Desperation

ONE

Palming the ice creams straying over tray,

Apportioning the splitters, splashing away

And whiling the time thus in unknown way.

Disgraces grow like dung heaps where beetles

Crawl like tanks in arid sandy dunes,

Stared down by palms, not winking in breezes

But standing stern like rocks on hills.

TWO

Mysteries deepen, not unravel

Into depths and abysses

Creating black holes of fears unfathomable

And sucking splinters and chisels, all.

THREE

Chickens roost and foxes keep watch

And deserts spew up water and seas thirst.

The present is for wolves and wild dogs

Poor man to wait for new dawns.

FOUR

Protons and electrons burst,

Quarks fly helter-skelter

As products of wombs are hurled up.

Conveyances take the hesitant to lands strange

And meetings are partings.

War is peace and hatred is love

Smile is toxic and touch is fatal

Everything crumbles, crumbles to dust

 

(c) James Thanickan 13 September 2009

 

Good Morning

 

The sun opens his lids
And the day spreads its kindness
Pushing the murk of night back
But my heart thumps and  thumps
I know not why. Yet yearn I to say
Good Morning to you all, dear chums

 

(c) James Thanickan 28 Oct 2009

 

SEVEN YEARS

 

Seven years, seven long years

Struggling, kicking, loping

Seven years, war of seven years

That brings peace, serenity and joy

At the end to the haggards.

Seven years on, seven miles by

From toddling and toothless chuckle

From namby pamby to cradle

To swing and looking whack

All the best, all the glory

You, seven year brat that I can wish.

 

©James Thanickan 26 October 2009

 

JOHNY

 

The result of a May Day Labour

A person of courage and candour

He hit the road long ago with free hands

Traversed through places and lands

With a satchel on his shoulders, in Tamil lands,

Pre-Modi Gujarat and JNU, that forte of leftists

Found his feet in the southern fort of leftists

And finally find solace in the foothills of High Ranges

 

© James Thanickan 1 May 2009

 

Persephone[i]

 

I know you are there, across Acheron[ii]

Then why do you remind me often

That you are there on the other shore

Waiting with the kiss for ever?

 

Jealous paramour that you are

How can I forget the chum of my yore?

I have not bathed in Lethe[iii]

Nor drunk Nepenthe.[iv]

 

Days that now asunder your

Sneaky visits are fewer, impatient that you are,

Each time you hold me closer than ever

Lest I return to my beloved faster.

 

My stay here is at your will

Know you not it so well?

Packed the cases are, yet hasten not Charon[v]

For Penelope[vi] also has rights of retention.

 

Hotel Majestic, Provorim, North Goa

5 April 2008

 

---

[i] Greek goddess of the under world

[ii] A river in Hades across which Charon ferried souls

[iii] Another river in Hades, a dip in which makes the soul forget the past life

[iv] A drug of forgetfulness mentioned in the Odyssey of Homer

[v] The boatman of Hades who ferries souls across the Acheron

[vi] The faithful wife of Odysseus.

 

Little Gabriella

 

One

 

Ere time began, thy silky silvery light smooth

Filled my heart with peace and joy aplenty.

In the consummation of time, thy desire, my law, sent me forth

In thy mission, promised, of love and redemption.

 

Two

 

Travelled thy emissary to corners four,

To arid deserts and lazy green pampas;

Voyaged across the seven seas grand,

And ascended frigid mountains, deaf and dumb.

 

Three

 

Much have I strived and toiled endless days,

Speaking thy words taught to beings luminous

Before man made a habit of harsh words

And, inflicting on the unwary, cruel deeds.

 

Four

 

Seasons and ages passed; galaxies born and died;

Black Holes gravitated and Red Giants shrunk;

Species and varieties evolved and vanished;

A dull grey is all that remained of the dappled Bang.

 

Five

 

Words have lost meanings; messages are mere words.

Lambs mewl for food; lions roar the war thunder;

Abels are slaughtered; wombs are torn;

Peace remains a far cry and happiness an elusive dream.

 

Six

 

The raven opens its beak;

My wings are glued tight;

And legs cannot hold; nor do head spin not.

Lord, failed as I have, take me back.

