon.
Life ends in
A maiden over.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

SACHIN TENDULKAR

Crimson parakeets
And white doves
Flew from the crease
Nestled in hearts.

The bat touched
Grounds blossomed.
In each petals
Gods scribbled verses.

Seas stormed out
With the frolics in the pitch.

Colours melted
In the ivory of the bat.
Sounds merged
In its silence.

The past waited.
The present,grateful.
The future'll make tales.

Not mortal and immortal.

The magician,
With a wand of willow
Regained those haven't history.

A sailor
Marooned in storm.

In ways obscure,
Boldly explored
The unknown.
.......Thus wrote
a bee,
Frenzied in the might
you wielded the bat.

But, dear Sachin
I hate you.
'cause
Like a slave,
I'm in a slum,
Where
your sixer cannot reach.

Friday, April 9, 2010

RAJAM PUSHPAVANAM:IN MEMORY OF A UNIQUE VOICE

This dates back to a score of years. I met Perumal Muthiah in Aavarampalayam, Coimbatore. He was a devout music lover and a true friend, through him I happened to know about a lot of things in life. He owned a marvelous collection of music records and cassettes. I was a vagabond then, he took me as his roommate, fed, clothed and kept me alive in those years of penury.

I accompanied him in his long journeys to 100 feet road, Gandhipuram, Maruthamala, those rambles provided apt background for discussions on world literature, music and everything under the Sun. He introduced me to maestros like Tiger Varadachari, Kishori Amonker, Karaikkurichi Arunachalam, M.D.Ramanathan, Chandru Atma, Mallikarjun Mansur, Mehdi Hassan etc,. I heard Mohammad Rafi’s Hindusthani Bhajans for the first time in Muthiah’s gramophone. He was a cornucopia of knowledge. I learned of film directors like Mahendran, Rudrayya; writers like Kulaikoothan, Mouni, Na. Muthuswamy ; painters like Aadimulam, danseuse like Leela Samson, through him.

I heard of Rajam Pushpavanam from Muthiah who was an ardent fan of her. He appreciated her ,used to say of her ‘ostensible voice’, those were his own words on Rajam. Later in our travel to Himalaya; in a frosty night ,near Adibadrinath temple, I heard Rajam’s serene rendition in Muthiah’s taperecorder. It cured me off all the pains and it proved again that music is a panacea.

In ‘Philosophical Studies on East and West’ by Sir Ponnambalam Arunachalam, he pointed out Rajam’s soul stirring expatiation in the chapter dealing with music and philosophy. While reading I mused on that unsung artist. Since then I never heard anyone mentioning Rajam Pushpavanam related to music.

I came to know that later Muthiah had become an ascetic and now I have no idea of his whereabouts. Whenever I hear Rajam Pushpavanam’s blissful voice , I remember Muthiah.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

MICHAEL JACKSON

Feet
Disseminated storms.
Nothing dismantled
Everything originated.
Lost blossoms,
Birds,trees,seasons.

Spindle body effused
Thunder and lightning.
Afreshed sky and earth.
Gulfs among mankind
Faded off.
World become a
Toy of kids.

Arms throbbed to hug
The dying earth.
Music effloresced
From the quivering.

Childhood devastated.
Youth wanted to mend.
But death, clowned.

Taught loneliness
In fame and furore.
REAL MUSIC TOO.

Monday, April 5, 2010

KASHMIR

VISIT-I

On taking leave
Nafisa gave
A Chinar leaf.

Chart of tears
Glowed in it.

Mist nestled trees.

Stars melted
In Jhelum.
Bluish hearts
Flew over as moths.

VISIT-II

Curfew torn streets
Speeding army trucks.

Election posters
Plastered wounds.

Gunned down twilight
Fluttered in the Dal lake.

Alone,at night
To Chasmeshahli.
Haunted in memories
In Gulmarg.
At Khulanmarg
As destitute.

Infront
Hurriedly
A Chinar leaf falls
Glued
In human flesh and blood.

Frightened Jhelum
Flows feverish.


