What foolishness you dear men, think of me, am a stick Mere pole, with no life nor living strength, but thy force; That you felt inactive, is my strength, me a poor branch of a tree, Cut apart and fell down, from its life, dried, and painted.
Its you, men, who hold me and keep me as your staff, Not knowing your own power and trust, within you, And its you, fix me and post me somewhere, you like, And apply your own force to keep me holding straight.
Am in your hand, and its you who make me move And make me act as per your own will and pleasure. As I can’t stand on my own leg, nor can I hold any one, But fall on one’s own feet, as me, if not in thy hand.
You mistake me as thy force and strength, to walk on And trust me more than your wife at home. True, I will do what you say with no hesitation or ill-will, As I have no soul to think, the right and wrong, unlike your wife.
Am sure, you lead me to the unknown paths, sometimes, That is not worthy and healthy, at this age, you fall down, Unnoticed, as blind by yourself, on trusting a lifeless staff, Rather than your kids, for whom, you laboured and saved.
Its you men, sensitive, keep on hoping, for a prolonged life, But not we, plants and trees, dreamt anything for future For us, future; a mirage – water slabs on hot summer soil, That will never happen, as we throw away, what we have.
Everything within our seed, the genetic truth, for our kids Life and growth; and we know, the science of love and life; No apple will sprout from a mango tree and no mango will Come out of an apple tree; no worries on seeds, we throw.
Look man, you have very few kids, but we produce hundreds From seeds, stems, leaves and roots, so nice, our offsprings For us, to finish our bonds and bondages at a proper time, Before we dry and fall, not to depend on someone, like you.
Ok, Dad, let me call you like that, as you hold me always Not knowing me, as handed over to you by your father, And for him, from his father that I am here in this family, For three generations, the only witness, knowing all of you.
Me your walking stick, trusted and kept close to you, to see The truth that you never trusted anyone, but me, that too To avoid a fall in the end, although liked to leap, once again From your youthful hills, filling imaginations of the past and jumped.
CP RAJASEKHARANBorn, in an Indian village, as the son of Purushothaman Nair & Parukutty Amma of Ernakulam dist. of Kerala state. Completed school education from the Govt. LP School, Nanthiattukunnam, Govt. High School, and SNV. Sanskrit High School, North Parur. Then graduated from the Government Sanskrit College, and did the post graduation from the University College, Thiruvananthapuram of Kerala University. Later received an additional degree in Education from the Govt.Training College, Thrissur of Calicut University.Associated with the Gandhian ideology and the Sarvodaya Movement ( prosperity and welfare for all ) of Gandhi Peace Foundation; and was elected as the leader of the children’s group, in the village, at the age of 13; and started participating in social activities from the very early age of child hood.Elected as the school leader, while studying in the 10th class of SNV Sanskrit High School. Started working with student union and elected as the magazine editor, arts club secretary, general secretary and chairman of the college union continuously in the college election of Govt. Sanskrit College Thiruvananthapuram, getting an opportunity to have active participation in the literary and social platforms of the student community, and attended student-teacher inter actions with the authorities and educational institutions throughout the college life. Staged the first play, at the age of five and started acting as a child artist in famous plays presented by the professional theaters of the state. Started writing scripts for amateur children’s theater groups at the young age itself, associating with various theater groups in schools, colleges and in the local arts-clubs and started publishing stories and poems in school-college magazines and local publications. The whole college life was spent experimenting with plays in the open theater forums, along with the professional actors and theater activists of the State, along with the literary and social activities, as a best student, an all-rounder. The Sanskrit education tempted to get closer with world classics and the college education in Trivandrum was an opportunity to have association with reputed professors and famous writers, who inspired reading books of great writers of the literary world ; it was from the college life, that the flavor of literature was noticed by the professors and was encouraged in that line. Also elected as the president of the Youth wing of Gandhi Peace Foundation of Gandhi Smarak, Thiruvananthapuram while studying for post graduation, that gave space and time to work for the poor and needy at a young age itself. Started the career as a teacher, in Kozhikode Sanskrit Vidya Peeth, Kallai Ganapath High School and Mavoor Rayon’s High School, teaching Sanskrit language and literature, and Indian philosophy; And started speaking on philosophy, aesthetics, and other social subjects, as an orator, all over the state. Studied English literature, philosophy, and psychology, in the mean time, by own effort, and took an additional Post graduate diploma in psychological counseling from the Kerala university to support the Radio - TV counseling programs. Conducting child, adult and family counseling, for the last 20 years, apart from the official assignments, working extra time, to uplift the mental faculty of the young people to get them motivated and to bring back them to the normal life by giving motivation therapy and psycho therapy, as a charitable free service, associating with hospitals and educational institutions and social organizations all over the State. One mobile phone is fully dedicated for public service and made accessible to all who need free help or advice or counseling of any sort ; and the very needy and poor who need personal help are treated and served at home. Started rescuing and rehabilitating, isolated and neglected children at home, giving confidence and living environment.Joined All India Radio with a career in electronic media and worked for Radio & TV, in various capacities from the post of Program announcer to the post of director of Radio & TV, serving 35 years, covering almost all states of India, winning national and international reputation in scripting directing and producing Radio & TV programs. Joining with radio profession, compelled to write and do productions with innovative ideas that could capture the listeners’ appreciation, as radio was the only entertaining media, then, reaching every home; And the first full-fledged, perfect play, '' Homam '' (The Oblation’ ) was broadcast, receiving much appreciation and then followed the broadcast and publication of a lot of creative works. Writing poetry, lyrics, musical features, documentaries and plays, became a part of the job and then the creative writing was flourished by publishing articles, columns, poems, stories and plays in various newspapers from 1976 onwards. The first book, (Three Old Men) published in 1986, on the old-age agony, received the Literary Academy Award of the State, and followed by other awards and reputation, as a well-established dramatist and poet. Received Kerala Sahithya Academy Award, Kerala Sangeet Natak Academy Award, State Television Award, Akasvani National awards (10 times) Best Public Service Broadcaster Award of India, and International Radio Nomination from Iran etc.. After retiring from AIR, invited bi the Indira Gandhi National Open University to be the Station Head of its Broadcasting wing for 5 years and then served as the Editor of a Malayalam News paper, ''Suprabhatham'', for one year. Presently working for the Sangeet Natak Academi, Delhi, as the Tagore National Scholar, preparing a unique Encyclopedia on the performing arts of India, under the Tagore National Fellowship scheme.
Tonight the nectar will be spread to tame a random tormentor. Black and white, I never saw my father weeping. Lonely he was. I am my own creation today weather beaten. Confession to – confession, unread. When the- storm was
you hear voices through the veins of unearthed societal rampage a whole host of angels driving us forward filtered through the solace of my mind the tempter deals in the fade to black notion of reality we swerve to release
It crashed like a chandelier my dream. Becoming wet, into unhealing existence. I was expecting a landfall by burst of flames. Grieving for a lost generation, a meaningless exit from the stage of bites and suffering. Can you reverse this
Walking by the path, walking by the street I met many people who told me I was sweet. They walked with me a few miles, praising me all the day, We walked through the woods and fields green, talking all