THE MAESTRO WHO MASTERED THE ACT OF ACTING

     A tribute on his 50th death anniversary[15/6//2021]

 Acting talents are inborn, actors make their roles immortal,

 This maestro, enacted in real life before the maquillage,

 As a school teacher, as clerical work, embassy office in all, 

 Besides such posts, all these roles done with this physique.

Two decades of mesmerizing roles, by this next door man, 

All of simplicity, a fighter to the core, sans the etiquette,

 Angry young face, all came naturally to this family man,

 Persona, was he an enigma to the tinsel world in his outfit.

‘Pappu’ of Odayil ninnu, the father and son of kadalpalam

 A Neelakkuyil master or in Yakshi, as the impotent scientist,

 Doctor in Sarasayya or the fisherman, of Chemmeen fame 

Were a few reminiscences of his prowess in silver screen.

Never a romantic hero, all pivotal roles were in hot pursuit, 

Never ever the ideal matinee idol, the cine goer cherished, 

The rebel in and as the gun that narrated his style so preen, 

Destiny at last designed better roles for him in the heaven.

For oft did I ponder, why such great lives were short lived,

 Fitting the proverb nicely with a tinge of sorrow or gratitude,

 Art is long but the life of the maestro Sathyan all proved, 

 Let me spill a tear or two again, in a solemn poetic tribute.

MAQUILLAGE= MAKE

 

Corruptive explosions and Corrective implosions

[Recent explosion of flats in Noida]

         

                                          Owning a piece of land, that too in a prime location,

                            Amongst the envious eyes around with gumption,

                            Owning a house or flat  there, Oh! a divine assertion,

                            Buildings flouting rules, invited a future demolition.

                            

                           Castling more  occupants, doing in the booming sway,

                           All Rules got  twisted, built castles in air and aplenty,

                           Norms  for “go green” in disguise, fooled  everybody,

                           Years of legal battles ensued ,with a vacillating  way,

 

                          The castles built for comfort and all built with aplomb,

                           A boom of desires fooled  the entire owners to doom,

                          Wiser counsels  prevailed, apex court  sternly inflicts,

                          Demolition, the final word, with immediate effects.

                         

                           Such an event did happen today  in Noida greenery                      

                           Nine years of battle, finally a win against the lobby,

                           Corrupt practices, needed a lengthy judicial explosion

                           Twin  towers, all  dusted in a nine second  implosion.

 WHAT’S BREWING THERE.?

A CUP OF TEA OR A VIGOR OF THEE...

[A tribute to TEA commemorating world TEA day] 

  The second most consumed drink everywhere in entire universe, 

  After water, it thus prompts thought process to write this verse, 

  Oh! A sudden awakening, on this day, the poet getting bemused, 

  Favorite drink of the masses, now getting a recognition dignified.

  Apart from the fixed energy booster, tea serves us much more,

  Has Caffeine, amino acids that boost mental faculties for sure,

  Digging into my reserves, probed the nomenclature and more,

  Indeed it was stunning, the tiny leaves revealing much more.

  Dates back to lengthy thousand years, with a mostly Asian fable,

  The only drink expressed as a letter, ever, than a monosyllable,

  The name has many fathers, Chinese, Cantonese or the Persian, 

  Tee, cha, the chai too unfamiliar, tea or chai, the common Indian. 

  Grown in the hills with acidic soils from the seeds and cutting,

  Dozen years or less to mature, flush is ready for the picking;

  Less oxidized, partially or the fully oxidized, all three differ,

  Wilted, without oxygen forms, in white or yellow, they do appear. 

 

  Green, oxidized partially and stiff, they all occur after the pluck, 

  Flush differs, is the top few centimeters of leaves that we pick,

  Their enzymes all set up the oxidation, turning green to black, 

  Flavors on the rise, so too the antioxidants, favoring a health drink.

 Black dragon Oolong, the fully oxidized form is the pick of the lot,

 From the immortal times, it rejuvenated, mesmerized every spot, 

 Cometh the hour, cometh the man, so too comes the magic pot,

 It comes with pleasure before you, to share its day on the trot.

COMMIT TO QUIT…THIS ROLL OF FIRE

WORLD TOBACCO DAY..A WORTHY DAY TO REMEMBER..

