Translated from the Tamil by Deepalakshmi J
The nights are getting barren,
difficult to tolerate for more than a few days or a week
The heart craves a memory, good or bad; to rejoice or grieve about.
Dreamless nights dry up like dreary deserts.
A Tiny World
It’s an enchanting experience
trying to pervade into a child’s world.
There is but one slight glitch, though.
In an exercise that calls for no pretense or poise,
you could get kicked out at any moment,
and you’d be none the wiser about it.
The Agony Of Rebellion
Soaring to find new heights,
The bird fights the hard menacing clouds;
As a sharp edge sears its wings,
The rainbows get the eighth hue of blood.
These tears and despair
do not seek your repentance or hurt.
Leaving your remorse behind,
touching none of my pains,
wilfully make space to breathe.
It’s been a while since childhood paid me a visit
In a house filled with darkness,
Nights robbed of sleep,
All I get to read all night
Is what I borrow from the bedroom window
The sky and a couple of roguish stars.
Lost direction amid incessant rains,
Framed by the bus window I’m seated at,
my memories falter and become paintings.
Wet trees cross by as I sit and wipe out
memories of yours etched on my body,
waiting with hope for rainy nights
that bring no trauma and no memory.