Life Of Memories (#photograph #poem)


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My Campaign Against Women Abuse


one print of these photos. . .

hundred xerox copies

campaign in college

~ ~ ~

I want people to look at the posters I am creating and I am thinking of pasting them all over the college. I have already done such a thing during the ‘Babri Masjid verdict’.

There are also a lot of posters already on the web and they need to be seen and understood. So I request you to share some of them on your blogs and social networks because this is high time, women are being subject to ridicule everyday all across the world. And in my country, India, this has gotten beyond insanity! People are coming out and protesting these atrocities against women and that is only a start. So please share or write your own mind on your blogs about these blasphemous incidents.

So here are the posters I did until now: SPEAK OUT. SPEAK LOUD.

April Haiku Month, Day 26: Waterfalls


#2

waterfall beckons . . .

people are convinced it would cleanse them

even if they raped

~ ~ ~

Many of the believers in god blindly believe in things like these, that ‘are said to’cleanse their souls and wipe off all the sins they committed. Many ARE CONVINCED that they become good by taking a holy dip or doing a holy prayer or something. Let me tell you, these people are blind. Blinded by faith in the unknown and unseen, and blinded by lust for the material and mundane. These are the people who have no guilty conscience, or just a little may be. These people go to temples and offer huge amounts of money and gold and BELIEVE that their future is secure and that they have bribed their god enough to let them off any crimes and sins they committed. And god isn’t helping either, because they really seem to be getting away from what they deserve for everything they did. India is the biggest hypocrite on the world map. The world would be half a better place than it is now if these people started believing in undoing their wrongs, not ‘devote’ themselves t0 ‘god’ in reparation.

 

April Haiku Month, Day 20: Rosemary


a five year old girl . . .

cheeks, innocent rosemary pink,

gets raped by neighbor

~ ~ ~

A 5 year old girl was raped in Delhi, India. I don’t have the strength to talk about the incident or the details but if it troubles you, here it is: A brutal and barbarous rape of a 5 year old. But I’d try to make sense nevertheless for I am, as always, not at peace.

The place where it happened is generally not important, because the abuse, assault, exploitation takes the precedence and rightly so. But ‘Delhi’ is the capital. and India is now ‘so much into’ these things that the place of incident is important next only to the victims themselves.
We, I, keep talking about faith and love for a nation all the time, think about it a lot. These are times when it is shaken. Rememeber what I said a few days back about boston bombing? i wantedly did not complete my opinion there, because i couldn’t take it as I was considering what it all meant. But now I see I held back for no reason. It is not only the ‘groups’ who believe in an ideal which are treat to the whole mankind, its f***ing every man in his own damn way!

I talk about faith, trust and love all the time. And these things stand to be important for every citizen of a country. Well, right now, all of that is shaken. It has never been ‘constant’ I must admit. I just tell myself, ‘maybe tomorrow’. But no, maybe I’d die being a fool who kept believing in change that never came.

click it for a better view, the text on the cards is blurred at this resolution.

With what people did after Nirbhaya incident, the protests and the calls for DEATH of the criminals, we have been seeing such things with little or no change in numbers. And consider the fact that all actual incidents of women exploitation don’t come to light, not get the media attention. Consider the suffering that we cannot see, that we cannot relate to because those stories are don’t come up.

India has always been a nation with great prospects for itself. Maybe we will end up only at that much, and never see a nation which changed itself into a true haven for humans. Of course, the world is no safe haven either. But with what India boasts about, we are a let down to ourselves. We are our own demise.

I don’t want people telling me not to lose hope, because you are not in my head and have not seen the world with my f***ing eyes. You only care when things happen.
“People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy” – I quote Batman again. If we are going to need ‘examples’ to make us think in the right way, at the current rate of our progress, the number of examples needed for men to change is equal to the total no. of women in this country, the newborns included.

King, Dove, Friend And Peace – Haiku #33


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.

~ ~ ~

Scene I

~ ~ ~

A Dove flying in some mysterious but beautiful place ( First Person – Dove )

~ ~ ~

O’ mother, thank you,

soothing plains, blissful green woods,

wonderful is world.

~ ~ ~

pristine, agile winds,

lift mine spirits to heavens,

wings hardly matter (for spirit).

