Thursday, December 21, 2006

துரோகம்

அகால வேளையின்
நம்பிக்கை திரை கிழித்துக்கொண்டு
ஒரு பொய் பிறக்கிறது
பின் மற்றொன்று
மற்றுமொன்று
பிணவறையின் சவங்களாய்
வரிசையாய் பொய்கள்
குளிர்ந்து
விறைத்து
உணர்வற்று...
சரி நம்புகிறேன்.
இப்பொழுது தள்ளி படு.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

சுயம்

தேவையற்ற கணங்களில்
என் தாய்மை விழித்துக்கொள்கிறது
தலை கோதி முகம் தடவி
தொடை சாய்த்து சேர்த்தணைத்து
வேர்களுக்கெல்லாம் நீரூற்றினாலும்
பூ பறிக்கையில் சிறிது சதையும்
வழித்துக்கொண்டு வருகிறது
தெரிந்தே தொடரும்
பகிர்தலுக்கான ஆயத்தங்கள்
முழுதாய் நனைக்காத மழையின் குழைவில்
பெரிதாய் ஈர்ப்பில்லை
கேட்டவுடன் களைய துளியும் ஆர்வமில்லை
என் குழந்தை கிடைக்காதென அறிந்தும்
பிசுபிசுத்த கைகளை கழுவவில்லை
எனக்கு தெரியும்
இப்பொழுதொன்றும் அவசரமேயில்லை
உலகில் மிஞ்சிய கடைசி ஆணும்
வற்றும் கடலின் கடைசி தவலை நீரும்
தனக்காய் பறிக்கையில்
தாயுள்ளமாவது மண்ணாவது.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

வழியும் வெறுமைகள்

சுடுமணற்பாலையில்
வானம் பார்த்து படுத்திருக்கிறேன்
சீரான புற்பரப்பை விடவும்
பூக்கள் நிறைந்த வனங்களை விடவும்
நிரந்தரமானவை பாலைகள்
விரல் வழி வெம்மை உணர்ந்தபடி
கரிப்பேறிய கோடுகளோடு பயணிக்கிறேன்
தோல் வெடித்து
கசியத்துவங்கிய ரத்தத்தின் நெடி
வெளியெங்கும் பரவிக்கொண்டிருக்கிறது
திசைகளற்ற மணற்பரப்பில்
திசைத்திருப்ப ஒன்றுமில்லை.
நிகழவே இயலாத ஏதோ ஒன்றுக்காய்
நொடிகளை நிறுத்தி காத்திருக்கிறேன்
மேடுகள் அழிந்து மேடுகள் உருவானபடி இருக்க
நீ வரவேயில்லை
இதயங்களின் கதகதப்பில் அடைகாக்கபடும்
என் கவிதைகளின் முதல் வாசகனுக்கு
என்னை எப்போதும் புரியபோவதில்லை

Friday, November 17, 2006

கோள்களின் நிழல்கள்

நினைவிருக்கிறதா உனக்கு?

பின்னோக்கிய யுகங்களின்
ஒரு பிரபஞ்ச வெளியில்
நம் முதல் சந்திப்பை

கிரகங்களின் இடுக்குகளில் அமர்ந்து
நூற்றாண்டுகளாய் தொடர்ந்த பேச்சுக்களை
இரண்டாவது பால் வீதி முனையின்
விருப்பமில்லா விடைபெறுதல்களை

தேகங்கள் மாறி மாறி நுழைந்தும்
சலிக்காத கண்ணாமூச்சிகளை
பிறந்ததுமே தேடத் துவங்குகிறேன்
உன்னை ஒவ்வொரு முறையும். இம்முறையும்.

ஜனனங்கள் பலவாகி ரேகைகள் மாறினும்
இப்பொழுதும் அடயாளத்திற்க்கு உதவும்
உன்னுள் படிந்த என் மோகங்களும்
என்னுள் பரவிய உன் வெட்கங்களும்

-அனிதா

நன்றி : ஆனந்த விகடன்

Thursday, November 16, 2006

சுழற்சி...

