You

                                                   By Latha Prem Sakhya

                                           I was given to you - a  companion

To be at your side

To enjoy the life we shared

But what have you done to me?

You petted me,

You pampered me,

You made me your play thing.

I was a pawn in your hand,

A rag doll used to satiate

Your hidden desires and whims.

I a  fool, a slave to your charm

Did everything to please you.

I cared for you as a babe.

When babies arrived, yet I found time

To cater to your demands and desires.

“Nay”, I never said and you thrived.

You took me for granted

I became an abject being

Even after education and money

Liberated me to be a free individual.

I, with my infinite patience

Tried to please you.

But you, in your growing arrogance

Misused me, brutally.

What was sacred in me,

Was torn and destroyed to fulfill

Your perverted mind’s desire.

You treated me heinously.

I was raped and tortured

Even my lifeless body was not spared

No beast will do such a thing.

You have become worst than a beast.

Now, it is time for me to rethink,

It is time for me to retrace,

It is time for me to redefine,

It is time for me to break these fetters,

Your false chains of helplessness and need

That fetters me to your side.

Now let me live like a human.

Even animals have their liberty.

You told me, I tempted you

Exhibiting my nakedness

I lured you to commit

Unimagined atrocities on me.

My looks, my body, my walk,

Everything tempted you.

But I am helpless

I am made this way.

Isn’t it time

You looked into yourself

Or stand in my shoe

May be for a day

To comprehend my life?

When are you going to transform?

If you don’t, I will change.

I have a blood thirsty sideto me.

Leashed in my subconscious

Where I become a terrible

Blood drinking deity-

Impatient, arrogant, intolerant

Wild, untamed, ferocious,

With an over whelming desire to kill,

And destroy everything on my path

Hindering my progress in life

To live like I desire.

Once  unleashed

No power can withstand

This ferocious Fury

Fettered Inside my self

Generation after generation.

Don’t blame me,

I didn’t warn you.

I gave you many hints.

If you don’t listen-

This wild Fury,

Releasing itself

Will be satiated

Only by drinking your blood.

ENCOUNTER

                            Latha Prem Sakhya

I met him one afternoon.

The merciless scintillating sun

Drove every  critter to siesta

So only me and him –

He on the other side of the wall.

His glistening, rhythmic body

Fascinated me, as he swam

Upstream, head held high against the current.

Mesmerised, I admired him,over the low wall

Sensing me, his serpentine movement suspended.

His eyes glued on me, an intruder, I felt

Spying on his mysterious journey

For a rendevous, else where.

His snaky gaze and his fearlessness

Shook me, to call out to my partner

But he balanced, unperturbed

The watery stream, rhythmically

Swaying his undulating body.

“Oh my, he is a beauty, a cobra”.

My partner’s presence, and his appraising  voice,

Disturbed him, slowly he retreated

His glassy stare still on us

As he vanished beneath the undergrowth.

A Mite’s Tale

                                       Latha Prem Sakhya

“Amma” she shrieked,

I tried to hide in a corner of my home.

“Look there it is,” amma laughed.

“Where? Over there.”

She pointed to my corner.

“Oh my, it’s such a mite’.

“No, I don’t want it here, I won’t sleep,

He will come on to my bed”.

Amma  rolled up a newspaper

Sweeping me out of the corner

She threw me out along with the paper.

Immediately I sprang up on the jasmine vine

Tomorrow I, will be there, I consoled myself;                                                        

The moment she starts for school.

I resumed my arduous journey   back

But in the night, the same drama was repeated

But I was adamant, it was a good corner

I caught enough mosquitoes for my food

So back I went  to my corner, this continued for days.

Amma was really sorry for me I think

One night I heard her say, 

“Let it be mone, he will never harm you,

He will eat all the mosquitoes and insects”.

But she was terrified of spiders

And amma had to throw me out.

One day I was fed up of weaving web

I decided to move off.

