Ode to Those Bottles

Thrissur Bottles:
I kept all safe and clean:
Arranging on the windows:
Keeping under the cots:
Pouring in Water to Re-Use:
on Sale, I just got 4 INR per bottle.

Bangalore Bottles:
Be it was Mallya's Brand Collections:
And Local Branded Beer Collections:
When Sold in Sacks,
Just Got Few INRs again.
May be 3 INR per bottle.

Boston Cans and Bottles:
Filled up those in Polyethene bags:
And filled the Sedans boot space with those:
Again, I just got few little less bucks.
May be 1-2 USD.

Misunderstanding was mine:
Its not the bottles which is expensive, You Fool, Gyp,
The Spirit inside that is the expensive stuff:
Freedom is that to make the bottles:
Spirit Freedom is not allowed for humans:
All globe is like that, isnt it ?

You can just learn Distillation in Chemical Engineering
To score some marks in Papers:
Thats all. 

anOddtoCoders

anOddtoCoders

pleaseWhenYouComeUpWithNewDesigns
letTheWorkerKnowWhatToDo
withoutSpendingHoursOnIt
pleaseChangeTheory
orAdmitItIfProvenWrong

k for ....

an odd to K.

remember when we were young?
that i called u k ?
just to make sure what i call u
reach u everytime i do so

and everytime i want to see u
i use to say k.

when others said they loved u
when others said its a sister brother relation:

i had the balls to say:
u r k.
ok?

theory of k
=========================================
k for kafka
k for mister k
k for amerika
k for ...
k for .. rammstain amerika
k for .. kafka amerika


theory of life
=========================================
live and let live
at times massacre and claim

aLovelyLadyLumps

a lady who was defeated by both imperialism as well as communism and male chauvanism.
after she hugged me, i asked her:
what is ur name:

she said: i am angel.
that i understood.
ur real name.

talk with my mom:
they named
me angel.


oh! so nice.
surname ?

angel sings:

how lovely and butiful u r.

love. its a selfish stupid non eatable.
nobody loved me.


even my country ppl. neither anyone else.
i dont like me.


i live alone.

which country u r from?
cambodia.
she said.


where is cambodia in the map?
btwn india and china.

but am neither indian nor combodian.




i have no place to go.
i am just i.

i hate mirrors.


--thanks.
--i love u too.

few deconstruction theories about mm papers

few deconstruction theories about mm papers
================================

am trying to say few words:
which i cudnt stop putting in.
malayalam and manorama are two different things.
it shud be two.

i wish so.
for eg, malayalam is a butiful different weekly,
who knows art
and malayalam belongs to a butiful family where
we had all kinds of caste,creed,sex and life.

if we are looking for better circulation,
i wish the paper was managed by the ruling party/
government.
if a paper is biased 
and we have Njournalists working in it

which is still an iconoclaustic
branded world

we are spoiling the economy,
we are spoiling the country.
we are doing massacres, silently

wish u cud be the change.
wish i cud envisage u
by a buzz.

ATrainTripFromThrissurToKottayam

(xviii)
after the day we broadcasted the study
on sci fi movies
we left together

in venad, from thrissur till kottayam

she said she'll be happy if i were there
with her in the travel

and even said,
will sponsor my entire trip, too.

(xix)
more than happy, i turned to be
she being a beautiful lady
sponsoring a trip
from thrissur till kottayam

and can spend quality time too.

with the background music of the
train itself

kachak kachak
kachak kachak
kachak kachak


(xx)

And we started together, so
as promised, she stayed very closer to me

kachak kachak
kachak kachak
kachak kachak

and she told
she liked being with me
she enjoy the moments we spend together, too

(xxi)
in the train we played a game
of hide and seek
sort of fits into that particular occassion:


she'll call out a camaflauged word
and i shold find it out:

i loved the game:
i'd played this game with a cousine
sister of mine
who had eloped with an islam
when life became so miserable for her

i felt the game so naustalgic too.