இது நிகழாதிருக்க வேண்டும்
இம்முறையாவது.
அங்குலம் அங்குலமாய் வெப்பம் பரவி
தீ கனன்று அனல் துவங்கும்
ஐந்து விரல் அனிச்சயாய் மடங்கி
ரேகைக்குள் குழி பறிக்கும்
மரங்கள் மெலிந்து கொடிகளாகி
கொடிகள் வளைந்து நாணலாகும்
வீடு அதிர்ந்து அதிர்ந்து அடங்கும்
தூண்கள் வலுவின்றி சரியத் துவங்கும்
முற்றத்து துளசி மாடம்
சமயம் பார்த்து ஓடி ஒளியும்
எனினும் வீடும் அழியபோவதில்லை
காடும் கருகபோவதில்லை
யாரையும் ஈர்க்கவில்லை எந்த ஒரு நிகழ்வும்
பேருந்து நெரிசலின் சலனம் தாண்டி
சன்னமாய் உதிர்கின்றன
ஒரு குழந்தைக்கான ஆயத்தங்கள்

-அனிதா

Friday, November 10, 2006

காட்டுக்கு சொந்தக்காரன்

உதிரும் இலைகள் ஒவ்வொன்றாய் எடுத்து
மீண்டும் மரத்தில் பதித்தாய்
உன் விரல்பட்ட சருகுகள்
பச்சை நிறமாயின
பழுப்படைந்த இரகுகளின் வண்ண சலிப்பை
பூக்கள் பிழிந்து நிறம் மாற்றினாய்
காடறுக்க வந்தவனை
மலரதிராது சவமாக்கினாய்
மலையேறி குழி இறங்கி
மூளை மங்க உணவு பரிமாறினாய்
நாசிக்குள் பனி உரிந்தபடி
உள்ளங்கை வெப்பம் உணர்த்தினாய்

இன்னும்
குகை புகும் ரயிலின் வெளிச்சமாய்...
விரைத்த விரல்களினூடே
ஒழுகும் நினைவுகளாய்
முறிக்கும் சோம்பலில் நிறைந்த திமிராய்
என்னன்னவாயோ நீ இருக்கிறாய்

இருந்தும்
சருகுகள் சருகுகளாயும்
மங்கிய சிறகுகள் மங்கியவையாவும்
செரிக்கின்ற மெல்லுணவும்
எனக்குப் பிடிக்கும்

நினைவில் கொள்
நான் ஒருபோதும் எழுதபோவதில்லை
உனக்கான கவிதைகளை.

-அனிதா

Friday, November 03, 2006

வறண்ட பகல்களும் உறைந்த இரவுகளும்

கதவும் ஜன்னலும் மூடியே கிடக்கும்.
பழகிவிட்ட இருளில்
சுவர் மூலைகளின்
ஒட்டடை எடுக்கிறேன்
கால்களின் கீழே
அலை இழுக்கும் மணலாய்
உயிர் குறுகுறுக்கும்
தேனீர் அருந்தி நினைவு கலைக்கிறேன்
வெளிச்சமும் நிறங்களும்
மூளைக்குள் வேர் விட்டுப் படரும்
சிதறிய எண்ணங்கள் சேர்க்கச் சேர்க்க சிதறும்
காத்திருக்கும் காகங்கள்
மோகத்தோடே அலறும்
வியர்வை கசகசப்பும்
பழகமறுக்கும் தனிமையும்
மரபு மீறியும் சாவி தேடும்.
வெளியேற மறுக்க வலிமை சேர்க்கிறேன்
உனக்காய் என்னுள் குறுகிக் கிடக்கிறேன்
இன்றொரு பொழுது இனிதே கழிந்தது
இனி நாளையும்...

-அனிதா

Monday, October 09, 2006

தீங்கு

குரங்கொன்று ஒரு நாள்
கூரைமேல் குதித்தது
அங்கிருந்து வேப்பம்மரமேறி
தண்ணீர்த் தொட்டிக்குள் இறங்கி
வீட்டிற்குள்ளும் வந்தாயிற்று
என் பங்கு சோறு உண்டு
காது வரை போர்வையிழுத்து
கதகதப்பாய் உறங்கும்
இப்பொழுது இருதயம் கிழித்து
கறி தின்கிறது
வலிக்கும் என்றறியாததாய் நடித்தபடி

-அனிதா

Thursday, August 10, 2006

The Telephone call...