Fortunately I found a safe place

A secure corner under the kitchen slab

Where I knew my web would be safe

I was sure amma wouldn’t mind

Sharing her space with me.

.

Lany and Dany heard a noise one day,
Peeping out, they spied Miff and Muff at play.
Sniffing, snarling slow
Scratching, biting blow
The cat and the dog game became a fray.

                                                        Providence

                                                                              Latha Prem Sakhya

The little sparrow

Excited on its prime trip

Full of joy and aspiration

Landed on the car rack

Even as her friends flew away.

Stranded and trapped

  In an unknown place

Hungry and cold she waited,

Some hand would lift her up

Protect her from the cold,

Creeping up her tiny feet,

Paralyzing her bit by bit.

The cold wind had ruthlessly

Knocked her down to fall

On the luggage rack

Where she huddled

While death, snake like

Mesmerizing  drew nearer and nearer.

The car stopped suddenly

The air no more pierced her

She huddled into her wings, 

When a warm hand reached out

The fingers massaged her gently

Lighting up a fire in her

The heat seeped into her body

Chasing the numbness away.

Warm and comfortable

She stared through the window

The whiff of cold air made her shiver.

Dismally she looked around

Everything seemed friendly

Even those around her.

She stood swaying

Smoothing her ruffled feathers

She poised herself to fly

The slicing cold wind

Dismally put her off.

But a  split second later

Mustering all her strength

She flapped her wings 

And flew away

Never looking back.

My Rose Apple ( panineer jaampa)



A sappling cherished
From my Appa' s farm
Planted by my bedroom window
Started bearing fruits
But my tiny friends -the squirrels 
Thrive on the pink blossoms
And no fruits to ripen. 

I let them eat! my wild friends
They are a joy to behold
But occasionally the urge to taste
Atleast one , makes us to cover
Those close to the ground.
These are two we saved
For our li'l ones
To watch them bite
In to the luscious flesh
And relish its taste.

February 27

February 27

February 27 comes  loaded with memories which  is tinged with colours of pain. Thoughts of Appa who loomed large in our lives assailed me.  One day, too early for his age  he left to his eternal home, leaving  a gaping hole in our lives. I have never come across a visionary parent like him, who  had definite goals for his children. After the dissolution of his chit fund, which was a hard blow for him, he started the MB Tutorial where we all taught the local children. A  meagre fee was taken but it was more of a  social service. It lasted more than  30 years. And he taught there along with my mother until he was too weak to make the walk . Villapilsala is thus  filled with men and women whom our family had taught and  Bright Sir as they lovingly call him loom large in their hearts too, even now. A farmer with green fingers he converted the arid  hilly land to a cultivable fertile land through terrace cultivation.  He was awarded the "karshaka Pradhaman" award of Villapil Panchayat.

My Appa 

Not a day passes without thinking about you appa
How you send us to the best of schools
Believing and instilling in us the conviction, education is the greatest wealth
How with foresight you insisted that we learn malayalam because we were living in kerala
How you introduced us to all kinds of fine arts, 

Even taking us to temples to watch the various art forms
How you taught us to love people without discrimination
How you dreamed for each of us and encouraged us to scale the skies.
How you instilled in us a love for nature, preserving land and trees
Appa everyday begins with God and your words to guide us
You taught us the greatest romance, gifting flowers for amma everyday
On this day your birthday you are far away in Heaven
But we still feel your loving presence around us.
We are lucky to have such a father
Appa you taught us the secret of giving,

To the extend of giving your land to build road for the panchayat
Whatever we are is your teaching and guidance appa.
And before you we  lay all our achievements.
We miss you appa ...

Limerick 3

Lany and Dany went fishing one day
Followed by Bamby all the winding way
On seeing a wild hare
Bamby started to tear
Fishing ended in chasing dog all day.

Limerick 2

One day on their way to their granny's house
Lany and Dany found a tiny mouse
They chased it to catch
For a gift to patch
A quarrel with Tom who stayed near their house.

