g's world

I spread out in peace, basking under the generous ray, that lights my world to sweat. I lie down on a pile of fragility just like my journey under the yonder, shattered yet ploughing through. The green shelter upon my head, is my faithful company every noon, after the sumptuous meal I digest. Though with crevices, a thousand, darkens my day, soothes my tanned cloak. Ah! the appalling breeze, at these fantasy glassed shops, tantalizes my spirits to work hard. Yet I get, the hot wind , sprawling through the naked streets, parching my throat off my last quench. After the short nap, I waddle onto the deranged streets, pedalling hard among the buzz to bring to an end, another day of struggle, to wrap and shelter, to quench and nurture. Photo Courtesy:  Ramaswamy Nallaperumal, chennaidailyfoto

I have something to tell you when you glade through the wondrous yonder strewn with shining speckles I have something to tell you when you glide through the deepening waves as they delve toward the main I have something to tell you when you rot and drop down from the abode of your kin I have something to tell you when you slither onto the coarse sand into the world underneath. I have something to tell you when you bask under the shine as you munch stacks of gold. I have to tell you something as you guffaw in delirious tones when the silver ball rises into the dark I have something to tell you as you swiften gracefully with your magnificent feathers arched wide I have something to tell you when you hop into your tiny hole with your furry paws in fear I have something to tell you as you open into your world afresh every day as you wake up from your slumber. Yes, You! I have something tell you all, that no

                            It was a lovely morning when I boarded the train from the Mambalam station; I purchased a ticket and took a seat in the partly filled vendor compartment. As usual vendors of every type advertised their pens, cucumbers, colouring books and guavas. I bought a packet of peanuts and started munching away to pass the time. I was half-asleep and lolling on the metal wall of the train when I heard tapping sounds in a rhythmic wave. I sleepily gazed around the compartment to find out the source of such noise. I found a woman who clad a ragged sari tapping a vessel with a wooden stick. When I looked at the center of the compartment, there was this girl who was no more than five years old somersaulting, dancing and doing other sorts of tricks with a small iron ring of her size. As the tapping ended, she ran to her mother to collect the vessel and came over to the passengers to beg for money with her infantile voice struggling to complete her words. As