விழித்திருந்த இரவுகள்
தொலைப்பேசி துவாரத்தில் பரிமாறிய கனவுகள்
ரகசியமாய் பாடிப் பகிர்ந்த பாடல்
தொடர்ந்த உருவான ஊடல்
மூன்றாம் ஜாமத்திலும் முடியாக்கதைகள்
பொட்டுறக்கமின்றித் துவங்கிய காலைப்பொழுதுகள்
இனியேனும் ஓய்வு வேண்டும்
நாள் பார்த்து நலங்கிட்டு நம் உறவுக்கு பெயரிட்டு
என்றென்றும் உனதாகிவிட்ட நிம்மதியில்
இரவெனும் பகலெனும் பாராத ஆழ்ந்த உறக்கம்
One of your favorite songs, isn't it ?
ReplyDeleteYour last line particularly underlines the transition well. There is a poem by ponmaNi vairamuthu that actually goes to the even next stage (or rather it is another theme altogether). The working mother comes home to a sleeping child and she will leave the next morning before the child wakes up, so she sings wakes the child up and sings to him. The poem - which I have been searching fruitlessly for for a long time- is titled கண்ணுறங்காதே கண்மணியே !
hiii....... nice to meet you...... please be my friend to share about everything in blogging........
ReplyDelete//One of your favorite songs, isn't it ? //
ReplyDeleteyeah pr :)
actually this isn't the original work which I did. I changed my last line to end it well. Somehow I didn't wanna finish off such a beautiful song with a pathos poetry.
//The working mother comes home to a sleeping child and she will leave the next morning before the child wakes up, so she sings wakes the child up and sings to him. //
wow.
Actually u kinda did capture the essence if any I wanted to convey. she is tired of sleepless nights and desperately wanted to become his just so that she could be at peace and sleep well :))
thanks again :)
hi inspired mind. Sure would do. I however dont know abcd of football :P thanks for dropping by.
ReplyDeleteநல்லா இருக்கு.
ReplyDelete//she is tired of sleepless nights and desperately wanted to become his just so that she could be at peace and sleep well //
ReplyDeleteOh ok.
One short story 'knot' that was nursed for long but never happened centered around how sleep-deprivation pushed man to seemingly odd situations, decisions, priorities.
A man stays up two nights in a row taking care of his aged parent in the hospital - he's never really asleep so he's never really awake - gets slow as the days proceed, less and less sharp. Relatives pour in to see the old dying man and the protagonist can play host less and less. He sees the old man slipping away, so many thoughts and memories rush in but his body is just not alive to the importance of the moment.
Early on the third day morning when he is the only one around, the doctor finally gives him the bad news. He he calls home and passes the news, checks his watch and stretches out in the caretaker's bed and sleeps as soon as his head hits the pillow.
ரொம்ப நல்லா இருக்குங்க இந்தக்கவிதை.
ReplyDeleteநன்றி ரவி, பி.ஆர், யாத்ரா
ReplyDeletepr,
I wont say rude realities. They are JUST PLAIN realities. Sometimes I used to wonder and feel ashamed of the fact, the very next day after the demise of our loved ones, we eat and the taste buds work fine too...relishing ur fav dishes.
We eat, sleep, drink, excrete, nothing stops. After all bodily functions.
Wait a sec, after a week or may be month or may be a year....we PARTY for diff reason and hey, we actually ENJOY life...again.
I wonder whether to call this reality a boon or blessing or a curse.
thanks pr.