In your dreams you had wings, butterfly wings, wet whispers emerging from a cocoon. In your nightmares you fell, wings aflame like the painting you saw made in memory
of Hiroshima. In my life, you blazed. The smoke of your wings brought water to my eyes.
Akka Mahadevi (ಅಕ್ಕ ಮಹಾದೇವಿ) was a prominent figure of the VeerashaivaBhakti movement of the 12th century Karnataka.Her Vachanas inKannada, a form of didactic poetry, are considered her most notable contribution to KannadaBhakti literature. In all she wrote about 430 Vachanas which is relatively fewer than that compared to some other saints of her time. Yet the term 'Akka' (elder Sister), which is an honorific given to her by great Veerashaiva saints like Basavanna, Chenna Basavanna, Kinnari Bommayya, Siddharama, Allamaprabhu and Dasimayya, speaks volumes of her contribution to the movement that was underway. She is in hindsight seen as a great and inspirational woman for Kannada literature and the history of Karnataka. She is said to have accepted the god Shiva ('Chenna Mallikarjuna') as her husband, traditionally understood as the 'madhura bhava' or 'madhurya' form of devotion.
Born in Udutadi (or Udugani) near the ancient city of Banavasi (in Shikaripura taluk Shimoga district). She was born in 1130CE and lived until 1160. She worked for the welfare of women.
She is Kannada’s first female poem writer (poetess).
don't despise me
Don't despise me as She who has no one I'm not one to be afraid, Whatever you do. I exist chewing dry leaves. My life resting on a knife edge If you must torment me, Chennamallikarjuna, My life, my body I'll offer you and be cleansed.
Lately death seems to be all around, not that it had ever stopped
being around, but somehow it seems to have gotten more intimate. In my
closet, in my coffee, in my bathroom, in my garden, in my hair, in my cat, in
my cuticles.
Post my father’s exit in 1989, a
button of unattachment attached itself on me. This button lacked a
control button. It was like death itself. Always hovering.
And when Shivraj died, he killed whatever life i had residing in me.
When i say life i mean the emotion of life of holding on to dear life.
The silly notion of "forever" built with others, with platinum
rings, with infinity symbols inked on our hearts. The silly notion of
making “alone” a state of patheticness (yes I know that’s not a word.) But are
we really capable of loving anyone beside ourselves? and is that so wrong? Is
life only marked by the physical presence of loved ones?
The idea of going thru the rest of my journey like a dead person
seems to be the greatest gift of all. To see the beauty in living life
unattached, unattainable, unavailable; to live life like a dead person and feel
the most alive.
Who will guard your life? Corpse chaser… Mouth to mouth Resuscitation U wave your hands The dead are ....blind You scream for help The dead are ....deaf You kick the sea in panic The dead are .....dead You float in serenity The dead join u Mouth to mouth Elbow to elbow Pinky to pinky Forming a dead horizon The livin watch from shore
Dead Inside.
my mommy sings
me a lot of songs ..
wish she ..
didn't
my bother tells
me a lot of things ..
wish he ..
wouldn't
my cat purrs
me a lot of complaints ..
wish he ..
couldn't
my daddy left
me a while ago ..
wish he ..
hadn't
Amnesia was doing good all weak. She tripped over things, took walks down memory lane, rode into the sunrise, stumbled on building blocks and forgot everything the next day.
Reality continued playing his song, luring her, seducing her. She liked him. Or thought she did. But forgot about him the next day.
His story was nothing new I guess to most working in the “bizz” but to me, was quite repelling. One day, he said, he was sitting in the editing studio working on a project when his assistant informed him that someone had come to see him and were quite insistent that they see him. He told his assistant to tell them he was busy but They refused to leave. So he walked into his office to find a mother with her very young daughter. By young I mean a 15-year young.
He didn’t know them and was rather uncomfortable especially when the “youngen” barely had any clothes on and more makeup than any “lakme” print ad. He tried to get to the point immediately but the narrator wouldn’t let him. He fumbled with his pen and dropped it a bunch of times, picking it up only to drop it again. His disturbed mind accepted defeat and sat in his chair as the narrator continued with the spoken word…
Big girls don’t cry
Page three people don’t lie…
In bed
With their standby
Sweet girl aged 15
pimped by her mother
“compromise and you’ll get there
sweet daughter”
“compromise” she said
when she came to his room
‘compromise’ I was told
is the secret ingredient in this perfume
three buttons undone
lipstick lips locked in fear
can I be your alibi?
I promise not to spy
Just wanna hang around
Like your neck tie
Thrown nearby
Afraid of being caught of secretly enjoying the attention, he walked out abruptly. His well-trained assistant asked them to leave politely. The “youngen” seemed scared; as if she had failed an exam and was gonna get her ass beat. The mother, a woman on a mission, seemed even more determined. They left. Only to come back at night. He was still in the editing studio. They knew that. That’s where they went….
things are different now
they say
the couch does not exist
this incident happened yesterday
he could not resist
The “youngen” was cast in a commercial, and then another. And then came many another’s. The man was quite smitten. It was apparent….
marry me he said
in a moment of passion
Oblivious
to his wife and kids at home
“compromise is all I’ve been taught sir”
she rationed
The Narrator was on the floor, rolling with laughter. As if he knew the outcome before the story even began…He has no mercy! The “youngen” moved on to other editing studios. The mother spent most of her time at the jewellery store. The man, well, went back to his wife and kids. The sad part being that they took him back.
things are different now
they say
the couch does not exist
this incident happened yesterday
he could not resist
“Don't compromise yourself. You are all you've got.” Janis Joplin
In your dreams you had wings,
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