Visions of foliage, lush, verdant
When dried leaves crunch below
My weary feet, as I trudge along
In the silver shadows of alone
Seeking solace, a hand to hold
In the woods of life, worn-out, old
The end in sight, yet so distant
Shadows of alone
Tag: Lonely
Nightmares
My dreams serenade
The ghostly guard
In the vanishing distance
Darkness emerges
From behind auburn veils
Of a lonely sunset;
Lovers of the night
Twist and slither
In serpentine glee;
I wake up flushed
Burning from nightmares
Crawling on my cold skin.
Book Review: Displacement and Desolation in Perumal Murugan’s Characters
When you don’t feel belonged, you are isolated, lonely, and then the voices in the head become larger than life, and the fine line between the real and the perceived diminishes.
The short story is a strong but difficult medium. In many ways it is more potent than a novel because it can leave an impact with few words, consuming little time. An observant writer can concoct many stories using everyday themes and images, telling extraordinary tales about ordinary people, evoking emotions and reactions from a diverse readership. In the preface to The Goat Thief, prolific Tamil short story writer, Perumal Murugan, talks about his own tryst with the skill of story writing and how he came to evolve his own style and rendition.
The Introvert Gene
As a loner, I have difficulty in connecting with people. I am the one you will see sitting alone in the cafeteria reading something or the one who refuses to take a walk in the park because there is a book or a craft waiting at home. I have few friends and I just don’t beam into a smile when seeing strangers/neighbours. I am cautious in my dealings and wary in my relationships.
At my new home, I haven’t as yet explored the entire space – the parks, the club, the pool! I look at people huddled in groups chatting away and I almost panic. I fear the small talk and the fake smiles, I fear the comparison or the show off, the condescending and the patriarchal, the overambitious or the downtrodden. I fear of being swamped by energies that I don’t need in my life. Maybe my fears make me lose out on some good contacts but then this is just me.
Continue reading “The Introvert Gene”
Blue Pen Strokes 