Hippocrene: A Post a day - Limerick

Hippocrene: A Post a day - Limerick

A Post a day - Limerick

                                                                       Limerick
Yeah, it is really funny how  I came out of my lethargy  and plop I have fallen in love with Limerick. I can't predict how long it is going to last but I shall go on till it lasts. And so a limerick  a day I promise myself now.

Not an innately humorous person I think I have to learn to be funny to tickle others to laughter. So  following the foot step of Edward Lear, a master at Limericks I am going to tell stories only  now, about two toddlers -  Lany and Dany in my limericks.

For the lay men  a Limerick is a poem with 5 lines rhyming  aabba with the first two and fifth line having 7 to !0 syllables and the third and fourth with 5-7 syllables.

An example from Edward Lear:

" There was an old man with a beard
Who said it is just as I feared!
Two owls and a hen
Four larks and a wren,
Have all built their nest in my beard."

The nursery rhymes "Hickory Dickory Dock", "Little Miss Muffet", "Mary had a Little Lamb" are all examples of Limerick.

MY FIRST LIMERICK

                The Two Little Guys
The two little guys Lany and Dany
Went walking to see their granny
Plucking  a bloom here
Chasing a fly there
And greeted granny with a wee bunny.

My Extended Family.

He comes stealthily with the dawn
Settling down comfortably, his tiny feet astride
The thin branch of the nutmeg tree,
Eyes glued to the kitchen window,
Ears straining to grasp our movements
He waits patiently. If silence greets him
He breaks into shrill chatter
Piercing my ears to roll  off my bed.
Prayers forgotten, I run to my kitchen
Straining the rice kept for our wild family
I empty the cupful on his empty platter.
Watching him scramble in excitement
I extend my hand pleadingly inviting him
To feed from my hand.Rushing down
Fear assaults  he stops, flicking his tail
He scoots off to his favourite corner.
Bidding him to eat, I hasten to tell
My morning prayers.

There are days I sleep off through his call
Rushing out, I scan the  branches
The emptiness  sears my soul.
I place his share on the plate and wait hopefully
A dull ache permeating my being
I start my morning chores.
As we settle for breakfast we hear him
I rush to my kitchen
There framed by my window I see him
Daintily eating on one side of the plate
On the other in companiable silence the one legged crow.
The sight splashes rainbow colours of joy
Brimming eyes full of gratitude
For my extended family
I continue my chores.

Nammu

Nammu
It is all about my new addition to my menagerie. My friend gave me a squirrel.But a maimed one.His tail was mutilated and was in an inflamed condition.I didn't have the heart to say no but it was painful for me to look at him. But he stole my heart with his friendliness.He would come running to me when I opened his cage.Without any hesitation he would take whatever that was offered him. He would lie down to scratch his back occasionally.Twice my dogs attacked him but he hid deep inside his nest which he himself  had created inside a pot with coconut husk and banyan bits I had provided him. Now he is a sight of joy for me.He has a bushy tail and he looks quite handsome. Looking back I realize time heals and we should offer to look after the sick and and the wounded however pain full the sight is.

  Gratitude

The other day I had the luxury of just sitting down and going through a bit of my past days of hurry burry. I didn’t even have time to think anything straight. Of all the loved ones who were there to help me two people stand out. I don’t know whether they know how much they helped me standing there smiling encouragement, or coming up asking me to sit and relax or even eat something. They are so young but they seem to have the wisdom of ages. They never came to the foreground so I often missed them and couldn’t pay much attention to them but they were there for me and that was the greatest gift they gave me. I shall never forget them for the time they gave me for being with me as one of my family. Their presence graced the function. Even my family had taken them to heart. They have strengthened some of my own visions of life. Be like water and take the shape of the vessel it contains. Presence is more important than anything. Blend, blend and merge with the situation you are in. Don’t demand anything God will take care of you. Now I really miss them.May God bless them where ever they are.

