Another poem from Rupali!
I looked up towards the sky
To where the great eagles fly.
The clouds were passing by
In shades of grey and white…
Sep2
Tag Archives: Rohini Sunderam
Aug25
Trap in a Steel Dawn
Still grey. In the whisper-quiet of a steely dawn a man with a stubbly beard comes whistling ever so softly as he sets a trap.
The trap is vicious. Its teeth horrid. Its jaws gaping, but there is no bait. He places the trap on a partly sandy, partly grassy mound, not far from a semi-ruined house, then turns and vanishes into the soft grey mist.
Is it real or does his ghost chuckle quietly at the aspect of a tired young man leaning against the rubble-remains of a pillar? He is a strange young man. His clothes are of an indeterminate age. His hair is neither long nor short. He seems extremely exhausted.
Aug13
CHANDRIKA’S TRICK
Long, long ago King Jagata, which means the world, lived happily with Queen Dharti Matá whose name means Mother Earth. Together they lived in a palace somewhere in northern India.
They were such happy people that every time they laughed the sunbeams danced. The courtiers and the servants smiled and sang to themselves as they went about their duties.
Way back then, the seasons were mild and they came and went, as they should. Everyone was happy. Everyone that is, except lonely Chandrika, the moon queen. She was fine for a few years living alone up in the dark night sky. And for a while she quite enjoyed being the Queen of the night.
Aug8
A review on The Flaneur
This summer I had a lovely break in London. And in the few days that I was there I took in a show – my favourite play Shakespeare’s Macbeth performed a little differently at The Rose Theatre.
This was one of several diversions during the week and having written a review that’s appeared in that wonderful international art blog The Flaneur I thought I’d share it with readers who might visit FictionPals..
Do check out my review as well as the rest of the mag.
Look out for more, I hope to start really writing again.
Jun21
The Pearl Divers’ Songs
Their music was so strange and distant From hymns they sang straight to the sea Or praises raised to mighty Allah Those lovely songs, that fidjeri Above the waves of Bas Ya Bahr* The Nahhaaam raised his melody Along with him the clappers played The jahlah or mirwas, plaintively. Read the rest of this entry
Dec31
Panchatantra – The Jackal & The Drum
Continuing the Panchatantra tales in verse…
(So king Ping-a-laka settled down to hear
Dama-nak-a’s story, all about fear
And an unknown fear, as we all know
Must be faced in order for it to go)
And this dear friends is the tale we’ll hear
About the jackal and the drum he feared
The Jackal and the Drum
A hungry jackal went in search of food
And came to a deserted battlefield
But loud strange sounds made him feel not so good
And he thought to run from the battlefield.
Nov28
Panchatantra – The Monkey & The Wedge
This story told in rhyme is a continuation of the first book of the Panchatantra, which as we know, consists of five books – Mitra-bhed: The Loss of Friends; Mitra-lābha or Mitra-samprāpti: The Gaining of Friends; Kākolūkīyam: War and Peace; Labdhapraṇāśam: Loss Of Gains; Aparīkṣitakārakaṃ: Ill-Considered Action / Rash deeds. The Monkey & The Wedge is the second of the stories contained within “Mitra-Bhed”.
The Monkey & The Wedge
So Dama-nak-a heard from Kara-tak
The story of the monkey and the wedge
How a merchant once began to build up
A temple of wood at his garden’s edge
Nov14
Panchatantra in verse
As Wikipedia will inform you The Panchatantra (Five Principles’) is an ancient Indian inter-related collection of animal fables in verse and prose, in a frame story format. What I am attempting to do is to treat these in a modern verse format while, hopefully, retaining the original spirit of the stories. I realise this is a daunting exercise, but it is an interesting challenge for me!
The Prologue
Once upon a time, a long time ago
There was a kingdom in south Indi-a
King Amar-a-sakti ruled it, you know
Mahi-la-ro-pyam of South Indi-a.
Oct19
The Pen & The Sword
A conceit
In an electronic world is one permitted to muse upon the future of expressions such as ‘the pen is mightier than the sword’? Today, can we say, ‘the (computer) key is mightier than the sword? Or, more appropriately, the ‘chip is mightier than the missile’? Then too, with the integration of computers/electronics and warheads/missiles does a comparison exist? After all neither one can be mightier than the other when they are, in fact, the same. Or, should we, in musing, revert to what the expression originally meant, ‘that an idea expressed in words can effect more change faster and sooner and with further reaching implications than a single, short, swift death’?
Oct15
I’m an Owl not a Lark!
I had a fractured sleep last night
No splints or plasters
Could knit it together
Thereafter the pain of it
Has left me yawning … all morning
I’m an owl not a lark
As the day proceeds
I can feel my body’s rhythms
As they pick up speed
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