The Breakdown of Language

the meaninglessness of each word

the creating and the collapsing

the cries of the brain

burning to ashes

the incomprehensibility

of everyone

the human as animal

the teeth as fangs

phrases as illnesses

life as bother

truth beaten to a pulp

people eaten as bulbs

arrival of the throat

cutting pages up

setting fire

to everything

in sight.

So Shitty

the world can seem

in a moment

like all human rage

and violence

were directed

against you

slowly vapourising

your body

your mind

rags of language 

are of no use

when everyone

looks strangely

at you

as though you

were some

mythical creature

come to existence

to fade away

only you know

the pain

only you know

how it feels

to lose your life

because it is yours

and no one else’s

only you know

these evil people

their network

how they work

trying to kill you

and you die

fighting them

now with your

near invisible fists

throwing punch

after punch

at this

multitudinous

devil.

There Are Humans Who are Demons

and there is hatred

in them

which they spew

on others like venom

these serpents

will kill you

because of

your religion

for the language

you speak

or your caste

or race

and class

and you might

find yourself

being battered

by someone

you think

is your own brother

your own sister

and you will feel

such sadness

at this evil

you will weep

your sobs shaking

your broken body

being beaten

till you die.

The Forest Sings

and I close my eyes

and listen to the music

my heart beats

in rhythm to it

and I begin to dance

my body my feet

moving like magic

and the little girl

next door is also

enchanted by the song

suddenly she is speaking

some language of her own

in a sweet and happy trance

and now it seems like the world

has taken wing

and we are ecstatic

this has never happened before

life is giving us so much more

bowing and opening the door

where transcending bliss oozes

from our every pore.

The Baby

next door

is such entertainment

in the neighbourhood

abey abey abey she goes

happily gurgling

speaking her own language

in her own world

and then she speaks

sentences in Tamil

and cries easily

and right now

she is saying

meh meh and

bursts out laughing

and the birds chirp

and the baby is speaking again

vooooooooooooouuuuutaaaaooo

she says and the world sways

and there she goes again

speaking in Tamil and waaaaaaaahhhh

she says and she is so much fun

this morning and the sun blasts

the world golden and her joy

she howls in happiness

and her voice is honey

and the singing birds

carry a rainbow

and garland me with it

and then there is silence

in which I disappear.

Sun Says

hello hello

look at this new greengold world

isn’t it beautiful

aren’t you happy to be alive

and I reply

of course

there is magic in these mountains

inside them are the children of joy

our children who will sail the oceans

and travel through space like us

and how we fly like the birds

who are kin to us in body

and beauty and song

and how they navigate the air

like children at play

and I remember

myself running as a boy

and speaking to the stars

in our special silver language

and I felt the happiness

of the moon smiling

how she showered me

with motherly affection

and the old streets

were full of people and feeling

and our hearts and minds soaked

in the sublime golden sunset

and we knew what it was

to be human and beyond that

that was the reassurance

the sky gave us

that was what

it told us we were made for

so I looked at the buildings

down the years and saw

they had grown old

with the responsibilities

of parents withered

still they looked on smiling

at their children

marching down the skies

on and on

and we were airborne

our hearts were aloft

and laughing at the world

we were now flying

in and out of

hysterically roaring at

the comedy of it all

we fell into each other’s arms

and the seas sang

and we were picked up and kissed

by the sun

with love.

Two Pink Roses

so pretty have bloomed

on my rose plant

three small birds fly

and perch on a tree

and in the morning

it rained quite heavily

here in Kumily

while now the sun shines

and one part of the sky behind me

is so blue I can’t tell you

how beautiful it is

you have to see it

and the Periyar Tiger Reserve

is there behind the trees

its oddly protruding brown mountaintop

visible through the leaves

and the birds chirp

and the cock crows and the sunlight

is now dancing in happiness

in the silence that is caressing

your mind and that is what gives

the green mountains here

that appearance of weightlessness

and the birds continue

to remind you of it

and your heart is filled

with that knowledge

and brimming over in joy

the sun is now honey

and you wish you had

some bread to eat it with

and then you see the world

is your lover to sleep with

and then everything

suddenly makes sense

the language of the birds

is written on your tongue

and the air contains life

free for everyone

and it is magic that we are made of

is what it whispers

and the more you breathe

as the moments pass

you understand everything

every beat of your heart

every moment of the mind

you have lived

you hold in your hands

feeling their weight

before you finally set them free.

When You See

the heaviness

the dullness

dropping dead

in you

the silence of the mind

is a kind of thought

a feeling

a poem whose

words are

looking for you

and finding

you somewhere else

closed in some

unhappy form

sinks further in blue

calling this quietness

your music

and finding how

this broken emptiness

can give shelter

calls it home.

Words

I imagine

what they

look like

in my mind

are they red black

is my mind

is it wet

is it like a mouth

words are all

I have

I tell myself

in my cave

I pave

my way out

with words

in the morning

I sing with the birds

so musical

in the sky

and with the clouds

I fly

to this

quiet place

where there

is no sound

and the world

looks so round

so beautiful

so delightful

so full

of enchantment

words make me forget

this life on rent.

 

The above poem is from my third book The Branches (2015).