~ ~ ~

angelic white, mine

plumage, how many hearts changed,

chose peace over battle?

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

Scene II

~ ~ ~

A cruel king came for hunting Stag ( First Person – King )

~ ~ ~

( Addresses the Stag )

mine aim wavers not,

arrow tip bellows thy end,

royal dish, thine flesh!

~ ~ ~

( Suddenly he sees the dove above )

~ ~ ~

elegant beauty,

she’s mine, on royal platter,

arrow aims high now,

~ ~ ~

( Addresses the Dove now )

~ ~ ~

O’ dove, thee is mine,

die proud as regal king’s food,

death be upon thee!

~ ~ ~

( He leaves the Stag and loosens the arrow at the dove and she is hit )

~ ~ ~

Ha Ha! King I am,

no being eludes arrows,

Dove slayer king, me.

~ ~ ~

Scene III – Act I

~ ~ ~

A man sees the dove being hit by the arrow and runs to the fallen bird ( First Person – Man )

~ ~ ~

O’ mine friend, tell who

hath brought this upon thee –

my sword rages in anger.

~ ~ ~

O’ mine friend, beauty,

leave this world not, breathe please, love,

god needn’t have you.

~ ~ ~

don’t shut eyes;

O’ blind god, why her;

love, love, friend!

~ ~ ~

The Dove speaks to the man  and at the same time,the cruel king reaches a point where he can hear her speak, he stops and listens ( First Person – Dove )

~ ~ ~

O’ kind friend of mine,

thy love for nature pleases

it is time i rest.

~ ~ ~

promise, little one,

that thy sword tastes no blood, to

avenge mine that spilled,

~ ~ ~

shed blood never, Friend,

keep peace, alive or dead; world

needs peace, give it and……………………………

~ ~ ~

( Dove breathes no more )

( King  comes out of the bushes, the friend of Dove speaks )

~ ~ ~

My King,  great hunter,

none can match your skills, no one

in your whole kingdom!

~ ~ ~

My King, what justice,

do you serve, your cruelty

is the crown you wear!

~ ~ ~

Hadst she not asked peace,

(i) shan’t think twice, i’l behead thee,

my foot on thy crown!

~ ~ ~

( The king speaks )

~ ~ ~

O’ grieving friend of  Dove,

i lay down my crown and sword,

i repent mine wrongs

~ ~ ~

O’ trustful friend of Dove,

ascend mine throne, give peace then

kingdom needs her, peace.

~ ~ ~

O’ true friend of Dove,

forgive ,  i will show myself

to no eyes again.

~ ~ ~

( The king goes into the wilderness in repentance and to keep the kingdom running, Dove’s friend ascends the throne.

He speaks : )

~ ~ ~

every battle now,

that we shall be part, be for

peace, not blood or pride .

~ ~ ~

every battalion,

shall bear white flag, symbol peace,

remembering dove.

~ ~ ~


Tweet me at @sankarajayanth

I don’t know why, when i saw the prompt the first thing to come to mind was “alive or dead, peace.”.
maybe due the ever eluding peace, for which runs a daily quest for me and that my tired mind and soul longs for a piece of it.
And peace = dove, as many things i relate to nature. And i thought of presenting it this way.

And later when i was half way through, i remembered a childhood story : hunter kills a pigeon but the pigeon’s wife gives shelter to hunter,
to satisfy and do justice to the dharma of comforting the guests, she jumps into flames to become the food for the guest.
My story, i think, was almost the same. So, i thank that childhood story and whoever wrote it.


Suggestions and corrections are most welcome, I’m still learning Haiku.

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being ‘alive’.


Arms Of Forgiveness – Haiku #20


you are in for a long set of haiku ( abberated ones ), have patience if you can manage. 🙂

.

.

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, is written

mine exile,  hidden

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, a thriving man,

who hurt thee in past

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, a broken man,

who hurt thee, never

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, thine virtue 

hath me breathing hard, why blind,

what sin i doth thus?

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, thine virtue,

forgiveness, hadst me exiled,

someone else got closer.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, speak ‘least now,

i question not in arrogance,

what sin i doth thus?

~ ~ ~

if to -try to ebb

thine pains served by life- is to

sin, then i did sin.