 

 Our Habit seldom dies, even the word, remove the first letter, a bit remains,

Remove the next letter, still a small bit stays, remove the next it remains,

 So habits acquired by pleasure or imbibed by nature , are hard and astray,

 Once deep seated, its hard to dispense with, ruining the mind and the body.

 

 Smoking, the reigning monarch of them, millions in the world under this habit, 

Every five second a smoke related death ,five millions die worldwide in fact,        

A milligram of nicotine absorbed, offers pleasure, ensuring a worst side effect, 

Pursuit of problems oft aplenty years later, all to deal with deleterious effect.

 

Persistent cough, malignancy lung or elsewhere, to mention a few for you.

An old paradigm to remember in sexual disease, here too worthy and true, 

Minutes with nicotine, myriads of neoplasm with their jobs cut out for you,

An uninvited habit, like the word, is ready to see your ashes fall beneath you.

End justifies the means, the world around beset with a pandemic all around,

Succumbing to life style morbidity, easier than have a life healthy and sound, 

When such eagles prowl around the prey, waiting the moment for the attack,  

Its time to relinquish these rolls of fire from our lips to keep on a right track.

 

 

  

  FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

  Value of the eyes, best known, after one loses our sight,

   An old adage, still reigns supreme, a truth in hindsight,

   Like our heart and lungs, works from the day one of life,

   New born relishing from six weeks in the social smile.

   A complex system aids one to see all, till our demise, 

  The colors, the hues, the cones’ domain to be precise,

  Rods serve and save  truly for the darker nightmare,

  The binocular vision, a Blessing, enjoying everywhere.

 This divine gift oft hides the loss of the divinity for many,

 Few failing to note the loss, to quote reasons too many, 

 We have two lenses in each eye, the real one in the rear,                            

 Cornea the resilient, does most of the work in top gear.

 It has added advantages, thus heralding its sovereignty               

 Absence of blood, retaining its clarity heralds the story,

 Yet it suffers the most, oft in every trivial injury for sure,                         

 Corneal scar ruined  the sight most, in the days of yore.

                               

Thus a sight for some, a dead cornea led  from the front, 

 Eyes, the pioneer organs  of all transplantations till date,

Cornea serves the mankind in two ways, albeit after death,                                

Let every cornea live forever, let a dead eye have a rebirth  

 The   Idyllic abyss 

[the grand canyon effect]2018

   Oh! on my maiden trip to America, I was on cloud nine,

   All  I had learnt and heard is from the print and net

   Vast country that proudly claiming many a time zone,

   Initial lessons cast my psyche an everlasting imprint.

 

   One of my sojourn was a trip to the mountain pass,

   Grand Canyon, they told me, I just gave a deaf ear,

   May be my idiocy, I thought its just another to pass ,

   The curtain raiser, the show, that made me peer .

 

   The word meaning told me it’s a deep mountain pass

   Often a river dividing the pass, here it’s the Colarado

   Millions of years of erosive effort to carve an abyss

   History dates back, Colarado carving this ravine too,

 

   Three hundred miles long, a mammoth one, unimaginable 

   All eighteen miles in width, indeed six thousand feet high

   Layers of sedimentary rocks bemusing even the venerable,-

   Geologist’s paradise, a never ending practical precipice,

 

   The Colorado plateau, the conducive winds, river water,

   Collectively reforming a visual breath taking spectacle,

   Lava turning the sediments, metamorphosis within crater,

   The magmas flowing from under the rocks’ receptacle ,

 

  The melt, the minerals and the gases alter the texture,

  Cooled to form  the granites, the limestone phenomenon,

  The proterozoic era, saw the mountain building nature

  Lifting and erosions did the rest, to form a  rare canyon,

 

  Mezozoic era, reigned the canyon area with  dinosaurs

  Lost out  in the cinozoic era when mammals took over

  Volcanic turbulence, the snow cutting and dry weathers  

  Acted to convert  into a breathtaking spectacle forever.

 

 Violent storms and flash floods, fast downcuts in the rocks

  Combined with slow widening, truly natures’ fascination

  Lack of moisture refines the naked rock’s added stocks,

 The red wall lime stones and the sandstone, sans erosion

 

 Chiseling the older crystalline rocks into the  granite rocks, 

 The pleasant bus drives enabling the breath taking delight,

 The enthralling helicopter, the astonishing view in stocks,

 This idyllic abyss, stands apart, beholds one and all in sight.