*Jhelum, a river.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

GLOSSARY OF PRINTED MATTERS , ANTHOLOGIES

*Mathrubhumi Daily(Nagaram,August 8,2009)
*Mathrubhumi Weekly (August 14-20,1994)
*Madyamam Weekly(New Year Edition,January 5-12,2009)
*Madyamam Daily(Sunday Edition,January 18,2009)
*Kunkumam Monthly(March,2010)
*Keralakaumudi Daily(Sunday,April,26,2009)
*Kalakaumudi Weekly(Onam spcial,August 22,1999)
*Sahithyalokam(Kerala Shithya Aademy,july-August,2009)
*Keli(Kerala sangeetha nadaka academi,August-November,2007)
*Malayalam Weekly(July 4,2008)
*Deshabhimani daily(Inter National Film Festival edition,2009)
*Bhashaposhini Magazine(September,2005)
*Veekshanam Daily(Sunday,October12,2008)
*Malayalam Weekly(July6,2007)
*Padabhetham(February,2003)
*Madyamam Weekly(November 5,2007)
*Janayugam Daily(Sunday,July 19,2009)
*Kalakaumudi Weekly(June 15,2008)
*Janayugam Daily(Sunday,November 16,2008)
*Tejas Daily(Sunday,September 28,2008)
*Kalaveekshanam Monthly(September,2001)
*Vishakalanam Monthly(December,2002)
*Nilapad Monthly(November,2007)
*Athirdisa Monthly(March,2008)
*Kavithasngamam Monthly(May,2000)
*Madyamam WEekly(December 31,2007)
*Madyamam Weekly(August 3,2007)
*Gulf Voice Monthly(December,1998)
*Janashakthi Weekly(September 6-19,2008)
*Tejas Varshikam(2009)

ANTHOLOGIES

*Akashathile Arupikalku(Mulberry publications,Kozhikode,August 1996)
*R.Ramachandran,Kaviyum Kavithayum(Poorna Edition,January 2006)
*Malayalathinte Pranayakavithakal(Mulberry,2000)
*Yuvakavithakuttam(D.C.Books,1999)

Friday, March 26, 2010

PALLIKARNAI POEMS

Pallikarnai,one of the prominent waterbodies that once provided life breath to Chennai (Tamilnadu, India) is now a garbage dumpyard. It now serves as a moving symbol of how the civilized can threaten the environment.




I

Pallikarnai
Resounds
In the Alps.
Retches the himalayas.

Foams
In the Ganges.
Forays the volga.

Muddles
In the Amazon
Mucks the Nile.

Incarnates
In myriad moulds
And disguises
Around the world.

Masking the demon behind
Hoodwinks the beholder
Letting none to snare.

II

The subjacent hell
Pandemic heaps of plastics
Annals of the soil receded.

Putrifying greed
Kicked shut
The eyes of mother earth.

Clinging the remnants
Eager to sprout
Future laments.

Wailing of
Strangled stars
Unceased.

Abandoned birds
Scribbles the dirge
In the blazing sky.

III

Fire unfurled
Everywhere.

The stretching blaze
Scorched the city
Stoked humen bodies.

Their mind
Charred long ago.

Unable to bear
The acrid smell
Wind collapsed.

Streets whirls around
Stuck in the hounding wheels.

The world
Tosses upside down.

IV

Flies
Abducted the city.

Assaulted school buses

As tanks
Demolished the sky scrappers.

As missiles
Sped up to homes.

In hungry mouth
Dropped bombs.

Eyes were plucked out,
Lips consumed.

Dismayed sky shrunk.
Stars severed down.

Corses
Drifted in drinking water.

Wings are swords
Legs are spears.

Flies.

V
Before dying
Wriggling soil
Asked the children

Would you give
The leafy eyes
Only to see me?

Before the fall
Writhing earth
Entreated the children

would you give
The ears of green trees
Only to hear me?

To the world of the matured
Went the little ones
Searching leafy eyes and ears.

Will they return?

If return
Will the soil and earth remain?

VEMBANADAN LAKE

Vembanadan lake.

A canvas
That never dried.

Sky flew down
And sat on my shoulder,
A loner.

On the green meadows
The book of dew drops fell,
Scattered and torn.

Night swells.

GIRLS IN THE TENNIS COURT

The short skirt
Hovers up.

Eyes perceive
On the lingerie
The dark future
Behind.

Pondering over the
Luscious breasts
They'll taste
Of cooked meat.

The exposed thighs
Like the shapes made of
Sandstorms in the desert
Become the feast.

Don't want to see anymore.
No curiosities left.

Women, no longer a surprise.
Nudity isn't a topic of discussion.

TRAVEL POEMS

VAISHALI

Nalanda to Vaishali
Only a birth's distance.

Still it felt farther.

While travelling
Distance increases
Not deceases.

DELHI

Here,
Resolutions
Made.