~ ~ ~

if to -hide my name,

in humility- is to

sin, then i did sin.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, what hadst i

done, that hath me pushed into

this vile emptiness.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in angst, i,

ask thee to see, difference,

in love and true love.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, is written

mine exile,  hidden.

~ ~ ~

archaic (old English) words :

hath = has

hast = have

hadst = had

thy / thine = your

thou / thee = you

doth = do / does

~ ~ ~

i started writing it as a haiku,

but the inner feelings caught me in a grip and dictated me to write this, even if there were abberations from the rules of haiku

~ ~ ~

one thing i want to tell not in haiku :

forgiveness is a great virtue,

a very great one indeed,

but in excess of it,

shall, many a time,

sinners thrive,

while all along, good ones get the woeful plate of plight.

how strange.

how harsh.

how forgiving ( yes, sarcastic in deed ).

~ ~ ~

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being “forgive”.

Hurt Her Not – Haiku #18


forgive : i feel it is a tough word in general and a tough word for a haiku too.

so here’s my try :

” thou hast my lady,

hurt her not, forgive she may,

as lost love, i won’t “

~ ~ ~

i donno if people can get what i tried to tell, i would just say that this haiku’s fictional context is

” my love is with an other man, her only man (she never was mine, in fact), but i still love her, for eternity.

and i warn ( not in grudge, but in a concerned urge, for my lady) him, as she chose him, above me,

i warn him not to disappoint her or hurt her because i wouldn’t if i was him.

O’ love,

lost love.”

~ ~ ~

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being “forgive”.

And They Were Laughing Insensitively


I was on my college bus today when I heard a loud thud. I turned my head and looked at a 18-year old thumping his feet on the floor of the bus. He seemed upset. And angry. And sad. And tortured.

Two guys in the front seat were facing that guy and saying, “it’s okay. don’t get angry. it was for fun”.

I didn’t understand what was happening. And then the guy next to him told, “Those two guys were mocking his stuttering voice”.

Seriously, that guy was in tears. He has a stuttering voice, for heaven knows god is kind(sarcasm? yes).

I let out a deep sigh.

It was one thing to tease people about stupid stuff that they did. And it is another thing to mock and tease someone who is specially-abled. That too mocking that very thing that makes them special? Sick, insensitive and (almost) soulless.

I was angry. I will not add an adjective to let you understand how angry I am at those guys, because there simply is no such word I know of that could quantify my anger.

And I stared at them. I was sitting in the adjacent section of seats on the left, they were laughing.

Laughing. How insensitive one must be to mock someone like that and yet not feel one bit of guilt or remorse, not even when their mockery made an 18 year old boy cry.

I was sad too. It made me sad to think of how people like them continue to trample people emotionally as if it was their daddys’ job to tease, mock they inherited.

I let out a deep sigh again.

I told myself that I wouldn’t let my anger show. That I wouldn’t let my anger make me go shout in their faces that they must reconsider their way of living before growing up in size and masculinity. I remember how I loathed the same two guys a few weeks back when I had to sit next to them on the bus. They were talking crap about women and sex, girlfriends and groping. For all you need to know about me, I am a feminist. Now think what I would have gone through hearing that stuff. I wanted to bang their faces on rock.

But I stayed put. I gulped down everything because no one(family) wants me to get into fights, more so when the enemy is bad. And I am hardly the violent type. I am skinny, tall and unpleasantly always angry, thanks to people like these two guys that I easily spot in every corner of the world I live-in daily. I don’t know what my well wishers assume when they draw lines before me, stopping me from raising my voice against the bad. What it does though is I have to deal with more anger than there already is, that I am not allowed to try to right the wrong. But yeah, I understand their concerns too but nevertheless, I think I must be free to tell someone that he is hurting the world and that he needs to stop.

Anyway, I let go off everything and got down the bus at my place. The fact that this guy who was teased stopped crying and let out an angry growl. That convinced me that he would stay strong through this little but unacceptable ordeal.

I was happy, but not at peace.

None at all.