 

DOCTOR’S DAY..

  A DAY TO REMEMBER AND REVERBERATE FOREVER...

These white coated men held in esteem anywhere, everywhere,

Symbolizes the fruits of years of true sacrifice and perseverance,

Hard earned prefix before thy name conceals the boiled egg within.

Ask every student, their aim, to become a doctor reigns supreme.

 

The path is a hard hill to climb and indeed a hard pill to swallow

Learning process is hard ,obstacles are  many and results risky,

The successful feet has a dozen and more milestones to climb,

Every mile has  roads bumpy, thorns to watch out the next mile,

 

Sleepless nights never reveal all the hours of midnight oils burnt ,

Course itself never stops  there, offers you, only  the knowledge,

To put that into practice at proper time, needs skills and hard work,

Earning a degree is easy, yearning a name is difficult, fame so arduous,

 

Medical schools all built of bricks and concrete , none differ by much,

The pupils bring laurels to the school , glorify them with rich tributes,

Many a school is famous with such names, teachers  gain immortality,

Fazils  had added glory to this institution, we all will have to follow suit.

 Have a worthy DOCTORS’ DAY 2022

 

 

DEATH KNELLS  ARE RINGING....

                                         INFACT... WE AREN’T HEARING

                         Fifteen dozen or more faces in all, our hearts in tremors,

                                        Assembled in unison for a cause, with nobility  in spirits,

                                        Doors dawned for a five year journey yearned by merits,

                                        Hoping to cure sometimes, comfort and console always,

 

                                        Life was arduous, terrains  weren’t rosy to say the least,

                                        Lost already one in our path, a jolt we suffered so early,

                                        Soon reality struck, we aren’t immortals, a truth in brew,

                                        Losses in pursuit, to haunt us often, too good to be true.

 

                                       Impoverished by the numbers, our meets too far and few,

                                       Golden meet is over, thirteen dozens now lurk in the dark,

                                       We all in seventh decades of our life with fading faculties,

                                       Our writings  on the wall, let us  ensemble once annually.

                                       None knows our earthly extent, nor the day of  final bow,

                                       Nor who all, amongst us be the last to sing the swansong,

                                       Lets all gather in the evenings of  life, quite oft than not,

                                       Death knell  do ring constantly,  oft we hear it belatedly.

 

LIVING AROUND CORONA…. 

         LIVING WITH CORONA……

                LEAVING BEHIND CORONA…. 

These three lines  remind me three horrifying years across the world, 

No country escaped its wrath, sweeping frontiers never once before,

The rich and the poor, the capitalist or the  communist saw its sword,

Millions succumbed already, rest  live in fear, awaiting the silent foe.

 

Around the corona, we lived  with prayers in our lips in its maiden year,

The mutant genome showed its ugly face, worsening results in store

Vaccines halted the virus for a while, now a third dose is in top gear,

Masking the face, Yours truly held its spike at bay away from my shore.

 

I lost the race, the mild variant found  out my nostril ,had an easy entry,

All the minimal immunity offered by the triple dose vanished in thin air,

My bloated ego too got a beating, and  my feet back to earth finally.

The Chinese proverb gives me a boost, that sounds just and indeed fair.

 

It all started from Wuhan, all  the unaffected are scoundrel and bossy,

I escaped the wrath and envious public eyes, I am a relieved persona.

I can sit back and relax, forget the D-dimer for a moment and enjoy,

Now the spike is not within me, around me, I can march ahead of corona.

 

EBBS OF THE WOMB

                 Every lazy mind, I presume not always a devil’s workshop,

                                   This famous quote is rewritten, for my cause for sure,

                                   Yours truly was ruminating for some time and in a hop,

                                   A sudden click, yes, the cliché is ready, the title is here.

 

                                   Every man is indebted to a woman, sans an iota of doubt,

                                   Was in the elevator for a while, suddenly the power is gone,

                                   Amidst the darkness, I spotted an Indian lady in her womb,

                                   A fetus in her trimester phase, breathing in a heavy tone,

 

                                   A momentary darkness, Alas! my poetic wings in aplomb.

                                   Darkness, all around the womb, Oh! with an embryo inside,

                                   Common spectacle everywhere in the world, all the same,

                                   I was in America then, her husband, my relative and aid.

