Frowning Upon Time.

     Frowning Upon Time.

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Time has made my body a battered road,

Travelling on it like a tanker,

Too fast, with a load, rather too heavy.

People call it ageing, my wrinkles and my broken teeth.

I have not lived fast; but years have fled ,

Like rattlesnakes chasing rabbits.

Today, Time stands witness to my growing plight,

Recalling past events  as excesses, not being bright.

My childhood days remain hidden from my purview,
Because taboos disposed by childhood dreams into a trashcan.

My adolescence accounts for negligible anecdotes.

The college days passed by, in foolish faith

In friends, whom I remember more than myself.

Those guys did not allow me, to assess time,

For a schedule of my own activities.

Society is always in a spirit of robbing

Others’ time, for accomplishing its own agenda.

Fears heckled me like reptiles wriggling into rat holes.

Looking back now, it is all a collateral damage

That time has done to me, in a co- travelling course.

The scars of pimples that pirated my pink of youth,

The shrinking skin and the sinking cheeks,

Are nothing but the scores of the subway strategies of Time.

The rest of my life now, looks like a wallet with little cash,

That someone keeps feeling through the fingers,

While travelling in a crowded lane,ruled by pickpockets.

Getting old is nothing but struggling to push out

One’s head and hand, as a last ditch effort,to survive

While sinking down helplessly, in the quicksands of time.

                                                                    P.Chandrasekaran.

    

Wafer Biscuit Thoughts.

Wafer Biscuit Thoughts.

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Learn to disown memories,

They are troublesome and tormenting;

Tear them to pieces, not to be pasted again.

Throw them into the trash bin.

Life’s death traps are many.

Let not memories become one.

Unwanted past, always remains a quicksand;

A tsunami- in- waiting, to make tomorrow, clueless.

Muddy memories make movement of the brain, arduous,

Paving way for palsy, knocking at your doors.

Scavenge them with a sanitized profile.

Periodical fresh painting keeps one abreast.

Painting in new colors, could transform ghettos into palaces.

Mortgaging sleep, for digging old thoughts,

Would not make one a missionary or a messiah.

Watch the slogans of the new generation,

Marching with placards ‘’Lead ! but not load.’’

To feel easy is not to think hard.

The running stream will take you ahead.

When memories have gone into chips and drives,

Why bother the brain with a carry -on baggage?

Learn the wiser ways to sail without sinking.

Wafer biscuit thoughts will dissolve in Time’s beverage,

Without a trace of their existence turning into memories.

Buy them in plenty, to keep munching without strain.

Besides, a good night’s sleep is the bonus that you gain.

                                                                P.Chandrasekaran.

The Fragile Rainbow.

               

            The Fragile Rainbow.

The thick black clouds threatened a downpour.

The rocking thunder stood by the dark clouds.

The wild winds wore a foul look, blowing

As if to settle scores with the clouds,

For a previous,pointless enmity.

People were eagerly awaiting,

The fall of sure, summer torrents.

The weather reports had confirmed it too.

But the wind- shattered, dissipated dark clouds,

Ran rattled,as if shifting to safer hideouts,

Getting weakened, at every phase of their transit.

In between ,there appeared, the evening Sun,

Amidst showers, light and warm, all clicking

To display, the emergence of a ritzy rainbow.

The rainbow alliance of colors in the sky,

That lasted for a short while, like the dark clouds,

Made a fair show,only to beautifully betray,

The defeat of a concrete,collective mission,

Buried, beneath the colors of a fragile union.

                                                       P.Chandrasekaran.