The Quote -

"Nope, I don't really have anything new to say. but then, I always have something amazing to tell about things that you already know!!"

-Muthu

Monday, September 24, 2012

Lyres of Lust - Poetry

The Snap-




The Poem-


  1.  


Plunderer unpermitted,
Her Surrender –
Pepper minted.
He escaped; with the loot;
Unscathed; his wicked suite;

Without even a trace;
He left, except;
She alone simmered; blushing;
Just for a few moments-
With the memory of his touch;


  1.  

Her warm lips; Indulgent sips;
Hot & wet; in bartered bets;
Lisps truncated; thy cusps violated;
Shudder & shiver; Blunder & shower;
Her warm lips; kisses; nips;

My eye lids close;
Darkness binds.
Blights-
Ten fingers blind;
Fumbling to find;
Thy elephant’s kind.
Nobody’s wiser; nobody cares;
When,
Her warm lips, in relishing zips,
Do care.

  1.  
Very few are thy flowers,
Their buds; Warm suds;
Sodden; unbidden;
Pardon; alone not ridden;
A binge in bed; a tinge of red;

In ecstasy they burst;
Blossoms & Bust;
Blooms in thirst;
Bits of Pollen; bits swollen;
Drips; drops; dew props of honey.
Very few are thy flowers,
That flower first;
& root last.



  1.  
Wine tasting; Thine lasting;
It’s Aroma arresting;
Relish riveting;
Each drop savored;
Each one love flavored;

Wine tasting; Fine yeasting;
A rare finesse;
Flair of rich ease;
Taste buds rejoice;
Chaste duds devoice;
Two cups together;
Wine tasting, in tether.



  1.  

The sax was played;
 In silence of sorts;
Notes of parts; Keats of tarts;
Held & sled; around thy bed;

Man & women;
Not in parts; not anymore;
Listen close; your ears might lose;
Their embers of melody;
& there lumbers a sweet parody.


Author's Note-

Writing poems about sex and lust in a covert way- in it subtle hints and shy words has always held my fascination.There is I think a sublime line between the aesthetically pleasing and the vulgar in such poetry. With the above poetry, I wanted to make my readers blush and feel warm with love at the same time. And hence I indulged in a tinge of wickedness in the simple lines of love. I leave the shrouded implications to your mind's child. I extremely enjoyed penning the above lines. I hope, you guys- have a pleasurable experience reading them.

Tamil Version of the poem-




Tamil is a beautiful language tailor made for writing poetry. It is the soul of my inspiration as a writer. You need not think in Tamil, words will flow unbridled, bumbling in fountains, simply if you love her, love Tamil. She will entice you with her teasing curves, those sonorous syllables, the fierce passion of her written embers. 

Like most of my poetry, my initial version of the poem was in Tamil and I roughly translated the same to English.(Since a direct translation would water down the poetic allure of Tamil.)

PS-

The second poem is a direct reference to the famous story of blind-men and the elephants. If you want to know more about the related story and the John Godfrey Saxe's Poem about the same, kindly visit the given link.

The fourth poem contains direct references to wine tasting. (Though in Tamil, the poem is primarily about how to serve is joy, rather than being served.)

It was quite a task translating the Tamil poems to English. I have taken poetic licence in the translation to keep the wickedness and the joy in the poem true to it's original. For, guys - who could read tamil, I would really like to know - how I have fared.

If you would like to read more poems penned down by me, kindly follow the link.

And finally, I would like to thank my friend Joy for suggesting the title to me and also, asking me to write the English versions of the poem in a more descriptive and elaborate manner so that it will retain the beauty of the Tamil version and do justice to the same. And I hope, you guys can enjoy the Tamil version of it too. 

Monday, September 17, 2012

Of tweets and quirky comments


Guys, a collection of my tweets -- A bit about Politics, some murmurings of love, with the ending touching- the usual satire and the rhetorical. Hope you guys, find the same entertaining. 


Politics

Pranab says-Some older people in politics should make way for the young. I say- Nice thought!! Who r U addressing to! Not yourself of course!

100 % of all MPs below age 30 -- in parliament are from Political families- Salam the next Generation of Indian Rulers- #SOS-India

What is Pawar’s favorite thing about both IPL & Politics - Power Play Probably #SOS

Indian Politics is but tight rope walking with all the innumerable tight ropes woven into a comfortable mat. No falling guaranteed. #SOS

In India, it’s mother tongue. After-all the father figures seldom speak. Don’t believe me #askSoniaJi #askmanmohanJi #really?? #saveIndia






Love

She blushed. A red tinge of quirk blossomed. Perfection felt inadequate. #short poem

Hope in love is a strange thing. It’s like during every last beat of your heart, it yearns for another one. #love #pain

The day says a lot about love. It starts fresh; warm- turns hot, sweaty and ends in a bitter sweet purple melancholy. #love #quote

Love is good for health - at least you have someone to kick some sense into U after your hangovers. :P #love

Her Smile was worth a million. But I never expected her to cash in- once I got hooked. #SOS #love #really??