Gillu Sunder - Part II

Gillu was growing handsomer. I tried to get a girl for him. But couldn't He was becoming vociferous too. May be the loneliness was irking him. Then one day  in the morning as I opened the cage he jumped out. I didn't try  to catch him.Yeah, I  wanted him to go and find a mate for himself. Believe it or not the next day morning I saw him coming to my back yard with another squirrel trailing him, presumably his girl friend.I scattered  some rice on the roof of the kennel  a place where I scatter  food for my wild feathered  friends. He and his girl  came down the mango tree, jumped on the roof top and started eating. I felt happy. I knew deep inside he will haunt my place and never go away.We watched him enjoying his new found freedom.My partner said " let them be, this is better". And I nodded consent, even as I longed to hold him and stroke his furry body and watch him raise his tiny fore-paws to scratch him as he enjoyed himself his eyes closed.

Gillu Sunder

Gillu Sunder - Part I
He came to me one fine evening in the most unpremeditated way. I loved him from the moment I saw him. My evenings were brightened  by his presence. After college I would rush to him and spend time talking to him and feeding him. Slowly he trusted me.  He would snuggle down inside my palms, some times nibble my nails. Then one day, my carelessness, he jumped out of  the cage. I was inconsolable. Amini  tried to console me saying  he would be  come back. My  partner as usual kept a studied silence. I kept a bright face telling him repeatedly its  good he escaped. He will be happy in his  new found freedom. He listened patiently never making a comment  Inside I was crying thinking of what dangers he would be facing and how untutored he was in the ways of the wild. I saw him in my mind's eye cuddling inside the coconut shell which was his home in his spacious cage. By 6.30 pm he would retire even blocking the entrance with coconut husk. Every night I would go and bid him goodnight and tell Our father... silently .He would pull aside the husk and peep at me, and then disappear, an apparent dismissal.
I couldn't sleep that night  I rolled on my bed. Finally my partner queried "Its the squirrel isn't it?" "Yes." I whimpered."where will he sleep tonight? "Don't you worry, he will find some safe place, may be he will come back." I was not convinced. I shut my eyes and pretended to sleep. But sleep evaded me.and my eyes were full of my handsome Gillu.
 Morning  after our prayers, I sat despondently. Suddenly I caught his glance on me. He smiled at me 'Cheer up, I shall buy another one for you". Then we heard a tumult outside and  the frantic chirping of a squirrel. Lassie was chasing him and he was clinging frantically on to a coconut tree -  as he was not skilled in climbing..The boy who sold him to me had found him from a fallen nest  a teeny weeny one with his eyes hardly open. He had been hand fed and so he  never knew the ways of the wild. We caught him. He did not struggle, he just  went limb -  with joy or relief - I don't know what... I took him back to his cage and  fed him. He seemed quite unperturbed as if nothing had  happened. My face lit up as if thousands of poothiri had exploded in my heart.

New Nest

Dewy-eyed dawn, twittering songsters,

Eagerly awaiting the golden streaks

To lighten up the world

For the early worms to catch.

In a tiny nest, the she-bird’s pride-

Geared up for her first flight,

With mounting excitement.

Wings gathering balance,

The little one circled in the air

With swan like grace

Under the watchful eyes

Of the adoring pair.  

The he-bird singing hymns,

Heralding the sun, flew mirthfully,

Cheering the little one, inspiring her to fly

Higher and higher, to race with the wind. 

Oblivious of the sorrowful joy, colonizing

The mother-mind; tenderly visualizing

The young one, soon  in a nest of her own

Chosen by her beloved for a new life.

Latha Prem Sakhya

                                                                     From  Nature at My Doorstep

                                        

Time Machine

                                  On the Wings of Time

Nestling down in an arm chair at moth hour

                         Reading a book; I slipped into a trance.

I saw my self out in search of a vague slippery thought

                        Journeying through the maze of caverns

                       Fancy drew me to spy a quaint machine

Intricately designed with a seat; curious like Alice

                    I entered the automaton and sat on it

My hand unconsciously hitting a switch it took off.

