The Recluse
Standing in front of my mirror,
Remnant glory sneers at me.
Running away from life,
Only shadow of mine is with me.
Standing in front of my mirror,
Winding path of an innocent mistake mocks me.
The unknown destiny of my self,
Shows its mistiness to me.
Standing in front of my mirror,
Her prudent glee softly kills me.
Memoirs of that time,
Remind what laughter is to me.
Standing in front of my mirror,
meanders of today smirks me.
Haziness of the image,
Undoes the immortality of me.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Sunday, August 13, 2006
To Answer The Past.
He was new to the place. Like a lost child searching for his mother he kept asking.But in vain.
Nobody bothered to look into his eyes and know his concern.His warmth in adressing vieled the pain behind those eyes and they did it perfectly, serving another purpose as though.
"which way to santhome church ? " his heavy voice asked with respect.
"I am new to this place, i dont know !!! " the white collered guy with laptop said.
May be he knew but didnt want to reveal it as he had just hidden his lifes saving under the cross.
He smiled back.
A few meters ahead, there was a tea stall "Heavens" . He took his long strides to interupt the round table conference going there. Newspapers from yesterdays were all strewn across the temporary bench. Hot fumes from the teapot made the surroundin
g suffocating but nonethless he liked the aroma. Out of the diplomats only an old paltry guy going through the paper seemed his presence there, but he too waited for his lips to make the first move.
"Hello!, can you tell me the way to santhome church ?"
The topic of " who is better? sonia or manmohan" suddenly lost it bonus poll points.
"Today there is no Mass, tomorrow there is one in the morning" ,a typical rural indian answer, you ask for cat they say dog and you say dog then they ask where is the dog.
"No ..No ..i didnt come for Mass, i just needed to know the way" He said with the same old smile.
"Oh ..you take the first right and then straight, it end at church gates." with a sense of unseen pride he said.
" Thank you..." again flashing the curteous smile, he took his directions.
He first met her in the library, then in canteen, then in Dr Cherian's Home....only then he knew his prof had a beautiful daughter too apart from wacko son. He doesnt know what was special in her, her smile,her caring look,her straddled up hair, her unintentional sarcasm,her provoking moves at disc.....whatever it was he was in madly love with her. He realised this only when he left for America. Its been six years since, his profile changed from a B.Tech to a MS to a PhD but his marital status remained the same : Single.
He missed her very much in all those years but it was...... too late.
"Girls get aged very early, they need to be married of as early as possible" His orthodox mother's rule 31 echoed in his head.
Ya,it was indeed late... He realised.
"Take right ...", he didnt want to loose way one more time.
She had sent letters. Almost everyday.Then it became twice a day,then thrice,then a week.....then one day it stopped.He didnt know why then, but now he knew why......
"To maintain a distant-relationship is difficult, particularly when the girl is hot, there are always better guys than you or me around and they dont miss OPPURTUNITIES" his sadistic friend was speaking his mind in one of those drinking session. He didnt mind it then ..but now........
Off all the places, he found it hard to believe that he would be meeting her in a church, that was the last place on the earth for a meeting after all these years. Its not like she might be changed, ya person change afterall six years is a very long time. He changed, with long hairs, a beard and large spectacles with a pierced ear. He had a look of grassed out rock star rather than a brooded up professor. But nobody complained.
" the church gate..." He went passed the sad virgin Mary. Cathedral was in front with a large white cross in the front of it. Bouginvilla were planted on either side of it . Towards the right there was grotto and at the back of it he could see it. There were so many of them. Some in blue, some in white, some in light pink..... He moved towards them with a kind sluggishness that caught hold of him.
His eyes searched for some familiarity but she had always eluded him, may be this time too. Then he saw them....as usual she had different sense of selection.
On white marble, with a little girl in Balle dancer's dress just below the cross.White kind of lavender spread across the cross hiding the engraving. He removed them to a side .
It was written in black in some font he didnt know....
