Wednesday, June 3, 2009

A lady who lived.....

As every media space is filling with the tribute and memories of Kamala das, I'm know I'm not the right person to write about her with my limited knowledge.

Yet I want to make a personal tribute to her. Let me admit at first instance itself that I know her just only through her 5 books. But still the Madhavikutty I felt and understand was the most mesmerizing personality.

The first work of her I came across was " Nashtapetta Neelambari" - a short story collection. It left me amazed like a day-old child looking aghast into the new world. In fact, it was a new world- one in vivid colors in darker shades. Her words were so alive that I felt sure that even after years,when anyone turns over the page, they could smell the wetness of her ink.

Her "Ente katha" (My story) was the most precious Birthday gift I have ever got. Then there was her "Neermathalangal Poothapol" and "Balyakalasmaranakal" which takes us back to our childhood. But the most striking work of her for me was "Chandanamarangal", which portrayed the relationship between women in a every beautiful way.

Though her works were highly criticized , I felt it to be one with filled with passion and truth. The way she narrates without polishing it with hypocrisies captures my heart. I too wished to stay awake and know the smell of the nights with all its jasmines and 'gandharajans'....

Leaving the cloak of writer apart, I felt she is one of the beautiful women I have seen. Morevoer she was a woman of passion. May it has added to her beauty. To quote herself a woman would be most beautiful when she is in love or is being loved. She was indeed beautiful until the last moment.

During her last days, she repended that she had written in malayalam. but i felt it to be our luck to be able to read her in the language of her heart. nothing could be as intense as that.

As the first drop of monsoon pelts down the earth, she lays there dead beneath the mahagony tree. But still stay alive in many a heart reminding us the tale of a lady who really lived...

Monday, June 1, 2009

An evening

I stood there silently watching the setting sun. It is better to say that something has silenced me from within. I gazed on the golden waves, breaking into the silvery froth erasing the footprints just like the hands of time that sweeps away memories. The sand castles lay abandoned like broken dreams. I don't know the reason why even a single grain of sand churns me within.

I love these evenings... more than the freshness of mornings, the tiring ache of the evenings fondles me. With a sleepy eyes, I like to watch the sunsets while my naked legs are washed cold by the waves. I like the way salty breeze plays with my hair.

Sometimes a mad feeling takes over my tired body. I wish to wall straight into the bossom of the sea. I wish to be a part of its depth, want to be a drop of blue.... a tiny droplet that can fly up to the sky when the sun shines hot. Then I'll be a part of that beautiful sky , floats away like a puffy cloud.....far away to unknown land. The setting sun has painted those clouds violet and rose. I just laughed away my crazy thought.

Slowly i sank to the cooling sand. As the coolness of the ice cream melted down my throat, I looked up the sky again. Stars has started popping in. I imagined myself in a Planetarium, all set for the show. My ears longed for the cold booming voice of the commentator. But the rustling of kites wake me up from the half-dream. Only a few remains floating against the darkening sky. A few hours back, the blue sky seems to be exploding with colours. tiny dots of blue,green,rose, violet, gold, silver were drawn by the numerous kites. But now, like an old lady, beach is deserted except 4 few dreamers like myself.

yes, i just sat there, filled with an unknown melancholy , but yet happy to be alive