This was the short story(!) i read sometime back... By Dorothy Parker... Couldnt resist putting it here... its sucha difficult thing to capture the thoughts... and putting that down on paper... awesome... check this out!!!

The Telephone call... By Dorothy Parker...


PLEASE, God, let him telephone me now. Dear God, let him call me now. I won't ask anything else of You, truly I won't. It isn't very much to ask. It would be so little to You, God, such a little, little thing. Only let him telephone now. Please, God. Please, please, please.

If I didn't think about it, maybe the telephone might ring. Sometimes it does that. If I could think of something else. If I could think of something else. Knobby if I counted five hundred by fives, it might ring by that time. I'll count slowly. I won't cheat. And if it rings when I get to three hundred, I won't stop; I won't answer it until I get to five hundred. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty.... Oh, please ring. Please.

This is the last time I'll look at the clock. I will not look at it again. It's ten minutes past seven. He said he would telephone at five o'clock. "I'll call you at five, darling." I think that's where he said "darling." I'm almost sure he said it there. I know he called me "darling" twice, and the other time was when he said good-by. "Good-by, darling." He was busy, and he can't say much in the office, but he called me "darling" twice. He couldn't have minded my calling him up. I know you shouldn't keep telephoning them--I know they don't like that. When you do that they know you are thinking about them and wanting them, and that makes them hate you. But I hadn't talked to him in three days-not in three days. And all I did was ask him how he was; it was just the way anybody might have called him up. He couldn't have minded that. He couldn't have thought I was bothering him. "No, of course you're not," he said. And he said he'd telephone me. He didn't have to say that. I didn't ask him to, truly I didn't. I'm sure I didn't. I don't think he would say he'd telephone me, and then just never do it. Please don't let him do that, God. Please don't.

"I'll call you at five, darling." "Good-by, darling.,' He was busy, and he was in a hurry, and there were people around him, but he called me "darling" twice. That's mine, that's mine. I have that, even if I never see him again. Oh, but that's so little. That isn't enough. Nothing's enough, if I never see him again. Please let me see him again, God. Please, I want him so much. I want him so much. I'll be good, God. I will try to be better, I will, If you will let me see him again. If You will let him telephone me. Oh, let him telephone me now.

Ah, don't let my prayer seem too little to You, God. You sit up there, so white and old, with all the angels about You and the stars slipping by. And I come to You with a prayer about a telephone call. Ah, don't laugh, God. You see, You don't know how it feels. You're so safe, there on Your throne, with the blue swirling under You. Nothing can touch You; no one can twist Your heart in his hands. This is suffering, God, this is bad, bad suffering. Won't You help me? For Your Son's sake, help me. You said You would do whatever was asked of You in His name. Oh, God, in the name of Thine only beloved Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord, let him telephone me now.

I must stop this. I mustn't be this way. Look. Suppose a young man says he'll call a girl up, and then something happens, and he doesn't. That isn't so terrible, is it? Why, it's gong on all over the world, right this minute. Oh, what do I care what's going on all over the world? Why can't that telephone ring? Why can't it, why can't it? Couldn't you ring? Ah, please, couldn't you? You damned, ugly, shiny thing. It would hurt you to ring, wouldn't it? Oh, that would hurt you. Damn you, I'll pull your filthy roots out of the wall, I'll smash your smug black face in little bits. Damn you to hell.

No, no, no. I must stop. I must think about something else. This is what I'll do. I'll put the clock in the other room. Then I can't look at it. If I do have to look at it, then I'll have to walk into the bedroom, and that will be something to do. Maybe, before I look at it again, he will call me. I'll be so sweet to him, if he calls me. If he says he can't see me tonight, I'll say, "Why, that's all right, dear. Why, of course it's all right." I'll be the way I was when I first met him. Then maybe he'll like me again. I was always sweet, at first. Oh, it's so easy to be sweet to people before you love them.

I think he must still like me a little. He couldn't have called me "darling" twice today, if he didn't still like me a little. It isn't all gone, if he still likes me a little; even if it's only a little, little bit. You see, God, if You would just let him telephone me, I wouldn't have to ask You anything more. I would be sweet to him, I would be gay, I would be just the way I used to be, and then he would love me again. And then I would never have to ask You for anything more. Don't You see, God? So won't You please let him telephone me? Won't You please, please, please?

