Showing posts from 2019

Travel To England..

Flight, At Start..Ahila

Planes appear small, when we see from the ground, when we are little girls and boys, when we are not having a single chance of seeing the plane in the airway, taking off or landing down. After we had grown up, we see, feel how big it is, travel, walk within that, hand shake with the pilot, smile, chat with air hostesses, stewards, but still we awe or urged to come out of our work or study, whenever we hear the sound of a plane flying outside or when we look the trail of smoke from a jet plane. Myself also sit in the same position of all. While I was in school, I ran out of my class to see the aeroplane flying. I peek with my slanting neck, through the kitchen window when I was cooking. I imagine the plane which is making sound 'zinggg..' over the building while I was occupied in work. These things come naturally to everyone as we are addicted to our interests. It wont change as we ages. Habits which was formed or developed during early years of life most…

I Named The Village - My English Poetry Book Released

I Named The VillageBook Release

I had been writing for the past fifteen years in Tamil. Poems, short stories, novel, non fiction writing and all. And penned down ten books.  But this is my first English Poetry Book,  that has added a beautiful feather in my cap. 

A poem from my collection: 
I am not The Buddha When I rest under the banyan With closed eyes, folded knees, ‘Look after carefully’ Sounded an owl Giving her little one to me And went on its way
‘Keep these with care’ Said the green parakeet, Thrusted some ripened fruits In my lap and left 
‘Save this pearl necklace’ Ordered the Raven, Put it around my neck And flew away
‘Take this also’ Said a beggar who throw A rupee near me And moved
Not-Self, I am not The Buddha !
I mostly listen to the silence, for its shades and nuances that sits over the meadows, mountains, water and even in my kitchen table. The Babblers, Egrets, Daffodils, Chrysanthemums speak out their silence in a varied hues. I listened to them. There from, these poems of mine speak m…