Roller coaster.

Tired of this game.

Tired of knowing and accepting.

The callous feeling that lever leaves,

is swallowing my heart as a whole.

Life was never better literally,

it was this dark room,

that can be only lit by lights

and not with sunshine.

And the pain has its ways,

of chewing,bitting,crushing..

and chocking, supressing, killing..

and never letting go.

some days are cruelly fictional,

a happiness that wanes,

a love that would fade.

I'll be at the top of the ride.

This damn roller coaster,

and I've stopped screaming.

It won't stop soon.

I know.

I should jump.

The vishu from my childhood.

For those who doesn't know what Vishu is,

Vishu is the Hindu new year festival celebrated by people of Kerala(India), which comes on the 'medam' month of the malayalam calendar(April 14th). The day of Vishu is initiated with the prosperous 'Vishu kani', the first thing to be seen in the early morning, in which the enriched fruits, vegetables,money and gold are kept along with the God Krishna. It's for the rest of the year to be like the Vishu kani; prosperous and blessed by the God. Then there will be 'Vishu kaineetam' , when all the elders present the younger ones with little amounts of money. Then at noon, there will be a delicious feast called 'Vishu sadhya'. Totally the Vishu day is supposed to jinx the rest of the year with its prosperity.

Vishu was the best part of my childhood. When I'm writing this down, just the day before Vishu I feel nostalgic about my childhood but more than that I'm deeply saddened by the fact about how time had changed this beautiful festival into a dull and spiritless one. I wonder about the irrefutable huge loss for today's children.
I know they don't even know what they are missing.
So I'm electronically documenting the warmth of those days for the future and the present and for the childhood I miss so badly.

When the school closes after the horrible annual exams by the end of March, I usually dump all the books in a corner and get rid of the school vibes initially, chanting to myself,
"I'm a Freeman finally."

Fantasizing about the cool things to do in the 65 days of summer vacation, the first thing that come across my mind is enquiring about the arrival of my cousins. Although I've 5 cousins and my brother sticking around for the entire vacation, the partner in crime trio includes my best cousin Manikuttan, my brother Akhil and myself. In those best days I was like 10 years old where as Mani was 10.5 years old. Akhil was 4 years younger than us, so we consider ourselves as his intellectually superior bosses. Mani, who is the younger son of my Aunt is settled at Chennai. My grandmother used to say that we were besties since toddlerhood. Well, he will roll eyes at this comment now but still he is my best brother.

For kids Vishu is mainly about fire crackers. It's double the excitement for us because on the Vishu day, in our particular region alone there is a festival by the Lord Krishna temple. It's called vishuvela. We'll get to buy awesome toys with our kaineetam money from the festival.
Anyway, the first step of fun with firecrackers begins with buying cape guns and cape bombs. Cape is like this small explosive roll of paper commonly red in color, it is about 10 cm long and includes 15 shots. There are round peices with single shot of these cape rolls available for throw bombs. The bench mark of a well spent vacation with cape guns is having atleast 2 of them broken. We each used to get a box of caperolls with a 100 of them in number inside. There are little round peices of cape rolls specially made for throw bombs. We would divide ourselves into different teams and play as gangsters. It was so much fun, even the hottest afternoons of the garish summer didn't seem to bother us.


We would wander all day in cycles keeping the guns inside our pockets pretending to be invincible.
The next thing was paambu gulika which meant Snake pills, it's just black pill like firecracker which vaguely forms into a black snake like figure. Amma used to chastise me for making black marks on the courtyard with snake pills.

After two weeks of fun, there comes wonderful night of April 13th, when we buy the firecrackers for the Vishu morning. It's like the most awaited moment of the whole scenario, we would be so much excited when my dad takes us to a temporary shop set up just for the Vishu season. There will be safest and the favorite of the children, old people and couch potatoes firecracker which is called as kambithiri. Then there are the beautiful fire pots, fire wheels, the chain crackers, country's favorite crackers made of palm leaves called ola padakkam, little round bombs, brand crackers such as Lakshmi bombs, butterfly crackers, awesome rocket crackers, colourful Chinese crackers boxes, etc.
The night's sky would be bright with the colors of rockets and Chinese crackers with strong random ticking like sounds in the sky. The faint smell of explosives in the air. Courtyards of neighborhoods brightening up in the light of kambithiris and fire pots. Truly a magical time.


We would sleep early to wake early in the Vishu morning.

The elders would be busy on making the Vishu kani as it's the first thing that should seen on the Vishu morning. I remember that I was so sleepless due to euphoria of everything that will be happening on the next day and I would desperately wish the time to pass soon and let it be the morning soon.