Are You punishing me, God, because I've been bad? Are You angry with me because I did that? Oh, but, God, there are so many bad people --You could not be hard only to me. And it wasn't very bad; it couldn't have been bad. We didn't hurt anybody, God. Things are only bad when they hurt people. We didn't hurt one single soul; You know that. You know it wasn't bad, don't You, God? So won't You let him telephone me now?

If he doesn't telephone me, I'll know God is angry with me. I'll count five hundred by fives, and if he hasn't called me then, I will know God isn't going to help me, ever again. That will be the sign. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty, fifty-five. . . It was bad. I knew it was bad. All right, God, send me to hell. You think You're frightening me with Your hell, don't You? You think. Your hell is worse than mine.

I mustn't. I mustn't do this. Suppose he's a little late calling me up --that's nothing to get hysterical about. Maybe he isn't going to call--maybe he's coming straight up here without telephoning. He'll be cross if he sees I have been crying. They don't like you to cry. He doesn't cry. I wish to God I could make him cry. I wish I could make him cry and tread the floor and feel his heart heavy and big and festering in him. I wish I could hurt him like hell.

He doesn't wish that about me. I don't think he even knows how he makes me feel. I wish he could know, without my telling him. They don't like you to tell them they've made you cry. They don't like you to tell them you're unhappy because of them. If you do, they think you're possessive and exacting. And then they hate you. They hate you whenever you say anything you really think. You always have to keep playing little games. Oh, I thought we didn't have to; I thought this was so big I could say whatever I meant. I guess you can't, ever. I guess there isn't ever anything big enough for that. Oh, if he would just telephone, I wouldn't tell him I had been sad about him. They hate sad people. I would be so sweet and so gay, he couldn't help but like me. If he would only telephone. If he would only telephone.

Maybe that's what he is doing. Maybe he is coming on here without calling me up. Maybe he's on his way now. Something might have happened to him. No, nothing could ever happen to him. I can't picture anything happening to him. I never picture him run over. I never see him lying still and long and dead. I wish he were dead. That's a terrible wish. That's a lovely wish. If he were dead, he would be mine. If he were dead, I would never think of now and the last few weeks. I would remember only the lovely times. It would be all beautiful. I wish he were dead. I wish he were dead, dead, dead.

This is silly. It's silly to go wishing people were dead just because they don't call you up the very minute they said they would. Maybe the clock's fast; I don't know whether it's right. Maybe he's hardly late at all. Anything could have made him a little late. Maybe he had to stay at his office. Maybe he went home, to call me up from there, and somebody came in. He doesn't like to telephone me in front of people. Maybe he's worried, just alittle, little bit, about keeping me waiting. He might even hope that I would call him up. I could do that. I could telephone him.

I mustn't. I mustn't, I mustn't. Oh, God, please don't let me telephone him. Please keep me from doing that. I know, God, just as well as You do, that if he were worried about me, he'd telephone no matter where he was or how many people there were around him. Please make me know that, God. I don't ask YOU to make it easy for me--You can't do that, for all that You could make a world. Only let me know it, God. Don't let me go on hoping. Don't let me say comforting things to myself. Please don't let me hope, dear God. Please don't.

I won't telephone him. I'll never telephone him again as long as I live. He'll rot in hell, before I'll call him up. You don't have to give me strength, God; I have it myself. If he wanted me, he could get me. He knows where I ram. He knows I'm waiting here. He's so sure of me, so sure. I wonder why they hate you, as soon as they are sure of you. I should think it would be so sweet to be sure.

It would be so easy to telephone him. Then I'd know. Maybe it wouldn't be a foolish thing to do. Maybe he wouldn't mind. Maybe he'd like it. Maybe he has been trying to get me. Sometimes people try and try to get you on the telephone, and they say the number doesn't answer. I'm not just saying that to help myself; that really happens. You know that really happens, God. Oh, God, keep me away from that telephone. Kcep me away. Let me still have just a little bit of pride. I think I'm going to need it, God. I think it will be all I'll have.

