Thendral

 A mutable refuge shielded one, forsaken another. 

 In the corner of the deep woods of Glen Affric, there stood an oak tree with the name of Ilan. She was splendid and stunning though subtle and stoic. The hustle of Glen somehow kept Ilan covert from the 'Aura'- an animated and agile breeze. Ilan thought the woods were typical up until the onset of spring when Aura passed her path. The breeze acquired an unknowing attachment for the oak tree as it started to observe it every day. Gradually the oak tree also requited adoration to the breeze in the ways she was able to extend. As they got to know one another more, they realized how completely different they were from the other in every aspect. Aside from their differences, the friendship they had developed was what they cherished the most. As the seasons changed in Glen, Aura shifted her course far away from Ilan. She missed Ilan more than words could express, which caused her to ponder on the vivid memories they've shared. Aura loved Ilan for who she was and always found a w...

True to its name, the valley 'Eden' was a paradise that seemed like God was at a juncture of his extraordinary creativity.  The surrealness of the valley with all its lush green meadows stapled by blue skies and cheerful clouds would compel anyone to descend into a journey of soulful bliss. Mischievous little Aaron was no stranger to the valley for his little feet had left no place in that valley which had never been grazed upon or a nook of a valley that has never echoed his piercing giggles. Everything in the valley flipped when Eden turned eerily silent when little Aaron was set to the convent. The dire circumstances for his widowed mother left no choice but to leave Aaron in a convent hostel. Initial days at the hostel were endurable with the solace that the night fetched him in exchange for his tears.  Each passing day and the explicit rules at the convent smeared Aaron into a disciplined and quiet-natured gentleman. As far as the story has reached, our little guy's me...

 Grabbing a coffee, I sat on my couch to watch my favorite show, "cycle around Japan," on NHK World Japan. The episode was phenomenal, and in a few minutes, I went into nostalgic memories of my cycling. I missed every aspect of cycling, right from balancing, racing to the feeling of the wind on my face. I was Seven and in school when I learned cycling from my friends.  In one of my haunting experiences, I hit the bike on a boulder, which had me flying in the air without wings and finally resulting in falling flat on my face. I got a few bruises and a twisted ankle, but that didn't end my learning; it continued whenever I had a cycle.  In '90s, kids owning a bicycle was a luxury, and for many of them, including myself, it was the biggest reward one could potentially ask their parents when they achieve their targets. These targets could always mean ending up performing exceptionally well in academics. As a kid, I did not bother to set bars high but enjoyed little perks ...

  It was Friday the 13th when Jade visited the graveyard, a place of buried secrets and unbroken silence. The zephyr seldom assured a comforting company in her loneliness. However, more often, it was her pulsating heart that vehemently whispered into her ears of fear and anxiousness. It was only a few hours before the anticipating sun could engulf the shallowness of the night. She took a deep breath, swiftly strode to the entomb engraved "Jade." She knelt, gently placed her senseless hands on the grave, and mourned in reticence a final goodbye to her earthly remains. 

You existed in the very thought for every thought I tried to revoke about you.

I  spoke, laughed, and cried in furtive silence. I fought, fled, and froze with numbness. I lose my facade in my abode, Do not inquire me if I'm okay? I lost myself for on whose behalf do I have to articulate? I attempt to respond, but my words speak reticence. I circumvent the circumstantial embarrassment with a walk away — one of the bravest decisions I embraced. You do not perceive me, and I do not blame you, for I do not too. For I'm there, and I'm not, I sense that I don't sense.

I betwixt conquer or defeat, encounter of concealed profound disquiets

      

மனச்சிறை நடமாடும் பிணம் என அலைந்து திரிந்தேன், எதை துலைத்தேன் என விடை தெரியாமல் வாடினேன், வாரம் கடந்து  மாதம் கடந்து வருடம் பிறந்தது, ஆனால், விடை மட்டும் தெரியவில்லை.. என் மனச்சிறையில் நான் ஒரு விடுதலை பெறாதே அகதி, என் எண்ண செங்கல் கொண்டு வலி பூசி நானே கட்டிய சிறை, அதனால் தானோ எனவோ என்னால், தகற்க இயலவில்லை..  

Half of our lives we spend in learning the difference between just and unjust. Another half, we spend in being just to the unjust. We accept and convince others that this is the way to live. This is not called life, but a lie. If education doesn't give the power to change this lie, why to pursue it? Education is power, a power that can change minds and lives of millions. 

It's time for chrysalis, metamorphosis in the process, the emergence of emancipation!

We are the same, you are sensitive to touch and me to hurt. Yet we amend though!

I lost the trail of you from my sight but not from my mind's eye, The view gives me an afflictive pleasure that seeps deep into my heart, Visceral feelings of you makes me frozen, I yearn for your tender touch, a word or merely your presence!  

Warmth in yonder, proximity insouciance yet these juxtapose is what I gravitate to

ஒ ருத்தியின்  தடம் கொண்டு வந்தோம், ஓர் ஆயிரம் தடம் கொண்டுசேர்ந்தோம் ... இவ்விடை தலத்தினில் நாம் விட்டு செல்லும் நம் தடம் என்பது என்ன ? அது மற்றவர் மனதில் நம்மால் தவழ்ந்த உணர்வுகளே !

Nurtured enough, it is time to flail for the fledgling, to sore in the sky so high!

For a redeemer, I yearn for I'm stuck in life's flow with fathomless remnant memories

எத்தனை முறை பிரிவு வந்தாலும் அதன் வலி ஏனோ குறைவதே இல்லை, நான் படித்தும் தேர்வு பெறாத ஒரே  பாடம் இந்த வலி! Translation: No matter how many times I have bid adieu the pain has never subsided. The only subject which I have studied yet never succeeded.

I'm perplexed. Ecstasy escorts this clairvoyance. Pulsating yet stolen. Explanation: I'm in a great wonder, how a thing (heart) which is stolen and still can be present (pulsating)? Happiness accompanies with the very thought that I will be with that person. What an amazing Theft!