She Sells Shells – Haiku #24


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.

dreams big and hopes high,

she sells sea shells on seashore,

buy one, help her smile

~ ~ ~

a haiku inspired by the famous tongue twister “she sells sea shells on the sea shore”

can’t get it right once, not once 😀 :O

~ ~ ~

Suggestions and corrections are most welcome, I’m still learning Haiku. :)

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being ‘seashore’.

Silence Is Not Trivial


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everyday i put others before me,
tiring, enduring, all in silence and always trying not to show the weariness on my face,

sometimes it is too much,
breaking point is reached, and i break,

you see me break and you loath me for not standing strong for you,
that hurts,

though in humility i live, i hoped you would understand my silence one notch more,
so that you give me enough time to get back to the routine- everyday i put others before me, tiring, enduring, all in silence and always trying not to show the weariness on my face

– before judging me as too weak to stand for you,

silence doesn’t mean i don’t love. it means i love so much that i prefer to hurt myself being silent than hurt others by talking.
silence doesn’t mean i am not happy. it is my way of saying “i am happy for you. and i indeed am smiling. more on the inside.”
silence doesn’t mean i am not angry. it means i fight my anger in my own self.
silence doesn’t mean i am not in pain. i can wail and grieve over my wounds out loud, but i din’t choose it.
silence. it tells what many words can never ever explain.

i hoped you’d try to understand my silence one more notch.

~ ~ ~

yes, silence sometimes hurts.

but counting the number of times it takes the hurt unto itself, i think you could ease the rope around my neck.

and it hurts to know that my silence hurts you,

but i always am silent for a wiser reason. because i put others before myself.

just when i see myself grow wise, noticeably,

situations close in on, pushing me into ‘regret’.

wish i stayed less wise.

i do not know if i would say that tomorrow, but right now, i really wish i was less wise and more fool.

~ ~ ~

Silence is my language and will always be.

I don’t have the strength to talk and say things. So, i, for you, wish some freak accident befalls me and changes me into that,
Into what ever you wanted me to be.

~ ~ ~

A part of one’s wisdom lies in understanding the silence.
There are always silent “hellos” and silent “goodbyes”.

A new born baby wont understand our blah blah, smile at him and he knows we are saying “hello”.
A friend blinks, empty eyes, sober face and then turns away. It tells you he/she has to leave though she doesn’t want to.

If one cannot decipher these, we would always end up misjudging the other one.

And there is so much of true and pure love in these little, silent moments,
where tears, smiles, empty eyes, all in silence, speak of love. true and pure.

~ ~ ~

I am a teenager.
People have a basic image of an average teenager.
I am not even close to it.
The time i spend in silence itself shows why.

~ ~ ~

why would someone so young rut so much over something that is so ‘trivial’ for the world.
don’t make me feel worse by saying, “because he is insane”.

~ ~ ~

One thing i can tell, everywhere in this post where ever i used an ‘i’, there could easily be a ‘you’ there.
because everyone experiences time where they cannot speak because of the multitude of high emotions running inside,
but it happens more often with me.
and i can hardly help myself.

~ ~ ~

Life And Wheels Moved On – Haiku #45


This post is submitted at Haiku Heights. The prompt is ‘mask’.

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you see me not love (dear);
help comes; heals wounds; i wear mask
named humility.

~ ~ ~

far away you went;
still wondering who it was;
life and wheels moved on.

~ ~ ~

distance grew much now;
same humility hinders;
from seeking your love.

~ ~ ~

love is not to ask;
but to give away; like blood,
from mother to child.

~ ~ ~

hope filled eyes; i wait;
will your ever see through the mask;
forces act against.

~ ~ ~
( The below is the text from which i framed the haiku. I couldn’t put in everything in Haiku. So, read on if you like to. It’s long though, don’t say i din’t warn you. )

while he dared, i cared.

expressing all is never always right,
it only takes boldness.

to hold back expressions take a lot more,
of love, faith and hope;
in truth, it takes a herculean boldness, more than what it takes to express,
but none sees it, just because there was an absence of my expression,

so, if boldness weighs more than love, care, faith and hope,
then yes, i was a loser right from the first moment,
the moment when i chose to hold back,
knowing too well what it takes and what it gives me.

one day hardly goes by,
with this question not torturing my mind,
“don’t you see this yet?”,
yet and again, i hold back from asking this loud.