 

(c) James Thanickan 23 May 2008, Trusteeship Council Chambers, UN Headquarters, New York.

 

Light from the Wick

 

The evening breeze grazed me gently,

The fragrance of chameli  wafted around,

The chirping of the little sparrows greeted me

And the stream down sang a mellifluous song.

Still, lost in a dream I walked along the little path

That nature kept for its wayward children,

Knowing not where my steps take me.

 

The small hill across glided sideways

And I could see yonder a little wick

Swaying its flame in the waft

And a petite girl in a half skirt

Holding the lamp in her tiny hand

Moving slowly in front of her hut

Showing the glow to the four demons

Praying, “Spare my little house

Today and in the year long.”

 

Memories sweet and bitter heckle me:

Gone are the days when we burst crackers

And lit streamers to no end,

And ate sweets in mushy ghee,

And played around the big Neem.

 

Gone too are the days when we sat

Under the banyan and dealt in cards

And quenched the thirst with wine

To the music from the loudspeaker.

 

Memories are of days gone

And dreams are of days to come

When Now is what I have,

O, little maiden, will you show

The light to me

That I know where I go

When in turbulence?

 

© James Thanickan, New Delhi  7 November 2007

 

Callus on Heart

 

When marigolds bloom in my garden,

Or when wistfully smiles the coy little maid

Across the hedge, or when after work done

My hungry bulls relish the fodder field,

My heart does not leap up or thump down

For rusty callus covers it hard.

 

Time was there when angels smiled

On mother's face, and father's fingers led

Through the village path and paddy field,

And pretty mud cakes sister dear made,

And friends in score to play rolled leaf balls,

When my heart leaped up in joy.

 

Days had I to see when sun poured cold

And heaven's tears blazed hot

Like molten wax on butter rock,

When solid jade melted like snow clown;

And my heart thumped hard.

 

I have seen frost in burning summer

And fresh green in icy winter

And dry bones in torrential rain

And wet mushrooms in sizzling lane;

When my heart throbbed in pain.

 

Here where love turns frigid

And vile lust rules the beast,

Where to be civil is to be servile

And to smile is a flaw,

Callus on heart keeps the flow.

 

© James Thanickan, 30 September 2007, Hotel Lido, Geneva

 

Time Passes And Waits For None

 

 

Souconna flows to the sea and looks not aside

Till Oceanus meets her, caring not for Poseidon.

Cloud arises from the ocean and wafts to the mountain

Where he kisses the nipples of Ertha

And caresses her navel deep.

Fearing dark Geb's wrath,

Sophia's snarls and Gaia's moanings,

She snaps him with her flash.

Moving, he whispers in her ears

Time passes and waits for none.

 

© James Thanickan, 15 September, 2007

 

This poem is dedicated to Vijay Kumar, my long time friend, whose birthday falls today.

Notes:

Souconna is a Gaulic goddess of river

Oceanus is Greek god of ocean streams and fresh water rivers

Poseidon is also Greek god of ocean.

Ertha is Germanic goddess of earth

Geb is Egyptian god of earth

Sophis is Greek goddess of wisdom

Gaia is also a primeval goddess of earth.

 

 

Morta's Kiss

 

Death stands above me, whispering low

I know not what into my ear;

Of his strange language all I know

Is, there is not a word of fear.

Sang so Walter Savage Landor

Poet who thought of experience low

And knew not man from woman.

 

Morning breeze whispered in my ear

Death is like the air gone from a billow;

Evening gale thundered loud and clear

Death is the tapering of lightening.

Whom to believe is my dilemma;

All I know is, I know not from where

Comes she or where to goes the beauty,

But Morta plants a kiss stealthily

When one expects not, on old

And young, friend and foe alike,

And then it is time to bid adieu.

 

© James Thanickan, 13^th June, 2007, New Delhi

 

My Love

 

My love is not a red red rose

It is the thorn in the bush

That protects the red rose.

 

My heart does not ache for you

It beats ever and ever

In twain with the throbs of your heart.

 

My eyes do not long to see you

They are blind to all sights

Except the sight of you.

 

My ears do not wait for your voice

The sounds that they hear

Are only your voice.