Morning, around 5 o'clock Amma and acha would wake us with love by closing our eyes gently with their hands so that we don't accidentally open our eyes. They will walk us to the pooja room where the Vishu kani lies. From the aroma of the Jasmine flowers and the vishu's own flowers of golden shower tree, I could easily feel the diminishing distance to Vishu kani. When the palms slowly move apart, I could forever remember how my heart fills with lots of feelings I can't put into words. I would feel the warmth of divinity hugged by the unconditional love of my dad and mom.
The next 2 hours would be pure madness. Crazily happy with the fire crackers. When it's over, I could totally feel the weight of an entire year vanished into a new beginning.

Amma would begin her usual, go and bath soon. Go to the temple atleast today!!

Then it's the kaineetam time. I would count the collection a hundred times, the new crispy currency in the little Mickey mouse wallet. Still fresh in my memory.

We would chill out till evening having the delicious sadhya with the special dessert payasam. The Vishu special movies would be played on the television channels and we would decide the movies to watch before 3 days itself. I used to constantly get mad on the long ads In between the movies.

The poothan of poothan and thira

Vishu is also the time for a cultural art form called poothanum thirayum which consists of about 5 people. 2 persons play the music while the poothan and 2 thiras play their art form. Another art form is the puppet show based on stories from Ramayana or Mahabharata which will be played on special stage in the middle of vast paddy fields called as koothumadam. 

koothumaadam

Before the play or koothu begins there will be fireworks. When the fireworks start people would come from all over the villages. But what I love about this is, the person who makes the fireworks called kathinas does his work in front of my home every year. So we kids get a chance to watch him making kathinas all day long. We would ask him all kinds of stupid questions.

The evening of Vishu day was fully on festive mode. There will be music, elephants, big color full panthal and lots of small toy shops. Me and Manikuttan were really crazy about laser lights those days. So we bought a set that contains a red laser light and 12 different tops which projects different figures. It was so much fun to watch the red dot traveling amazing distances.
Just like that the Vishu day will be over. The next morning I would wake up with a heavy heart. Time would go swiftly and again there comes the time for farewells. Cousins would be leaving to their places and I would be like so heartbroken for days.
I could never imagine a Vishu like today on those days. It's feels all dull and lame now. Everybody is busy with their lives, most of my cousins are working now. So they don't get many holidays and moreover Vishu is not that important for anyone now. Childhood was the thing that made everything feel better. I don't know if today's children love Vishu like I did or do they even have any festivals fun enough to love and remember forever! I don't know.

I'll have these memories with me until I die. I'll miss them too.

A vishu sky of 2014

Wishing everyone out there a very happy Vishu!

A story

He was her sunshine.

And she was that summer's lilly who learned to love under his light.

He was the first one to post a disagreeing comment on her well crafted writing and she didn't feel like defending her point as his comment ended like, "Just consider this as a conversation I would like to have with you over a cup of tea."
Right from that moment she was falling for him, his long texts to which she would wake up for and the way he made her laugh.

She lived 356 miles away from him, but it almost felt like she could hear his heart beats.

His songs dominated her favorite playlist, and every song sounded like him. Gnash's illusm was her favorite, because she felt like it was his souvenir for her, inked with mesmerizing lyrics and music. 

"Out of breath,
Out of time,
Is it your turn?
Is it mine?"

She loved his writing and love for reading as she was herself a passionate reader since childhood. One day he wrote a 7 pages letter to her and that was the most beautiful thing someone had done for her out of all the 20 years of her life.

She had held his hands for only 13 minutes of their 366 days of vicissitudes. Those 13 minutes felt like home to her.

Then came few days that killed her and pushed into the abyss of grief. She searched for him.
She found nobody but alone herself.

On the 366th day, she felt like ending it because their love had turned out to be like a lame impression of what they had before. It was like a candle that imitated the star. She couldn't hold it. She said to him,

"Our love is dying."

He said back.

"You killed it."

It broke her heart because he had no idea how many poems and chapters of her literary works were made for him, the pictures she drew for him,about the book she gifted him and that day 2 o'clock in the morning when she woke up in tears and heart-wrenched as she had seen him roadkilled.
Oh! She really loved him like crazy. Her vehement art was her love for him.

The lilly loathed the clouds for obscuring her darling sunshine.
But she never knew that her sunshine was intentionally hiding from her.
And the Lilly made up her mind to bloom one last time to say goodbye.

"My love,If only we were strangers again..."

Happiness was,

The magic of words.
The magic of thoughts.
The magic of passion.
The magic of compassion.

The voice.
The laughter.
The conversations.
The endless nights.

The songs.
The dreams.
The hopes.
The stories.

The love.

The  inextricability.
The endlessness.
The reunions.

The meeting.
The smile.
The warmth.
The magic.
The pen and pendent.
The books.

The letter.

The memories.
Him.

My heart.

Past 4pm.
(February 19, a treacherous day for the hearts.)

*Situation
Again a time for goodbyes. Those warm hearts were leaving. Under the garish sun above, inside a home filled with hearts dwelling by one large and weak heart, they were ready to leave. Miles to go.