Flying on the wings of Time I swished past verdurous Earth

Entering space the Time Traveller headed towards  a wormhole

Its sinister darkness sent ripples of fear down my spine

But within seconds I was out; it seems I had travelled eons together

And had arrived in a mystic land – of rivers and mountains

Hillocks and crystal clear streams - a land

                             Of strange animals and alien people.

Mastering control of the machine I landed in a grove.

My roving eyes alighted on a mysterious creature; strange yet close

To the horse of our age; I was smitten by its beauty and grace.

 The silvery horn on the middle of its forehead gleamed in the sun

It trotted nimbly but had cloven hooves of goat; the golden mane

Hanging thick and long glittered pure gold in the sun

The lion tail reaching its hooves swished silvery stream.

Hiding behind trees adorned with multi hued flowers,

I followed the animal as it ambled along nibbling softly the grass,

Occasionally lifting its magnificent head to gaze around to assess

Its sylvan surroundings until it came upon a glade open

In it’s midst shone a pond crystal clear reflecting the azure sky

And the flowery trees, almost another garden enticing.

The reeds in gentle motion created music strange

Listening mesmerized my gaze fell upon a being ethereal

Gliding over the grass, almost human except for her golden wings

Delicate and transparent; dressed in a gossamer gown embellished

With roses red.  Going straight to the glistening creature-

A unicorn my heart whispered as she touched its silvery horn

 The animal knelt adoringly at her feet; holding on to its golden mane

She swung onto its back and galloped away.

The galloping sound receded

And the tick-tock of the clock

Pervaded my being

                                             With consciousness

And  disappointment -

I had lost grip

Of a strange world,

Revealed in a vision

Rudely transported back

To my world of routine.

22-11-11

A KALEIDOSCOPE OF ART

A KALEIDOSCOPE OF ART

Words and figures, both conveying myriads of emotions is what one encounters in Latha Prem Sakhya’s second work  Nature at my Doorstep (2011).  Just like the warbling of the bird she empathies with, they soothe and disturb more than any music channel. The dexterousness of her thoughts, taking shape as poetry, sometimes prose and when there is a lull, the oil canvas sketches, speaks of the serenity, expression gives. To capture the kaleidoscopic vision of life, her words born of agony and ecstasy suffice (“Words From my Heart”).

Kanaka, Latha Sakhya’s alter ego, is a young woman, proud of her identity as a woman. Growing up in a convent, stifled by rules and regulations curbing her naturally impulsive nature, she feels hemmed in.  Groundless worries, ancient and traditional stories occupy her fertile mind. She revels in God’s potent presence. Life’s ups and downs are traversed in a knowing acceptance that God oversees all and that life awards us (“Colors of Eternity”). She speaks of contentment in the midst of large families, the love and the gaiety she enjoyed there and how empty life seems when people are not around. Kanaka, in her natural transition into middle age, speaks of the empty nest syndrome and the mother’s ‘sorrowful joy’ at the flight of the young one. Acceptance of the foibles of others and her overwhelming love towards all, which is Kanaka’s panacea, sees her sailing through life – pen, paint and canvas in hand.

Sweet, small anecdotes built around the world of animals show her interacting with them with a high level of empathy – the mischievous Tommy the cat, the bird’s self assured possession of her private space, the visiting robin, the love birds – and all are observed with affection and concern. Sakhya’s poetry vividly draws the scene which she later sketches for us. Her pencil shadow drawings reflect life as she would like it, idyllic and serene. Juxtaposed against this tranquillity are the ominous forebodings caused by the agonized hoot of the owl. The sight of the caged owl torments her soul. Throughout the collection there are conflicting images – the serene and the ruffled; solidity and change; rootedness and flux – both her poetry and her drawing show this duality.

Latha Sakhya’s oil canvas paintings show the turbulence of feeling. With her strong strokes and play of colors one can feel life and movement in the paintings.