 

I do not love you

There are no two, I am you and you me

That’s all I know and that’s all ye need to know.

 

© James Thanickan Valentine’s Day, 2007.

 

STORY OF A  TREE

 

How do I tell the story of a sapling

Grown out of a riverside seedling?

The music of gurgle thrilled her

The soft light of heavens sheltered her

The sand dunes smiled at her

From across the lilting paddy the zephyr

Greeted when daystar slyly eyed her,

And told stories of giant trees

Housing monkeys, and lithe palms

Where trilined squirrels moved freely.

The favonian whispered the vespera

And sang a lullaby about a teary lass

Who lived by a garden of jasmine.

 

II

How do I tell the tale of a young tree

Looking forlorn under Phoebus’ chariot?

The austral brought her news of flowers

Which bloomed at Jupiter’s bidding.

He did not know of any giant tree

Or of perky squirrels; the forsaken fields

He traversed were dry and parched.

 

III

How do I sing the dirge of a gnarled granny

Standing by the road alone and a river that was?

No draught wafted in telling of scenes far away

Or of golden fields by streams

Or of the music of sparrows and minas.

No traveller waited under her branches scrawny

And no school kid climbed her trunk tawny.

 

IV

Days pass away eating our sap

And taking music from the fields.

Never to return nor letting us pause;

Winds tell trees that story time is over.

Old are to die forlorn

New may not be born.

Silence of the still now for us;

Time has for ever the melody, amios.

 

© James Thanickan (conceived in IC 166 on 16^th March, 2007)

 

Freedom angel

 

Oh, you freedom angel

You hovered us for long

From times when hordes from East

Came with swords drawn

And fire in their eyes and poison in heart

Scorching our fields and our women,

Occasionally perching on branches,

Slippery and shaky, never settling.

Church bells chiming reassuring

By command of the maximus pontiff,

You heard and flew up

Striking squatters on branches

And peering into recesses dark

You speared the cowardly.

 

Scared you were when from the West you came

The king’s men with glasses  clanking

That was the last of our drinks

For a century and  a half, not ending

You flew away terror stricken

When we thought we were right

And all world wrong

Grief stricken years stripped us

Of our land and people

And then the tanks rolled from North

Our cries were smothered

And flaps of your wing

Not heard for decades

You are back, our hope

Our assurance, cover us

With your protective wings

From the heights of

 

I flow like water in a river

Not knowing whereto the river saunters

In its chartered course.

 

 

January 3, 2006.

 

 

Story of a Loam

 

The river in spate made me;

Silt and sand laid the base

Topped with soil rich.

Aeons I waited for the tiller

For the plodding of his hoe.

Flowers sprouted on the thought;

Butterflies zoomed around.

 

Ached I still for the plough

That would gently part me

And plant the seed for the future.

Suns umpteen heard my sigh

Heavens watered my clods for ages

Yet, came he not, came he not.

Desperate I longed for what I know not.

 

And then…

Then the sky darkened in mid-day

Bursting cloud, thunder and lightening;

I laid bare in hellhole shuddering.

Unknown hoe slogged; strange feet trod

And Hades took my sap away

Making me barren forever.

 

© James Thanickan. Conceived in flight No. 165 from Kochi to Delhi on 28^th January, 2007 and translated into words on 4^th March, 2007.

 

Story of the Tomb

 

Hark, hark, whispered the angel

Twit, twit, twittered the sparrow

Shoo, shoo, shooed the leaves

And why a murmur inside

Like in the days of rockiness?

 

The mason spoke about a noble

While chipping and chiselling me.

Others were also getting hewn

That the great might sleep in peace

For our hardiness only matched their rigidity

And kept their sins safe from poor.

Passers by said I looked fit for a king

And a thrill pulsed my veins.

 

Lying in wait watching the births and deaths

Of days and nights was my hobby.

Legions marched by me with slaves

And prisoners looking alike

With burdens weighty on their back.

 

That day it was too noisy

Afraid I was that sleeping souls

Had broken loose the lids heavy.

Shouted the well heeled,

Crucifige, crucifige illum[1] 

It was a long march.