Oh, what does pride matter, when I can't stand it if I don't talk to him? Pride like that is such a silly, shabby little thing. The real pride, the big pride, is in having no pride. I'm not saying that just because I want to call him. I am not. That's true, I know that's true. I will be big. I will be beyond little prides.

Please, God, keep me from, telephoning him. Please, God.

I don't see what pride has to do with it. This is such a little thing, for me to be bringing in pride, for me to be making such a fuss about. I may have misunderstood him. Maybe he said for me to call him up, at five. "Call me at five, darling." He could have said that, perfectly well. It's so possible that I didn't hear him right. "Call me at five, darling." I'm almost sure that's what he said. God, don't let me talk this way to myself. Make me know, please make me know.

I'll think about something else. I'll just sit quietly. If I could sit still. If I could sit still. Maybe I could read. Oh, all the books are about people who love each other, truly and sweetly. What do they want to write about that for? Don't they know it isn't tree? Don't they know it's a lie, it's a God damned lie? What do they have to tell about that for, when they know how it hurts? Damn them, damn them, damn them.

I won't. I'll be quiet. This is nothing to get excited about. Look. Suppose he were someone I didn't know very well. Suppose he were another girl. Then I d just telephone and say, "Well, for goodness' sake, what happened to you?" That's what I'd do, and I'd never even think about it. Why can't I be casual and natural, just because I love him? I can be. Honestly, I can be. I'll call him up, and be so easy and pleasant. You see if I won't, God. Oh, don't let me call him. Don't, don't, don't.

God, aren't You really going to let him call me? Are You sure, God? Couldn't You please relent? Couldn't You? I don't even ask You to let him telephone me this minute, God; only let him do it in a little while. I'll count five hundred by fives. I'll do it so slowly and so fairly. If he hasn't telephoned then, I'll call him. I will. Oh, please, dear God, dear kind God, my blessed Father in Heaven, let him call before then. Please, God. Please.

Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twentyfive, thirty, thirty-five....

Thursday, June 22, 2006

It's Raining In Love



Have you ever felt certain poems go straight thru ur heart and touch ur soul...
some which make us say aloud.. "eh... good one..." :) this is one of those i came across... very mild feeling of the budding love b/w two hearts...


I don't know what it is,
But I distrust myself
When I start to like a girl
A lot.

It makes me nervous.
I don't say the right things
Or perhaps I start
To examine,
Evaluate,
Compute
What I am saying.

If I say, "Do you think it's going to rain?"
and she says, "I don't know,"
I start thinking: Does she really like me?

In other words
I get a little creepy.

A friend of mine once said,
"It's twenty times better to be friends
with someone
than it is to be in love with them."

I think he's right and besides,
its raining somewhere, programming flowers
and keeping snails happy.
That's all taken care of.

BUT
if a girl likes me a lot
and starts getting real nervous
and suddenly begins asking me funny questions
and looks sad if I give the wrong answers
and she says things like,
"Do you think it's going to rain?"
and I say, "It beats me,"
and she says, "Oh,"
and looks a little sad
at the clear blue California sky,
I think: Thank God, it's you, baby, this time
Instead of me.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

A Walk to Remember...



A walk to remember.

The woods were lovely dark and deep. Walking slowly beside her, in the damp mud road, was her husband whom she barely knew. He was very relaxed, happily watching a group of kids playing at a distance.
Her "mehandi" was still dark and smelling fresh, reminding of the excitements and tension 2 days back. "It cant work this way mom...please stop this", she kept telling her mother till the last moment,who wouldnt listen but carry on with beautifying her.She had been crying all night and her make-up had to be patched up twice or thrice to hide her awkwardly swollen face.
It was too late now.She had to get married "NOW" to the guy...The guy whom she had seen once and talked thrice.The guy about whom she knew nothing at all but for his name and work.Everything happened in a hurry and everthing was over before she could breathe again... here was she with this guy, all alone in this hill station... how can anybody send their daughter such a long distance with a stranger??? "Hey look at that....!!!" he shouted in excitement... she shrugged and looked where his finger pointed...
Bright colored balloons dotted the sky. Children were jumping in joy and he seemed to be completely absorbed into it...colors are always exciting...but not now.She was not with her friends, not with her team mates, not even with her parents. This was not a 3 day tour or team building trip.This was her life and she has been forced to start off with this person.
Loneliness and discomfort with this stranger was sickening...She looked at him in wonder... does he even realize that he has married me?Does he understand that he has to love me,protect me,care for me,a new girl,a stranger,all his life?

