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Queen of Our Garden, Heart of Our Home

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    Our journey together began More than a decade ago. You were planted with much care, Alongside other fruit-bearing kin. We wished you could grace our yard, To be our mark of distinction. But more than that, we wanted you   To spread your cool warmth into our home.   You seemed to sense our silent feeling, Our sincere longing to call you ours. Your tender leaves swaying in the breeze, Danced with vigour and effortless ease, You set our hearts flutter with joy And filled our eyes with calm contentment.   In time, you grew - strong, tall and wide, Standing stout with great pride. Yet seasons went by without a bloom, A decade passed by, untouched by fruit. We worried, we pondered, But waited in patience. Our love for you never diminished, We stood by you, trusting you would flourish.   Then one blessed day we saw you stoop, As if shy, yet eager to whisper That you were now ready, Poised and resolute...

Happy New Year!

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Reverberations of a Forgotten Era

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    Is it my cognitive reality which is now the embodiment of my embarrassment, and deepens into resentment, turning inward, belittling me, because I am drooling, gaping at the country snacks inside the glass shelf of the tea stall !   Gosh, the blush on my face, like the flames of a furnace hot and red, which I dread has attracted many heads.   Those mint candies , lemon candies , rainbow lollipops and little cakes on the owner’s desk lure, poke my pitiful heart, rejuvenate its pace, its rhythm, pull its strings to those, lost moments, the forgotten experiences and enunciate it isn’t a gone memory.   It deliberates my connection, my bond to my childhood, my precious era, laden with mischiefs and innocent altercations.   The bus I proudly steered, my brothers its co-passengers, was my architectural design, made with my Amma’s saree .   That vehemence cascades down further to my ance...

I’ll be there for you

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  I’ll be there for you – A promise made to keep, An assurance sworn to abide, A faith strong, pure and true, An oath to breathe till eternity, A trust no trial can subdue.   The Friends, set the bar high – Monica, Chandler, Ross, Joey, Rachel, Phoebe, They taught us how friendship stand tall, Against the tide of fading years, How laughter and loyalty entwine, And makes life’s journey more divine.   Louisa and William in Me Before You – Unveiled love’s overwhelming reality, Beyond the limits of mortal frame, A selfless flame, only the pure soul to blame, That even the grim reaper must bow before, The commandments of the doting heart.   Sydney Carton in A Tale of Two Cities – A silent ardent lover of Lucie , Who gave his life, not for glory, But for the triumph of love, A sacrifice scripted in eternity’s story, A testament that true love lives beyond return.   And so, my love, my promise stands true, ...

Prometheus On Wheel

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    Blazing sun and scorching heat , Beads of toil trickling down in beat. Drenching the baniyaan in silent feat, Kaka, the rickshawala , pulling through the street.   The pounding rhythm of turning wheels, Two of the three roll with measured heels. Kaka is the third, part of the frame, Tethered to toil, yet no badge, no name.   One step forward, two steps behind, He tugs his cart with a soldier’s mind. Through potholes deep and roads unkind, He hauls the weight of humankind.   His face haggard, blemishes shown, Eyes alert, though dreams forlorn. Cheeks hollowed, spirit torn, Yet Kaka stood with pride, no fate could scorn.   No shoes on feet, on roads burning hot , The sun, a whip he never forgot. When skies collapse in merciless rain , He braves the storm with silent pain.   The pounding roar of his weary heart, Keeps his rhythm in a cautious start. Imploring his body not to fall apart, Kaka...

Rain, Chai and Mohini

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Rain clatters and splatters On the filled potholes Making ripples drawn like brushstrokes Across a painter's canvas Lips blushed with chai ’s warm flush Sipping slowly reveling in a monsoon day   Thankamma chechi, the local barista Moving seamlessly at Velappan’s chai stall Balances with grace the platter Of parippuvada and crisp bonda Perfect mates for chai and kattan kappi   She places them down on worn desks That once had known better days Where usual culvert mongers as always Occupied the few benches With carefree banter and boastful sways   The evergreen melody of 60’s ‘ Manasa maine varoo ’ Hums out from the transistor Taking back to the shores of ‘ Chemeen ’ And the timeless gaze of ‘ Kochu muthalali ’ The epitome of romance even today   And then a flash! Not a lightning, but Mohini Thottinkara gramam ’s heartthrob Ambling under her floral umbrella Drawing stares to her arresting charm   Back...

Beyond Boundaries

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  “Don’t cross the line,” we are often told, But who determines the bounds we‘re forced to fold? Are boundaries mere enclosures to keep us tight, Or are they pole stars that explicitly guide our flight?   Do we encase what heart wants to speak, For fear that truth may sound, bold and bleak? Do we hush our voices, to spare the pain, Or spark those thoughts to break the chain?   Some lines would protect, some would divide, And some lines are drawn to defend our pride. Yet breaking boundaries, blithe and bright, Uncovers unjustness hidden from the sight.   Does breaking divides, bring justice fair, Or give the heedless room to tear? Did it free the world to rise and stand tall, Or leave it in shackles, to stumble and fall?   But for every boundary for every confine, A way will emerge to rise and shine. Not all should break, nor all should remain, For wisdom in this world would always retain. © Anjana Premkumar 2025

The Martyrs

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    I would name them ‘Martyrs’ The orphaned souls who died A thousand times watching their kin Slaughtered, slain, snatched away By the cruel hands of fate   Yet living in remembrance Of happiness stripped from them A life that would have been A haven of mixed emotions Ups and downs shared together   They are the Bravehearts Who took a million unfired bullets To their chest squeezing out   Unshed blood from their hearts Leaving no eye devoid of tears   They are the valiant soldiers Who faced the armed cowards With arms bare and minds firm Ready to lay down their life For another to live   They dared to confront the deranged Who slaughtered men to divide and shatter The unity, the integrity, the pride The nation has strived hard to build They are the Martyrs, the Bravehearts, our true Heroes!     ©  Anjana Premkumar   2025    

Bliss to Despair

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  Cluck cluck, this way dear horsey The sky is so bright and blue I know you are happy and I am too What’s holding you back though? Ah, it must be the meadows for sure Its lush green vibrance tempting you.   But my friend let’s move along - There’s more to see, to explore!   Life is but a ball of curiosity Look, those pine trees standing tall Like silhouettes of proud men on call Mysterious yet enticing to hear Its shadows whispering tales unclear   Queer and bizarre may it seem I find beauty in Nature’s darkest seam The bewitching call of the deep Cloaked in mystery yet serene Luring like a sorceress with spells unseen   Let’s climb these mountains Reach higher to touch the sky Where winds whistle lullabies and clouds hug to comfort your soul   Come my friend let’s move along - There’s more to see, to explore!   Do you hear the pops my dear - Crackles of fire crackers , are they? Or...

My First Book

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  Never had I ever thought, You were the dream I always sought. The initial shock, the stunned silence, Turned into mirth and joy in an instance.   What were you, my tiny little one? Emotions twirling as typhoon spun The epitome of perfection inside out- You are my bliss, my peace, I would shout.   Precious as the first born were you, Birthed with feelings novel and new. Every feature, every element you held, Were conceived in rhyme , love unparalleled.   I mentioned rhyme you say? Yes, it is the book of poems to portray. An assortment of poems, themes that vary, Presents but reflections of life primary.   Verses woven with thoughtful precision, Experience, observation builds its notion. The values and lessons it may imaprt, Will remain in you, not to depart.   A book of substance, sure to spear, Its messages fair, loud and clear. They give justice to my perception, Reflections in Rhyme is my proud...