A Blog of One's Own

In memoriam: Kamala Surayya Year 2000. When I passed out of JNU, after completing my Ph.D, I wandered about a few years in various places in Delhi in search of a place to stay and a work to support myself. It was difficult to find out a place, if you’re alone and jobless in this city. So, I started telling the landlords that “I am a writer”. And it did click with my landlord in Vasant Kunj who was a school master with whose family I had a long association ever since. He valued education and it didn’t matter to him if I actually authored a book or not as he was contented with the idea itself. For me, there was nothing new in this as I had been living this imaginary world since my childhood where I did all my reading and writing; a samantharalokam , which Kamala Das had talked about, a world parallel to the mundane reality. Kamala Das alias Surayya, one of the most influential writers who wrote in both Malayalam and English, poem and prose, literally inspired every girl to keep a

  സ്വര വാനം   നിലാച്ചുരുളായ്   നിന് നിറ കണ്   ചുഴികളി - ലൂടതി    നിഗൂഢം … നിതാന്ത പ്രയാണം…   - ശ്രീകുമാർ -

ഭോജപത്രമേ ഇതാരുടെ കഥ? നിന്റെ ചായുന്ന ശിഖരത്തിൽ തൊലിത്താളുകളിൽ ആരുടെ തൂലിക ?   ഇതെന്റെ കഥ നിന്റെയും   കടന്നുപോയ പഥികർ യാത്രയുടെ ഇടവേളയിൽ പരസ്പരം   സമര്പ്പിച്ച ഇതിഹാസം   അതിൽ ഞാനുണ്ടോ നീയുണ്ടോ അലയുന്ന പാന്ഥ രുടെ   വിയര്പ്പുണ്ടോ താപസമുനിയുടെ കയ്യൊപ്പുണ്ടോ   അധികാര പടവുകളിൽ വേറിട്ട താളുകളിൽ പരിചയം പുതുക്കുന്ന രൂപങ്ങളുണ്ട് ‌   കിളിയുടെ പാട്ടിൽ നദിയുടെ ആരവത്തിൽ കാടിറങ്ങുന്ന പദചലനത്തിൽ മല നിറയുന്ന വെളിച്ചത്തിൽ   പിന്നെയും ശബ്ദങ്ങൾ…. -ശ്രീകല-

Some journeys unexpectedly curve, turning you inward; taking you back to the womb, to the very conception of life.    In the midst of a hectic study tour in Kannur district in North Kerala, writer K.M Venugopalan, our companion during this journey, took us to Chengal wherein resides Shri. Kallen Pokkudan, lovingly called as Kandal (mangrove) Pokkudan – the man who grew mangrove forests along the Pazhayangadi River.      Exhausted as we were in the afternoon, we reached the house of Shri. Pokkudan, the tireless crusader for the restoration of the lost heritage of mangrove forests in the coastal region. What he began with a strong individual conviction in his home district, in Kannur in the 1980s, soon became a mass effort and countless mangroves have been planted in almost all parts of Kerala over the years. Kallen Pokkudan He was struggling with his lunch kept on the table, unable to eat, as sobs choked his throat in remembrance of his life partner, Meenakshi, who had

"I trust your Garden was willing to die ... I do not think that mine was—it perished with beautiful reluctance, like an evening star—" Emily Dickinson, in a letter to her Aunt Katie Sweetser, 1880 I stand perplexed, not knowing what to do with the few plants I had on the terrace of this house where I lived for some years now. So few, they somehow grew so beautifully in their respective containers without any special care. After a period of winter hibernation, most of them have come back with full vigor. During my short trips out of the city, some inevitably faded while others survived with incredible spirit. Time to leave the place once again, this time for a long time, may be. I say ‘may be’ because every time when I shifted out of this city in a definitive tone, I returned to it with equal speed. The city which saw more than half of my life’s doings…So, let me suffix it with a ‘may be’ this time, in all humility.  There were gardens always, wherever I lived. On