*Me
The smoke was started before 20 hours  and my heart was succumbing slowing to it. It was suffocating the heart. The breaths were more deeper now and every time I could feel the muscles twitch voluntarily when the lip alone was about to smile.
I said to my heart,
"It's fine. There is technology to dissolve distance."
But it snapped.
"I have heard it several times before."
The smoke engulfed the heart.

One final hug and smile with wet eyes.
I knew the smoke was not only mine.

She waved hands untill my eyes couldn't help seeing her. Some salty drops rolled over my cheeks.
Smoke in its zest and little burns.

*A voice from heart.

"Memories stay. Sisterhood stays. Love stays. Time awaits. Hope stays. Feelings stay.
You'll once go and do all you need to."

The smoke was descending.

The Delphic beauty.

The time was around 11.05pm and one more day was falling into the chart of lame and fruitless days. Shabnam begun humming and eventually inviting my attention to the lyrics of 'Titanium'. The music transcended and pushed my mind into a beautiful chaotic space of memories as in the pensieve of Dumbledore. Music always had that peculiar magic to let people dissolve into various memories and emotions, and i'd always wanted to write about how it felt. But writing about my favorite singers and music would be tediously long as music was an inextricable part of my life since childhood, although i'm a terrible singer.

When a tune meets its perfect lyrics just like that girl who meets her love who was long gone for war, it creates an inarticulatable field of beauty, love, longing and memories.

Miley Cyrus's 'Butterfly fly away' was the beginning of my love towards music. I was 12 and it was kind of the first downloaded music in my life.

"Caterpillar in the tree
How you wonder who you'll be
Can't go far but you can always dream,
Wish you may and wish you might
Don't you worry hold in tight
I promise you there will come a day
Butterfly fly away"

 Later on, songs from many amazing singers had captured my heart. 'Fine Frenzy' was the singer whom I felt like I discovered. 'Almost lover' and 'grasses' are still my favorites. It is so magnificent, the way Allison Sudol brings the nature into her songs. Some songs take the role of different milestones of life. Those particular songs remind me of various years of my timeline. The time,space and all the vibes hit me when the song plays. Purely enigmatic!

Once in awhile, I come across few authors who depict the influence of music in their works (Stephenie Mayor's 'The Host', Stephen Chbosky's 'The perks of being a wallflower', etc). 
Some songs do whisper directly into the soul, like Fleurie's 'Hurts like hell'. Some songs tell beautiful tales like Ed Sheeran's 'Wake me up', Lukas Graham's '7 Years', Katy perry's 'The one that got away', etc.

At times songs find us through movies,books and people.Few soundtracks like Amanda Seyfried's 'little house' from Dear John, Karen O's 'the moon song' from Her, Benjamin Britten's 'cuckoo's song' from Moonrise Kingdom, the original soundtrack from 'room', etc. They are so beautiful and reminds me of the movies.

Recently I came across a post on Facebook which said "People who sends you music are very important." Such special people who matches with your music are actually impossible to let go.Every time when that particular song plays, something about the person who sent the music articulates with us. I was fortunate enough to fall in love with Gnash, the passenger, John Legend and West life through such amazing people.

One day, I came across a video on YouTube by vlogbrothers in which a young  singer talked about how it felt when her art was finally exposed to the world. Her words were truly poignant as I've always felt, art was that thing which induces humanity, What makes us human.
Music had always moved hearts and it will keep on doing that till the end of time.

"Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can't tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start
They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes
Well that's fine by me

So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself, and I
Didn't know I was lost"

-Avicii, wake me up.

Leaving people.(and the people who left me in the journey)

"Let me make the songs for the people,
Songs for the old and young;
Songs to stir like a battle-cry
Wherever they are sung. "
  -Francis Ellen Watkins

In our arts and life, we had always successfully turned time,space and materials into antagonists. Actually it is the people who 'builds' and 'breaks' everything. The worst of them are the so called leaving people which includes intentional and unintentional departure.

At the very special unfortunate moments we meet some amazing people. Then they will stamp the pieces of their hearts into ours and will make the most poignant stuff called memories. Abruptly, one day they are not supposed to be in our lives anymore. Then it's the farewell time, our hearts will be broken and so many short lived promises like even
-the-people-at-space-maintain-contacts-why-wouldnt-us. For awhile the relationship will be kept, but it's the most hurting and helpless version of the best times we had together. And it's dead. What remains are the memories.

Nothing in the world can bring back everything to that perfect space. And honestly I've no idea how to stop this, as it's a global phenomenon that people meets to part. Sometimes I feel like I should stop getting attached to people.

Little things that can be done are, hold those people tighter. Make endless memories. And when they leave give them a smile warmed by your tears.
Say "Thank you for everything,pal."