The marriage morning started like a daylight nightmare for her.The first time in life she felt she should have fallen in love and then married somebody. some man who she would have felt more comfortable with, someone whom she could call by name and introduce to friends, someone whom she could trust. But marriage morning was obviously not the time to think all these.
Her parents would never have said "no" if she had declared that she was in love.But she was not emotionally attached to anybody she met,especially guys.She was very friendly,playing,teasing, but never had second thought for any man around her.That brought the entire responsibility of looking for a groom on her parents' shoulders.Her parents had had a very bad time with this entire process.They started their groom search with unending "&" operation. The concatenation of "Horoscope matching" & "Decent family" & "Good looking" & "Good pay" & "same cast" & so on... that always gave 0 output.Now after all that 8 months hunt,they were not ready to hear her "ifs" and "buts" for this 'good guy'.
She had explained to her father.She does not feel anything for this person.He is nothing more to me than any other software professional.Like list of names she sees in the chat rooms. Distant and usual...Her father asked her to talk to him and even meet him and discuss their likes and dislikes.That meeting started like the induction programme self introduction and ended like a 3 hour seminar.She was waiting to get away from that place."So did you talk with him?"."yes"."was he polite and decent"."yes"."Oh he got that special flavoured tri-color icecream...!!!".OK.All her family and relatives discussed...She was given the chance to "understand her life partner" and that they have understood each other "well" and she is ready for the marriage now.
All arrangements geared up and it was 24 days after her first meeting that she was getting married to her man... perfect match as everybody else described.Marriage hall was full with excited people, kids got the chance to play,ladies got the chance to wear the silk saree.The smell of rose and jasmine filled the hall.Different poses for the photographer and atrificial smiles for the videos.The moment he had tied the sacred thread was unexplainable vaccum in the head.It was over.She was his wife.Accepted by the society and law.Her proud parents were relaxed.This was their duty they had been planning to fulfill since she was born.All this crowd will fade away,leaving her to explore her new world...
He pulled her hand gently to sit on the stone bench.The bench was wet and the chillness was indeed enjoyable."So what are you thinking about?"... that was an unexpected ball.should she reply?should she be silent?She remembered the two hour presentation she had taken last month.Bold and confident, she kept answering all the queries with a broad smile.Now she remained silent."Do you know honey... I was not for this marriage too..." Oh my God... what did i hear??? did HE tell that or did i think aloud? what does he mean?didnt he like me?was he forced into this? He must have noticed the quizzical look on my face...with a gentle smile he continued..."I wanted to look for a girl myself,buy her everything,care for her,argue with her,laugh and cry with her,then get married to her... Anything otherwise would be a drama. Traditional drama and i was not for it anytime. But my love for my work and also my stress would not give me time and mind to search that girl...When your parents talked to me 2 weeks before our marriage, about your fear of getting married,to a stranger, i could completely understand your mind. I could see myself in you and that was the moment i decided i will marry you.There was no time to prove myself to you,make you trust me,everything happened in a hurry.But there was the entire life before me, to please you,to love you, to make you trust me.This is no less than what i had dreamt,the girl i was waiting for,is you.Now tell me... will you love me???" Tears came down her cheek.Her parents had done more than their duty.They had found her the perfect guy. Thank you Mom!!! Thank you Dad!!! His question remained unanswered yet both knew the answer.... and they lived happily ever after.


Anitha

கற்பு...



இரவு நேர பேருந்து பயணத்தின்
அரை உறக்கத்தினூடே...
ரகசியமாய் இடை வருடும்
பின் இருக்கை மிருகம்...

காமமும் கோபமும்
ஒருசேர கிளர்ந்தெழ,

வருடலின் சுகம் மீறியும்
"பளாரென" அறைகிறேன்...

என் வருகையை
எதிர்நோக்கி
தலையணை கட்டித்தூங்கும்-

கணவன் முகம் நினைத்து...

-அனிதா