A one-eyed kite
Never flies above dollars
Executes it.

The tourist guide hesitated
To reveal the rest.

He seems to be
Afraid of someone.

KASHI

Tales of salvation
Told a lot.

Had Ganga possessed
THe fury of Kali?

While dipping in the river
No doubt,man.

Emerging out
Yes, what is it?

MUMBAI

The eyes of the city
Oscillates
Like a pendulam.

They don't show time.

Want to know ?

Keep a dead watch
On your wrist.

KUSHINAGAR

Though Sri Budha
Had dissolved
The soil lacks fertility.

Human corpses
Make soil rich.

The plants and trees here
Herald not luxuriance.

The dead
May not be human.

I'm mystified.

May not be God.

Then, what?

DHARAVI

Sea of tiny sheds
They call home.

Made of torn mats
Rusty tin sheets
Decayed palm leaves
And hopes.

Ganga of drains
Saintly mosquitoes
Himalaya of epidemics.

Not in television
Blank in tourism guide.

I wanna be there.

Where is Dharavi?

VARANASI

A Vararuchi
Among the commuters?

A Dharmaputhra?

Rails are old and beaten.
The trains
Never belong to this age.

Poem lingered lips.
An oldy asks,
ARE YOU RECITING MANTHRAS?

He was on his way to Kashi.

The train came.

In the rush
The old man thrown out.

Instead of manthras
He murmured curses.

I still hums verses.

ALAPPUZHA

Hands of backwaters
Wrap the universe.

The dragon fly flutters
Wings stuck in
His own life blood.


Alappuzha lies
As the heart of a sea bird
Soars far off.

NALANDA

There was a university,
The guide said.

A request.

Don't click cameras,
Please.

History has no rebirth.

Atrocious lies
Everything.

BOKARO

Day light

The steelcity
Doesn't glitter.

The people
Working in the plants
Seems civilised.

Their flaked lips
Moved like ratchet wheels.

May be indicating
Immigrated civilisation.

But people around
Resembled aborigines.

Worn out history smiles.

The civilised and uncivilised!

Resounds siren.

BUDHAGAYA

A bodhi tree
Scattered temples.

Saffron clad sanyasi
Pees in public.

An eccentric got
Enlightenment here.

At gaya
The railway station.

While walking along
The sleeping and huddled shapes
I've lost another dream.
(Damn the dream,who needs it!)

THIRUPATHI

A spot forgot
To be wiped out.

Shaved heads of men.

Anti smell of
Turmeric and sandalwood paste.

Holy manthras
Remained undigested
In the electric light.

A heaven
For slaves.

RAJAGIRI

The present
Scales the mountain
Enduring the unbearable cold.

It might be a slip out.

Is it the temple atop
Caught their fancy?

It can also be
The inborn trait
To conquer the heights.

Unbrushed morning yawns.

In a journey
Why did the resting place
Become afflicting?

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

LOVE POEMS

I

You are a drop of ocean
A tip of sky
A pinch of cyclone
A colorful night.

You are my eyelid
I craved for you.

You reached like a wave
Pulled me like a sea.

II

If you tunes
Birds will talk.

I'm the riddle
Fill me up.

III

In the banks of a river
I'm waiting.

Virgin water
Splashed on my face.

The moon brought
All the stars in the sky.

Sheet of dew
Fell on the grass.

Time chokes in my heart.

IV

I'm in a cloud
Night engulfs.

Death stalks
At my feet.

You are dawn
Just vanished.

V

Discussions

Something has
Missed out.

Lightning.

Shadows of yellow and green.

Suddenly drenched in rain.

VI

Where were you
All these days?

Where were you hiding?

Something is burning.

VII

Bits of love
Gentle breeze
seductive nature
Nameless fragrance.

Exiled in unknown.

VIII

I reach the sky
Sans effort.

To bring the moon
As carpet for you.

Then turned to pieces.

IX

With swaying hands
A flower came.

Lips made
Melody inside.

Mesmerising dance
Twinkling stars.

A tide in my heart
Sweetness in roots.

X

I died gradually
Lost everything.

Earth and space in you.

Shower me
Quench my thirst.

Regained verses.

XI

Silence.
Silence.

Why there is silence?

Your eyes says it all.

XII

Love soars
Wings infinite.

See you in earth
Forgotten by god.

Whole world slumbers.

Monday, March 22, 2010

POLAR POEMS

RAIN

Did it begin rain
In seashore?