Anna Rose Cherian
Born On: 12-03-1980
Died On: 04-11-2001
"For all those coming here to see me...Dont tell me you came empty handed"
He took his the red box from his pocket. The ring was expensive at that time when she had asked but not anymore. He placed it on the Tomb.
Tears started rolling but he didnt cry.
He was new to the place. Like a lost child searching for his mother he kept asking.But in vain.
Nobody bothered to look into his eyes and know his concern.His warmth in adressing vieled the pain behind those eyes and they did it perfectly, serving another purpose as though.
"which way to santhome church ? " his heavy voice asked with respect.
"I am new to this place, i dont know !!! " the white collered guy with laptop said.
May be he knew but didnt want to reveal it as he had just hidden his lifes saving under the cross.
He smiled back.
A few meters ahead, there was a tea stall "Heavens" . He took his long strides to interupt the round table conference going there. Newspapers from yesterdays were all strewn across the temporary bench. Hot fumes from the teapot made the surroundin
g suffocating but nonethless he liked the aroma. Out of the diplomats only an old paltry guy going through the paper seemed his presence there, but he too waited for his lips to make the first move."Hello!, can you tell me the way to santhome church ?"
The topic of " who is better? sonia or manmohan" suddenly lost it bonus poll points.
"Today there is no Mass, tomorrow there is one in the morning" ,a typical rural indian answer, you ask for cat they say dog and you say dog then they ask where is the dog.
"No ..No ..i didnt come for Mass, i just needed to know the way" He said with the same old smile.
"Oh ..you take the first right and then straight, it end at church gates." with a sense of unseen pride he said.
" Thank you..." again flashing the curteous smile, he took his directions.
He first met her in the library, then in canteen, then in Dr Cherian's Home....only then he knew his prof had a beautiful daughter too apart from wacko son. He doesnt know what was special in her, her smile,her caring look,her straddled up hair, her unintentional sarcasm,her provoking moves at disc.....whatever it was he was in madly love with her. He realised this only when he left for America. Its been six years since, his profile changed from a B.Tech to a MS to a PhD but his marital status remained the same : Single.
He missed her very much in all those years but it was...... too late.
"Girls get aged very early, they need to be married of as early as possible" His orthodox mother's rule 31 echoed in his head.
Ya,it was indeed late... He realised.
"Take right ...", he didnt want to loose way one more time.
She had sent letters. Almost everyday.Then it became twice a day,then thrice,then a week.....then one day it stopped.He didnt know why then, but now he knew why......
"To maintain a distant-relationship is difficult, particularly when the girl is hot, there are always better guys than you or me around and they dont miss OPPURTUNITIES" his sadistic friend was speaking his mind in one of those drinking session. He didnt mind it then ..but now........
Off all the places, he found it hard to believe that he would be meeting her in a church, that was the last place on the earth for a meeting after all these years. Its not like she might be changed, ya person change afterall six years is a very long time. He changed, with long hairs, a beard and large spectacles with a pierced ear. He had a look of grassed out rock star rather than a brooded up professor. But nobody complained.
" the church gate..." He went passed the sad virgin Mary. Cathedral was in front with a large white cross in the front of it. Bouginvilla were planted on either side of it . Towards the right there was grotto and at the back of it he could see it. There were so many of them. Some in blue, some in white, some in light pink..... He moved towards them with a kind sluggishness that caught hold of him.
His eyes searched for some familiarity but she had always eluded him, may be this time too. Then he saw them....as usual she had different sense of selection.
On white marble, with a little girl in Balle dancer's dress just below the cross.White kind of lavender spread across the cross hiding the engraving. He removed them to a side .
It was written in black in some font he didnt know....
Anna Rose Cherian
Born On: 12-03-1980
Died On: 04-11-2001
"For all those coming here to see me...Dont tell me you came empty handed"
He took his the red box from his pocket. The ring was expensive at that time when she had asked but not anymore. He placed it on the Tomb.
Tears started rolling but he didnt cry.
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