Social Media-

Which crank discovered like in Face book. My friend just posted about his accident & it has 28 likes.  #assholes #SOS

#socialmedia #facebook = the new porn. Nobody seems to get enough of it.

#socialmedia & #facebook are lies you tell yourself that you are actually having a social life. #SOS #hardtruth

No, face book is not your close friend- you should not share all your shit with it. #really? #SOS  

Thanks to my married friends, who post their marriage photos online- I never get to shake of my impending sense of doom #bachelorLife







Sassy-

Girl... Do you believe in love at first sight or do I have to walk past u again? :P:P #SOS

Adultery is fun until caught pants down- Infancy is fun until we remained kid enough to have our pants down. :D #meaningfulshit #really??

Nowadays, I am not allowed to cook. Vegetables, my mother has declared have become too costly to waste on my experimentations. :P #SOS #really??

Of course, I want to offend you, make you to throw not just your shoes & slippers but anything I could sell at me- Thankyou #SOS #really??

The hot sultry summer sun is always my side –Gives girls’ ample reason to put some cotton, show some cleavage. #Blame it on the fact that I am but a male. :P



Author's note-

It has been quite a while since I last summed up my tweets and since I started tweeting after quite some time,  I penned down some 20 of my tweets that I thought were interesting. Guys, do let me know your thoughts. Cheers.

Also, for more shitty tweets do follow me @aarthycrazy.   

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Another love, lasting?? - A short story

The snap-




The fiction-


“So you loved her?”
“hmhm”

“And she loved you back??”
“hmhm hmhm”

“But it did not last!!”
“hmhm”

He took a deep drag at the cigarette hanging from ridge of his mouth reveling in its crisp vapors, sighed. “So good!!”
“Huh!!” he looked at him flabbergasted.

“Good….. Good for you!!” He blurted out, once again trying to empathize.
He started to laugh. “May be… May be not. But that doesn't really stop the pain. Does it?”

For once, his friend fell silent. 



Author's note-

I watched the movie- The swingers yesterday. I loved it. Its an awesome movie that follows a bunch of wannabe actors, their love lives and their careers. An honest depiction. No mushy stuff, just the bare truth. Do try it. And I was  inspired by the same movie to write the above short fiction. Hope you guys like it.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

The silent melody- A short story

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 31; the thirty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'Strangers in the Night'





The fiction-



A slow Jazz music filled the dead silence of the hospital, its melodious notes dragging their feet across the almost empty hospital corridors resonating with the dry lonely lights spaced uniformly across the length of the walkway. A few nurses who were going about their jobs stopped and listened not believing their own ears. A few patients who were still awake blinked stupidly wondering what the loud music was doing near the ward for terminal patients. It was then that Frank Sinatra’s lucid baritone started to croon the lyrics of his once famous song-

Strangers in the night
Exchanging glances
Wondering in the night
What were the chances?
We'd be sharing love
Before the night was through

The duty doctor who was finishing up his last rounds stopped in mid-step hearing the song. His own heart suddenly picked up speed and literally started to pound against his ribs, as he reversed his direction and started running towards the source of the sound. A few nurses and orderlies of the night shift were also rushing along breathless in the same direction.  The motley bunch of curious patients who had already gathered outside the room from which the music was coming moved away jerkily making may for the rushing mob all in their medical whites. Their panic stricken faces heaving up oxygen trying keep up with their plodding legs. A locked door shut from the inside of the room greeted them.

The doctor took control of the situation seamlessly, ordering an orderly to break open the door using the fire extinguisher hanging on the wall nearby. He then rushed to the window and peeked inside its crevices trying to grasp what’s happening on the inside. Someone from the crowd behind whispered “but the door opens to the outside….. How did he manage to lock it?  And from where did he get his stereo” Nobody had any answers. Just more questions that echoed in the hollows of their mind, the more important questions that they did not dare to ask aloud. What is he doing inside? More importantly what is he doing to her? Is he suffering a mental breakdown? It’s not something new to happen in the terminal patient ward but happening to him was quite a surprise. 

