The Disputed Romance

I look for thee on the sky,
the moon whispers thy secrets.
Stars so engrossed in little gossips,
they stare at me and giggle.

I look for thee on the rainbow,
All its colors fritter away.
Rain drops hit; winds blow,
To set me free from your sway.

You be this, you be that.
Can I keep my eyes shut?
When you, my fair lady!
Move so elegantly as you strut?

Warmth of the Moon, I feel.
White bright circle is not all I see.
Little stories of the stars, I read- to
Look at the canvas is my heed.

Lonely passer-by passes by the river.
He has no intention to fish
In the running rage of a runnel.
He slurps a few water to nourish.

Now tell me, Oh sweet heart!
Need I to fathom
the depth of an ocean
to understand it's passion?

Truth has many colors.
Yours may be yellow.
Mine may be maroon- Yet
it's neither black, not white.

As I turn your book
page after page,
The world awaits
unspoken truth.

As I unwrap the gift of life
one after the other,
The beauty lays bare;
look how I found you in me!

Saravanan.

The Battle Within

After all the running around
for those reserved scholarships

that unpaid bills and

the piling up interests

still stare at you.

Who will but tell

the young generation

That life follows 

no linear equation.

that to work our way upwards 

thy career is no staircase

Semi-starved stomach

raise the rage of the heart-for

The struggle within is real.

Sulking at the office desk-

Where to survive 

is to thrive

join the capitalist 

drive to disaster!

Its competition model 

is to do or die.

Mirror their conscience.

embarass them,You'd.

There is a standard 

for everything.

any different you are; 

a problem hence -Your

unpredictability threatens!.

Success is such a shallow pond.

it lacks the wilderness 

of the river of passion.

Yet, when you walk away from it:

Like a firefly in a dark space

You remain an oddity of sort;

niether here nor there.

Schooling a herd mentality

is disrespect to diversity- Remember!

when the last door is closed

surrounded by smokescreen

one puff at a time- pristine souls

leave unannounced- for

the struggle within is real. 

Lonely nights would tell us how

our fragile spirits are torn

between the eerie silence

of the otherwise noisy world

and the vociferous voice 

from within that is 

otherwise calm and composed

You sleep over things 

that belong to the past;

brood over events yet to surpass.

Do you ever realize? You seek for 

truth that is beyond your bounds;

that truth, if you deserve it

will find its way through.

Saravanan

On the Moral Bankruptcy of Our Times:-

 If you observe closely, the average case in a market-driven society remains that: those who work solely for themselves (self-interest) get the best material benefits (reward) and those who work for their people (selfless) not only get the least benefits (demoralize) but also risk their lives. Did you check the market rate for selling your soul? Do it soon! Society is getting morally bankrupt faster than ever with absolutely no regard for the "moral limits of our markets"(Sandel,M) But why do you care? After all you're a product in the market. 🥂

Saravanan

Bullets of Misery: 

   As a conscious voter in a democratic society, if you do not vote for a compassionate, responsible and competent candidate as your representative- who does not make you believe in an imagined enemy out of your fellowmen -who abstains from drowning you into false promises but can deliver on what a moral and an inclusive leadership calls for- whose subscription to a party or an ideology does not eclipse his or her allegiance to the constitution-then be prepared to face the bullets of misery. When you cast your vote, solely or tacitly to further your interest on caste, religion and business, your society's path to hell is paved with all your dysfunctional votes for bigotry, hatred and despotism. Then the monster of violence (see, Khair,T) is clearly in your drawing room. Let that sink in. 

Not Yours, S

My Unfathomable Self: 

Where can I find myself on this earth?
Into the woods of human passion?
Or on the hills of accumulated wealth?
Who am I? A lonely traveller that
lost his path? A shipwrecked brother
that swam with the tides of time?
Sometimes I wonder, how certain questions
remain unanswered for ever!- Oh thank god!
May they not be answered, never!
For as long as the puzzles of the past;
And the mystery of the future last,
I'll survive to see the spellbinding drama
That unfolds between,
every dawn and the dusk.

Saravanan.

A Tale of Twisted Fate

Her oscillating earrings
hum the musings of my heart.
Any wonder why
my nerve cells dance
to the tune of her
scintillating giggles?

She's all the fairy tales I heard
enacted in front of me.
Looking at her speak
 is like watching
a Star Wars movie
When I'm stoned.

A Word of Caution:
Listen not to her words.
It's seductive and sublime.
Mesmerizing and magical.
but don't daydream.- She'll be
married and gone too soon.

Her oscillating earrings
now taunts at my tale.
Every story has two sides- but
an invitation card
and an obituary
don't go together.

Saravanan

 Symphony of the Soul...

As I unravel the complexities of life
Slicing My Self piece by piece
What remains of it,
puzzles me.

As I go down the memory lane,
Brooding over the past event by event
What reminds of it,
Fills me with guilt.

As I walk the lonely road,
Thinking through possibilities one by one
What I see,
Haunts me.

As I kill a part of me- every day,
I resurrect thought by thought
To reconstitute myself:
Micro-deaths day by day!

The Ghost of Yesterday,
The Bedaal Today
And the Unknowable devil
On its way!-

Pushed by the Past,
Dead and gone;
Driven by the Present-
here and now;

Dictated by destiny,
Whose time is yet to come;
Interspersed is me, tuned up
to the temporal matrix of time.

Over the burdensome memories
of the bygone days
away from the gripping reality
of the gravitating contempo;

Sings a song,
the soul of mine.
for things to come,
down the line.

How can I tell you that
My Consciousness is but,
A day-to-day composition of
The daily music of life?

Saravanan