 

The sky darkened early

The earth shook

The trees danced wild

Awful sounds were heard

And my lid was lifted.

 

My womb received

The Prince of Love

And pall of peace

Covered the Golgotha.

 

Why the poet sings early,

"The sun is rising and the nightingale

Is singing, and the myrtle is

Breathing its fragrance into space."[2]

 

 Why the commotion within?

Why the hark, hark again?

Who is lifting my lid gently?

 

What is this fragrance of light?

What is this radiance of myrrh?

Who is wafting away

Like the scent of a rose red?

 

Glances He back and raises his hand

To the Heavens and says, "It is done.[3]

You have happily your duty done

Peace and happiness to you my tomb.

Wish the world will receive me

Like you in your womb."

 

© James Thanickan, Easter 2007.

 

---

[1] Luke 21:23

[2] Kahlil Jibran

[3] Remember John 19:30

 

 

New Year 2007

 

An year goes, an year comes;

River flows to the ocean

Yet knows not the time

To meet the deep.

Life too streams in a vision

To meet Time

Yet knows not when.

An year goes, an year comes;

Have nice new dreams

To share with dear and near ones.

(c) James Thanickan, New Year 2007

 

TODA RABA

 Jesus event is a major turning point in the history of human kind. At Christmas time, we recall and relive that moment. It is also an occasion for retrospection and for renewal of resolutions. At the first Christmas, what could Mary have recalled?

 

Toda raba [1], you are here !

The long wait is over

Since the sheep of the slopes had whispered

In my ears and the doves had murmured,

And nodded in unison the flowers

Of Esdraelon valley [2] across the little path.

 

Waters of Quishon [3] streamed by

With stories of your coming

And the breeze of Nazareth [4] hill

Brought tidings sweet of you

Though in haze, for I knew  not

The radiance that you are now.

 

The day of betrothal passed by quiet

Like the winter fog over Judea [5 ];

And he looked nice and caring.

Sweeter was the furtive embrace

When the ewes looked the other way.

And then at Jebel [6] I met my Adam.

 

Dreaming of him that night

The sleep was different;

The archangel looked like him.

Did I hear some greetings

About you being with me?

How blessed I was that night!

 

Months of expectation;

The doubts and the whispers;

The times with my cousin;

The long journey to the city of peace [7];

All now behind; what matters is

You are with me, my hope and guide.

 

 

 

---

[1] ' Thank You' in Hebrew

[2] A plain at the foot of Lebanon range near Nazareth

[3] A river near Nazareth

[4] Nazareth seems to have got the name from N azara ( neser)  meaning shoot or flower

[5] Southern part of Israel

[6] Jebel es Likh is a slope on the north western boundary of Nazareth

[7] Jerusalem = the city of peace

(c) James Thanickan Christmas 2006

 

GRACIAS

 

Say gracefully gracias my friends vast

For the crimson dawn in the East,

For the auburn sun in the West.

When the clouds weep in torrents,

When the heart of Earth heaves up in waves

That sucks in thousands to the depths,

Say gracias, for know you not the reason;

Lurking beyond may be the wolf’s fangs,

Or in the dark alley the wily pig’s jaws,

Or around the corner the glistening blade,

That may slice the throbbing flesh.

A being expires, yet Life continues,

Moments strand into permanence.

Say gracias when you can,

Tomorrow Morta may kiss you.

 

© James Thanickan, Hotel Intercontinental, Geneva, 1^st December, 2006

Let  There Be Light

When dark clouds gather in the sky

When fierce storms lash the surface

When tornadoes swirl the sea

Let there be light.

When innocent devotees get butchered

When unwary shoppers get slaughtered

When tired travellers don’t get home

Let there be light.

When passengers in air get scattered

When trains collide and ships break

When buses fall in gorges

Let there be light.

When shells pierce bystanders

When children’s clothes get burnt out

When mothers’ breasts are torn out

Let there be light.

Here where hard is soft

Where dense night is day

Where hell is heaven

Let there be light.

Here where to speak truth is crime

Where to do favour is stigma

Where to be humane is weakness

Let there be light.

© James Thanickan, October 21, 2006, Deepawali day.