(xxii)
somewhere among the locusts, dust and the wind
there lies a word
sounding like 'mukkaala mukkaabula'
she will call out:

and it was my task to figure out
where is that
mukkaala mukkaabula,
oh laila, oh laila

(xxiii)
kachak kachak
kachak kachak
kachak kachak

(xiv)
when the train reached periyaar,
together, we sat on the side door

togetherness felt.

she wore the dark yellow salwaar
and had a special smile on that day

and we sat together
above the river of aluva, periyaar
and we flew together afterwards,
for a while

(xv)
she was laughing
like a tree laden with flowers
onto which
occasionally a birdie came in

a bee for bobbee too,
to such a lot off honey
out of a lovely one


(xvi)
contemplating,
i realized,
might be this is just fantasy

or will it be the real life too fancy ?
just like this ?

is she gonna stay ?
or gottogo ?


(xvii)
no more co-nte-mpla-ting

i revealed, i am a smoker
i am a drunkard
i am a social nuisances, a psychopath
i am a saddist
i hate myself

now tell me:
believe me, after the conf meeting in the room,
the floor was covered with smoked cigarette buds
that none was able to walk thru

(xviii)
with glittering stars in the nooks of eyes:
she told:

i dont know
might be
this is just fantasy
this is not real


and there is nothing which aluva river too
changambuzha was just eccentric
over another peg of russian vodka

(xix)
on the return trip
we were not together
we made sure we were not together

in the same train, bus, car or aero-plane.

(xx)
on the aisles of college too
we made sure
seldom the trajectories
crossed

and seldom we exchanged
even assignment papers

(xxi)
but i caught you once
when you were staring at me

during an electrical lab exam

in which we were doing the same
experiment

(xxii)
but you won

iForgotThyName

(i)
First time when you came in
To meet jetterson,
I was hiding in the restroom.

Wasn't able to contain the fact
A keralite jobless-job-hunting youth turned whore
visiting jetterson

that too in my apartment.

(ii)
i was able to hear your sobbs,
even from the restroom.

i deciphered,
beyond sex, you wanted red boiled rice, fish curry
and might be a banana.

and might be an yellow ripen banana.

but jatterson bought you stale chappathees:
and a pint of old port red wine:
to intoxicate you:
and to have you intoxicated:
to eat you alive:
to see you:
to massage ur whole body intoxicated and hot:


my veins were vibrating:
but i didnt have the courage:
to meddle into jettersons room
and buy you boiled rice, fish curry and a banana.
an yellow not so riped but banana.

(iii)
i thought about a village whore in my hometown premises:
and her daughter who was a friend of mine:
i reckoned she liked me a lot
and used to come to me
though my pappas used to hush her out
as though she was a stray dog.

but still she came.
and whenever she saw, smiled a sad sweetness with dreaming eyes, from distance.
gold.

(iv)
second time when you came for jetterson
he wasnt there.
myself and phantom only.

you sat very next to phantom.
you guys rubbed shoulders while watching rodies on tv.
and you massaged phantom's legs as though
nothing has changed in the world.

phantom was shocked.
but you were right i felt.
nothing has chagned in the world.

my veins were reverberating:
to meddle into between you and phantom:
and get massaged for ever
and ever.

(v)
the next time before the day you came
for the menaced phantom,
again i was talking to the match stick boy
who bought four wheeled happiness few beeks before:
he was all set to carry a lady:
a whorest kind of forest.

and you came the time when it rained in june
very close to the heavy rain falls.
without an umbrella
totally washed
you came in.

like a washed water color painting.
your very light, light, sweet whiskers
glittered.
they were very sweet.
match stick boy told me.

my veins enthralled:
they all wished together
to meddle into match stick boy's
car
and i wish to fly with you
to a place where nobody else will come up.

alone. with your whiskers.

(vi)
the next time you came for match stick boy

He wasnt there
I was alone.

My veins were resonating:
To get into you !

You came to me:
sat next to me:
And smiled.

But nothing I saw in BFs happened.
nothing like that at all.

you kissed my forehead.
and you sobbed again.
tears flew through your whiskers,
like a colorless water drop flowing through a painting:

you cried out loud:
i bought you boiled red rice:
fish curry:
and lemon pickle:



and we smoked
a low brand tobacco beedi:
i made rings:
u made bigger rings:
my rings swallowed your rings:
your rings swallowed mine:
at times they were congruent too.
like those circles of AnB or that of BnA

(vii)
and you left us.

(viii)






and i too left us.

(ix)
what was your name ?