Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Innocence lost

Kadala, salty and sandy,
In paper cones like the upturned hats of clowns
Thrust into waiting hands,
Little waiting hands
Crunched and swallowed in minutes.

The young married couple sitting nonchalantly,
Enjoying their moments of togetherness in solitude.
Chubby-cheeked cousins playing -
Making sand-castles?
The older few walking and talking seriously -
About communism?

Neenu stood unerringly tall, like – oh, like the stately Big Ben (she liked Big Ben),
Her little poetic mind admiring the setting sun
As it sunk slowly beneath the rippling water in the horizon.
Describing the beauty of the scene to herself in hushed whispers -
She couldn’t wait to transcribe the image
To her prized diary (for her eyes only).

Then her married cousins shouted:
What are you doing standing there alone?
This is Kerala. People are looking at you.


One Who Nets The Dot said...

Stop picking on poor kerala.

wanderstruck said...

I'm not picking on it. It's autobiographical, this poem.
So now what do you have to say?!!!