Weaving web
With strands of rain
Waiting for prey?

Does it remind
The lassie of first love
When we parted
On a rainy day?

Is the strumpets
Stripped their nudity
Licks the scratchy privates
Of the world?

Do they protect
The vicious world?

The rain
Flows thro' satellite veins
Fluttered,churned.

Thinking of
Music of rain
Felt the nausea of the
Great ages left?

Rain in the seashore?
Who knows?

DISTORTED

Arabian sea
Encroached the city
With chopped head
And swelled legs.

Clouds fought like black cats
Spirit scented rain raged on.

The world lay
As if in a morgue
Varied dance accrued
Atop it.

View distorted/

FANTACY

Her cotton sari
Ensnared the city
Hands spirited
Neck sought to strangle
Legs fly
Hair soar madness
Ears melted cell phones
Heart collapsed the sky.

Alone
In a house
Sans address.

INDU , THE FIVE YEAR OLD

Dragged off to school
The little girl sobbed.

Fortressed school vans.
Enchained buildings.

Crying scapegoat.

Getting out
Savage.

BEHIND A YOUNG MAN

Aged man.

Won't see the young
See the eyes
The scorching tears.

Seizes the young
Epistles of love.

Hides the hues of youth
In saffron spirituality.

Aged man.

INDIA

India is a bird
In the map
Ready to soar.

Bengal and Assam
A wing.
Gujarat and Rajasthan
Another.

The pinnacle
Jammu Kashmir
Gazes.

Delhi and Punjab
Stirs the body.

Kerala
Hangs on tail
A stylet.

LOOK

A vulture feeds corses ?

A myena that sings ?

TO FATHER , UNTOLD

We discussed poetry
In rented homes.

Claws hiding
They asked.

What's the use of poetry?

Airconditioned Professors
Growled.

What poem
Without honors?

Pasting flaky smile
Breaking the world
The editors roar.

Poem,not printed at all?

Benumbed in cold
We chased to poles.

We quarelled
Fondness rustled.

You
Frequented toddy shops
Befriended young men.

Before your poetry
Rocked skies
You went away.

Folk memories
went too with you.

Defiance
Bravado
Conflicts
No more.

Time
The turbid water
Everyone catches fish.

I'm waiting
turn to come.

GIRL IN JEANS

Strolls with men
Moves like men
Observes time
Possess political acumen
A polyglot.

Sits as she wish
One leg on the other
Or kept wide open.

Thwarted my male look
With a NO.
LET THE WORLD CHANGE
For an I LOVE YOU.

Proud bossom
Naughty butts

A pass at her
In a crowded bus ,
Your genitals suffer.

Midnight.
Coimbatore.
100 feet road.

In the terrace
Tried to grab
She smothered
My cheeks.

Never believe men
Preach progress.

DAMSELS IN KUTTANAD

In Kuttanad
The damsels
Never outruns girlhood.

Like lakes,
Stirs in gentle breeze.

In the brook
Perches becomes stars
At their sight.

At the twinkling anklets
Water lilies flushed.

From the untied hair
The blackened shadows flies.
Seeing the ebony bossom
The sky bloomed wide.

Prof : K.P.APPAN SAYS

He tries to mould poems in a style of his own.
He creates poetry searching the beauty with a difference.
His poems delve into the core of youth.

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This is a delicate natural craze.
Passion towards poetry is a self torture.
From this self torture too the poet gets perturbing insights.
Justification and beauty of this discomposure is the poetry of Sabu.
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To one who is indecisive and always in quest,poetry grows into his unrest. (K.P.Appan,an eminent literary critic in Malayalam)

PROFILE

Sabu shanmughom is a bilingual poet,traveller,freelance journalist.
A collection of poems,Akashathile Arupikalku[Mulberry edition]in his credit.
Poems and essays appeared in Anthologies,Yuvakavithakuttam[D.C books],Malayalathinte PranayakvithakalMulberry],R.Ramachandran,Kaviyum Kavithayum[Poorna edition],Murivetta Sheershakangal[Pen books].
Also appeared in major Malayalam Dailies,Periodicals,Web magazines.
Edited a little magazine,Bahuvachanam.
Worked as correspondent to Al-Ameen daily,( Kozhikode) in the great presence of the freedom fighter E.Moidu Maulavi Sahib.
Scripted for shortfilms,documentaries,television shows.
Wandered all over India for a period of eight years doing odd jobs.
Now living in Trivandrum.