why, ask me “why?”,
i might just yet stay mum, for the answer i have for you will stump you.
so, instead i choose to see you hurt because of my silence, than because of my answer,
i choose to see you hurt less while i still have the option.

but as no question should go unanswered,
i would give you these words,

“let your heart be honest with your eyes and with itself”

now go,
the journey is yours to travel,
the answers are your to unravel.

the journey would still end at where i am,
the answers still leave a part of the question untouched,
“why did you stay silent when you had so much love?”,

that, my love, shall be answered after you complete the journey,
the reason for making you search for the answer yourself is to prepare you,
for the eventual leash of my held back love.

a little apprehension lingers deep down though,
time is a thin thread, that i am playing by,
i fear i might not radiate and transfer enough reason into you so that you don’t give up on the journey that i put you to,
i fear, time might crop doubts in your head,
and if you submit to them, you would be convinced that i was a fool,
and you would distance yourself from me.

but doesn’t truth always win, as told by the meandering bards,
that’s one gamble i took.

now we go to where this started,
what it took to take this gamble, that might leave me with nothing if it went wrong.

my love,

expressing all is never always right,
it only takes boldness.

to hold back expressions take a lot more,
of love, faith and hope;
in truth, it takes a herculean boldness, more than what it takes to express.

Oh wait,
didn’t i tell you that i would go along with you through the journey, masked in a cloak of invisibility?
oh sure i din’t, because the quest for truth is one you should not skip,
though i knew it would impress you if i told i was coming along,
and it would raise my stature up a notch at your heart,
but i choose to hide my presence and lose a chance to have you love me.
but this journey is not about me, this is about you,
and that along with my enormous care is reason enough for me to wear the cloak of invisibility, in humility,
and walk along.

Oh darn!
while he dared, i cared.

that’s all i need you to see.
that’s all i need you to learn.

~ ~ ~

“Alexander, The Great” is a lie!


Some dear software installations force a shut down of the entire PC. Ah! Things like that happen in life too. Maybe thats the thing about life, we must be patient enough for something that we hope will happen. And if it doesn’t, we must be patient enough to restart it all.

P.S: But that’s without considering the ‘strength’. a PC has an uninterrupted damned power supply, where as us? after all, not all can restart. An please, Alexander the great showed his patience in conquering (through killing) which I have no respect for. So that’s not patience, that was lust. And the whole spider inspiration? a lie. a lie because a lesson of patience was related to a blood-bath by the historians, which i deeply regret and revolt against. There are other less violent lessons out there which teach us more about patience and perseverance. I did not mean to offend anyone’s believes and if I did, my apologies.

What Are They Called, Good Old Times? (Poetry)


what are they called, good old times? or what!

what is this feeling of yearn for those times to be back called, love? or death!

~ ~ ~

why have the tides been so harsh, forcing us to wave goodbyes, what is it called, world’s hate? or our fate!

why has the autumn been so kind, not taking us with the fallen leaves; leaving us with hurting hope, what is this called, a ill curse? or a patience-testing boon!

~ ~ ~

why has the wind taken side of the foul mouths, when the air around us is purged with pure feelings for one another; what is this called, unfair? or who-cares-about-the-true-ones!

and why does this world act as if it owns my heart and mind, asking for attention to routines all the time, trying to kill my memories of you; what is this called, healing? or murdering!

~ ~ ~

what are they called, good old times? or what!

what is this feeling of yearn for those times to be back called, love? or death!

~ ~ ~

the other POV is considering “WE” as “the present you” and “the childhood you(innocent)”. read again.

 

Rhyming Dreams And Dreads


here or there,

no matter where,

there is always something,

rhyming in my head,

and i am glad,

that i can preserve and share.

 

one-two lines,

elate,

emotions intertwined,

tickle and radiate,

colors and shadows,

dimensions, not cared.

chirrups in yonder,

erase world’s distracting buzz,

ah, there! solace.

 

only back home,

do i find inspiration,

and nowhere else,

home,

for me,

is,

closest to nature.

 

i rhyme,

i write,

i go on,

with my dreams,

and dreads,

but,

in rhymes,

and

in them,

lengthy ones,

one as this.

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Tweet me at @sankarajayanth.

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