“Spark” ironically speaks of the abandoned boy who grows up in a grey world only to be trampled and destroyed by his own hands. Life, struggling to go on, is reflected in the uprooted tree. Life has to be in the middle of humanity. The person on the deck of the schooner, lazily sailing along, longs to be back on land, reunited with his beloved.

The writer sees women in their innate strength and gentleness a combination of the tiger and the lamb of Blake – Mother Earth and Bhadrakali all rolled into one. Every woman has the wild side to her personality as can be seen in “Trapped Bird” where the protagonist, in the quiet of the night, is highly conscious of the trapped creature within her and yearns to flap her wings and soar to the limitless horizon. The cry of Mother Nature in “What am I Now” is a cry of frustration against the furies of the element and the cruel savagery of the humans.

Childhood memories also bring in the images of the tamarind tree and the swing. When the family moves to a new place she loses all that she holds dear and “Relationship” speaks of tenacious hold gone feeble. New rough terrains, streams and little mountains beckon her. In the lap of nature she feels a deep sense of serenity and calm.

Calamities and sufferings awaken the poetic harp in her. “Elizabeth” presents the painful rebirth of a Tsunami survivor. Vehement support for the downtrodden and the idealist are encapsulated in “To Irom Sharmila” and “To live freely”. Throughout there are images of both peace and turmoil. Even the placid pond, luxuriating in the thoughts of its creation, is ruffled by a sudden fall of stars . The catching of the tadpole, the children’s waiting for the mother’s arrival from work at the end of the day , the frog’s plight as summer sets in and then the rain  showers are all seen through the eyes of young Kanaka , whose joie d’ vivre is inimitable.

Love also occupies the mind of Kanaka, the protagonist.  She reads in a fairy tale romance of twin souls of platonic love. In “Did I tell You?” we encounter infatuation. But “Your love for me” speaks of the creative aspect of love to energize relationships.

With “Rocking Lap” the poet has broken free from her persona. Nostalgic memories of her story telling party, her inspirational mother and the idealistic relationship her parent shared comes crowding upon her. The pathos inherent in the acceptance of personal losses is what the last poem “In Memoriam” is all about.

 Prem Latha Sakhya’s rich tapestry of words and drawings is a well structured narrative, an amalgam of thoughts which express simple, deep feelings. It offers a short, sweet experience!!!!

Birds and Children

Birds and Children

The other day looking out of her window Kanaka saw the Mulberry bush out side her gate being shaken violently and Indran shouting, “Aye don’t break the branch”. She saw two small legs scuttling away, the mission fulfilled. She felt happy. This was what she had wanted. When she had planted the bush outside her gate in the no man’s land - a tiny space outside her wall she had answered Indran’s quizzical gaze, “This is for birds and children”. The bush had grown and started bearing lots of fruits.  She had hardly seen any child picking it. Sometimes she would pick them for herself and  kunjatta her neighbours eight year old, almost a chocolate baby, who would eat  the purple berries  fearfully as if it were poison. Today she felt fulfilled her wish had come true. Children are picking the fruits.
Her mind wafted to those good old days when she had trailed behind her Appa eating fruits she picked from the trees. She had once asked him why he left so many fruits unpicked in the trees - mango, guava, chikkoo, Njara, butter fruit, jack fruit, to list only a few. He would answer that it’s for the birds and the children. That if he did not leave fruits for the birds and the squirrels how could they survive and of course, for some children like her who are satisfied only when they pick directly from trees. She had been carrying this in her heart. And when she bought a bit of land she too planted trees that bore fruits for birds and children. By the time they started bearing fruits her child had flown far away As the present children  led a closeted life  and her only one far away from home she planted the mulberry bush for strange children who passed by her gate. They had found the mulberry bush and were picking fruits and she was surprised to see almost all the slender branches heavy with fruits. And her Appa’s words echoed in her mind “killikalkkum, Kuzhanthaikkallukum kuduthal than marathille nirayya pazham Kaikkum” (Only if you give to birds and children, trees will bear plenty of fruits).