Dealing with cancer always gets to you, breaks you, makes you do crazy things. Seeing life ebb out of the one you love a single bit at a time with each and every passing day, with no way to stop it, counter it but to simply slow it, as they wallow in their own suffering, the empty words of faith falling meaningless in their darkening world. With too much hurt drenching them down, nibbling away at their edges, as they try to plod though life smiling, pain takes new meanings literally.  

“I see them” shouted the orderly breaking the door. “I see them. The door just gave a crack. I….” He paused with a pained voice and turned his head from the door looking up at the doctor “I think he is crushing her, suffocating her”. The doctor leaped to the door plunging his eye into the broken rift in the door. A few seconds stood sweating without the heart to pass on; together with the bunch of people standing around waiting for the young doctor to give his speak.

“Bloody bastard……. He is making her dance with him.” He turned around enraged and snatched the fire extinguisher from the orderly and started going at the door, all the while cursing mad.  “Bastard…. I told him. Fucking bastard….. I told him. She is too weak. She cannot take the strain.” Sinatra sang along ignoring him.






Something in your eyes
Was so inviting
Something in your smile
Was so exciting
Something in my heart
Told me I must have you
Strangers in the night
Two lonely people
We were
Strangers in the night




Pieces of wood, dust and broken strips of plaster flew in the air with each ram the door took. Plaster….. The fucker had used plaster, fucking plaster on the entire door to shut them out. And thatsealed the door leaving no weak or easy fracturing points. Soon the other orderlies joined in going at the door with everything they had. The door slowly started to cave in giving into the inhuman beating that it was receiving. Cracks slowly broke into rifts that started to fissure though the entire structure of the door. Someone shouted “we are almost there”. And then suddenly the door tore open.

And they rushed in, the doctor, the orderlies and the nurses spilling into the room each one spinning out of control rushing with the flow of the crowd, they saw one of the weirdest sights ever. An elderly couple slowly moving around locked in their embraces; her lanky figure with the flowing white hospital gown, himself suited up in his best threads; her bony hands clinging to his bosom; his arms around her, holding her with care as he dipped and moved her around to the warm and wafting melody. Her shriveled face looked satisfied, her eyes closed rejoicing the swing of the movement, the ease with which he held her, the love with which he moved her around, ever so gently and his burning eyes that betrayed his own pain, seeing her wince in distress with each and every turn, her frail figure going rigid in his hands, the few wisps of hair on her bald head, the occasional gasp when the stress and the pain are too much for her. Sinatra’s regal voice dived into the simple lyrics once again.




Up to the moment
When we said
Our first hello
Little did we know,
Love was just a glance away,
A warm embracing dance away.


“Ma….” Cried the doctor as he separated his mother from his father and set her on the bed. She looked exhausted, her lungs trying to breathe in gulps and failing, her pulse stammering erratically, her tiny body wrestling with the few drops of life left in her, she looked forlorn, expect for her eyes, her eyes that twinkled with a mischievous grin. She beckoned him to her and started to slowly mouth something. “Ma, don’t strain… please.” He whispered, his voice begging as he bent down to catch her words. Her flailing voice fluttered. “Don’t be hard ………. on your father. He could ……..” She paused thoughtfully and whispered with a mellow fondness “Never refuse me”


“Nurse, some help here…” He shouted as he started to treat his exhausted and ailing mother. He never noticed the single tear that raced across his quivering cheek.


The music still played, left unattended to in all the happening commotion and was painting bold strokes of intense love in the vibrating embers of air. Seconds slipped around, danced swirling into a few minutes.




Ever since that night

We’ve been together

Lovers at first sight,

In love forever

It turned out so right

For strangers in the night




He slowly walked to the door after treating his mother. His father was sitting on the bench outside the room staring into the dead of the night, alone with his own thoughts.

“How’s she?” he asked as soon as he saw him.

“Exhausted... completely” he paused sitting near him. “But okay..... She's okay”

His father let a deep breath out and closed his eyes. They sat there silent, lost in each other’s thoughts. Neither of them spoke. Neither felt the need to. They simply sat there sharing not just the space and the silence. The biting cold did not seem to bother them in the least. The song had finally ended.



Author's note - 

Thanks a lot to Sadiya Merchant, for introducing me to to Frank Sinatra's - Strangers in the night. I don't really know whether she was inspired by the song itself but I myself was. The song is going into my favorites. As for the story, I wanted to create one that would start and end with a single song, the song itself being an integral character of the story. hope you guys enjoy it.

I would severely recommend listening to the song and reading the story. The song itself is a statement of love, poignant, lucid and heart felt. Just close your eyes and listen to Sinatra creating the atmosphere of pure love and it's joy.  For more information about the song, kindly visit here



The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: 03