 

                                   Confided in secrecy, will have a daughter in a month’s time.

                                   Thoughts went weird , Oh! the women hood brew yet again,

                                   Double x chromosomes  stirring up the ultimate truth,

                                   Men provoke, stir the desires, women carry the burden.

 

                                   Rule of nature!, agreed, the rest is worse and mammoth.

                                   Converse can never be true, even in the word of address,

                                   When man gets away from woman, woes only literally exist,

                                   Such is her mastery over men in word or deed, we can guess

 

                                   Monthly bleeds  horrifying and  many, forget the gestation,

                                   From the menarche to menopause, her body in mutation,

                                   Personnel discomfort, professional nuisance all in emotion,

                                   Relieved when she is carrying, fresh come in slow motion.

 

                                   Amenorrhea helps, hyperemesis lets her inside out in return,

                                   Breaks down oft,  body and mind in a sacrifice, for whom?

                                   Indeed none can answer this query, motherhood  truly divine,

                                   Profitless venture, yet a thankless adventure, all wholesome! 

 

                 A BOOM TO A DOOM

                                                                                  MARADU DISASTER

                        We dream everyday, Oh! topics and places do differ,

                        Home or abroad, king or pauper, all have this offer,

                        High or low, joyous or weirdly, really doesn’t matter

                        Dreams never come true, day or night, never bother.

 

                       Everyone has ambitions, owning a house tops the list,

                       The place of comfort, rural or urban, do matter instead,

                       Money decides the final outcome, to say the least,

                       We save a penny, to achieve this dream in good stead.

             

                        Owning a piece of land, that too in a prime location,

                        Amongst the envious eyes around with gumption,

                        Owning a house there, still more a divine assertion,

                        Buildings  near coasts inviting  a future demolition.

 

                       Such events do occur, Where! in God’s own country,

                       A  state that boasts high literacy rate and tranquility,

                       Yet all the norms set for coastal rise turned astray,

                       Rules got  twisted, built castles in air and aplenty.

 

                       Years of legal battles ensued ,with vacillating  verdicts,

                       Castling more occupants, sales on the boom reflects,

                       Wiser counsels  prevailed, apex court  sternly inflicts,

                       Demolition ,the final word, with immediate effects .

       

                       The castles built for comfort and all built with aplomb,

                       Befitting  and fulfilling the  dreams out of the womb,

                       A boom of desires fooled  the entire owners to doom,

                       High rise Castles in a splint second all ended in a  tomb.

      

 

                           EBBS OF THE WOMB

                 Every lazy mind, I presume not always a devil’s workshop,

                                   This famous quote is rewritten, for my cause for sure,

                                   Yours truly was ruminating for some time and in a hop,

                                   A sudden click, yes, the cliché is ready, the title is here.

 

                                   Every man is indebted to a woman, sans an iota of doubt,

                                   Was in the elevator for a while, suddenly the power is gone,

                                   Amidst the darkness, I spotted an Indian lady in her womb,

                                   A fetus in her trimester phase, breathing in a heavy tone,

 

                                   A momentary darkness, Alas! my poetic wings in aplomb.

                                   Darkness, all around the womb, Oh! with an embryo inside,

                                   Common spectacle everywhere in the world, all the same,

                                   I was in America then, her husband, my relative and aid.

 

                                   Confided in secrecy, will have a daughter in a month’s time.

                                   Thoughts went weird , Oh! the women hood brew yet again,

                                   Double x chromosomes  stirring up the ultimate truth,

                                   Men provoke, stir the desires, women carry the burden.

 

                                   Rule of nature!, agreed, the rest is worse and mammoth.

                                   Converse can never be true, even in the word of address,

                                   When man gets away from woman, woes only literally exist,

                                   Such is her mastery over men in word or deed, we can guess

 

                                   Monthly bleeds  horrifying and  many, forget the gestation,

                                   From the menarche to menopause, her body in mutation,

                                   Personnel discomfort, professional nuisance all in emotion,

                                   Relieved when she is carrying, fresh come in slow motion.

 

                                   Amenorrhea helps, hyperemesis lets her inside out in return,

                                   Breaks down oft,  body and mind in a sacrifice, for whom?

                                   Indeed none can answer this query, motherhood  truly divine,

                                   Profitless venture, yet a thankless adventure, all wholesome!