ഓർമ്മകളുടെ നിഴൽവീണ വീഥികളിലെവിടെയോ വേരുകളാഴ്ത്തി നിൽപ്പുണ്ട് ഒരു നീർമാതളം. ഒരുപാട് മോഹങ്ങളെ ഉള്ളിലൊളിപ്പിച്ച കാലത്തിന്റെ നോവുകളെ ഹൃദയത്തിൽ പകർത്തിയ സുന്ദരമായ പ്രണയപുഷ്പങ്ങൾ വിടർത്തിയ ഓരോ വസന്തത്തിന്റെയും നിറങ്ങളെ മതിയാവോളം വാരിച്ചൂടിയ നീർമാതളം.
ഹേ സഖീ,നീയവൻ വിളക്ക് മാടം!
മെല്ലെ വിടർത്തി മാനസം,
അറിയണം നീയവളുടെ ജീവിതചുറ്റുവട്ടങ്ങൾ,
അറിയണം ആ ജീവിത സമരസപ്പെടലുകൾ!
കടുംകെട്ടായി തുടരുന്ന ബന്ധങ്ങളും !
സ്നേഹം വിടർത്തുന്ന പൂക്കളാവുക നിങ്ങൾ,
കണ്ണീരൊപ്പുവാൻ പരസ്പരം മത്സരിക്കും കൂട്ടരാവുക!
വിടർന്നകലാതെയെന്നും തുടരുന്ന ജന്മങ്ങളാവുക!
ഓരോ മിടിപ്പുമങ്ങനെ ഹിതാനുസൃതമന്യോന്യമേറ്റുവാങ്ങുക!!
‘People and Hearts‘ is delighted to introduce our new special guest author, Praveena Karekkat (a.k.a) Praveena.
Specializing in poetry, Praveena is a vivid dreamer and an interesting writer. She lends her magical touch to Malayalam poems. The author is very passionate about creative writing.
People and Heartswill feature poems and writings authored by Praveena. To retain the originality and soul of her writings, the posts will be published in Malayalam language. To help readers, People and Hearts will provide a translated version of the original writings.
To know more about Praveena, let us read her writings.
The voice of the unspoken words…
The voice of the dying soldiers…
The voice of the rolling tears…
The voice of hungry children…
The voice of traumatized victims…
The voice of aching people…
The voice of the dead…
The voice of falling trees… The voice of the dying mother nature… The voice of life and death… The voice of extinct species… The voice of dried rivers… The voice of melting icebergs… The voice of the depleting ozone layer…
The voice of a relationship…
The voice of the people…
The voice of an orphan…
The voice of love…
The voice of the unseen…
The voice of the unheard…
The voice of the untouched…
The voice of the unexplored…
The voice of infinity…
The voice of mystery….
The voice of beauty…
The voice of appreciation…
The voice of art…
The voice of lust…
The voice of crime…
The voice of revenge…
The voice of novels…
The voice of music…
The voice of photography…
The voice of cinema…
The voice of a failed artist… The voice of a struggling performer… The voice of the common man… The voice of the universe… The voice of hope… The voice of freedom… The voice of passion… The voice of expression… The voice of anything that the heart can relate to…
Yes, I’m the voice… And my voice invokes life… And my voice is born to express…
Playing like a child, the moon giggles, Crawling like an ant on a mission, the moon reaches the gloomy coconut trees. Pretending as asleep like a lazy dog, the trees act, Lying on the blue skies like a cloud, the trees practice silence.
Touching with eagerness like a menacing kitten, The moon pulled the leaves of the lazy trees, Reacting like a thief who was caught red-handed, The coconut trees woke up laughing with the moon.
Lifting the moon like a toddler, The coconut trees played hide and seek with the moon, Holding the moon on their shoulders like a hero, The coconut trees and the moon posed for a selfie.
This magical wall attracts me like never before,
Undressing the dreamy child in me,
The magical wall smiles at me,
Invoking millions of colourful memories in me.
This magical wall excites me like never before,
Whistling at me like my menacing childhood friend,
The magical wall hugs me to my delight,
Pulling me to its scintillating beauty.
This magical wall makes me crave for my childhood,
Narrating its own story in lyrical style,
The magical wall touches my heart poetically,
Syncing like a rainbow of silent paintings and talkative poems.
This magical wall amazes me about its soulful tree,
Treasuring countless memories of photographs,
The magical wall holds the fallen leaves close to its heart,
Making the birds and the child in me to fly…
Gathering the chunks of time together from the ground,
Placing the broken chunks on our hands,
Sighed we! Just then,
Blew the villainous wind over the pieces of time,
The fallen victims were the time, you and me,
As the time drifted away from us..
Lying down scattered in distant corners were the time, you and me,
Searching for the broken chunks of time were you and me,
Cried we! Just then,
Struck the cold-blooded lightning on the battered pieces of time,
Broken were the time, you and me,
As the time drifted away from us…
Misery can’t be this worse,
Holding her hands with a feeble touch,
Waiting to hear her trembling voice,
Wiping her tears with no hope of a sunrise,
Waiting to hear her final words,
We saw her taking her last breath,
Left she with those unsaid words…
I envisioned a childish dream,
Paper boat wading through rivers,
Menacing breeze moving the paper boat forward,
Ripples portraying rainbows in front of the paper boat,
Butterflies flying on top of the rainbows,
Small fishes jumping through the dreamy rainbows,
Magic taking shape as the paper boat sailed with butterflies and rainbows…
Look into my eyes like you are visualizing the dream of a rainbow,
Fall into my arms like the waves hitting the shore,
Kiss my lips like the ice cream melting on the strawberries,
Love me like the dew rolling on the morning leaves,
Look into my eyes….
Slowing down my foot steps, Positioning myself against a metallic rod, I was following him, my twin – shadow, I was watching him closely like never before, I was going to capture him with my camera, While he was blindly imitating me.
He, my twin – shadow, stood there in front of me, Lights falling on me during the night made him darker, I smiled so that I could make him smile for the photo, Only then I knew, he, my twin – shadow, could never smile, While he was blindly imitating me.
I captured his unassuming posture, Into the photo album of time, He, my twin – shadow, wasn’t smiling, Although, I stood there smiling at my twin – shadow, While he was blindly imitating me.
I never thought that I will become a writer in my life. I never even thought about that. But there were some glimpses of my writing skills that I discovered in my college days. But one moment changed everything that I knew about myself.
I wrote my first poem when I was 11 years old about “Sun”. And that was the only poem I wrote in the next eight years. After that I never wrote something like that until I fell in love.
I started to write poems based only on love. In my college days, I used to write leave letters, permission letters etc. for my classmates because they thought that I was good in writing. Despite studying Bachelor of Engineering, I found more affinity to English and writing. But one truth is that I never read books on literature, poems or novels. Yet still I loved writing.
Love triggered my writing skills. And my best poems were based on love.
I used to write many poems and give it to my love. She would read it and she used to smile. I loved doing that.
It was during this time that I started to create short poems, type them as SMS texts and send it to my friends as forward messages. Forward SMSes were a craze with youngsters about a few years ago. I used to type some code words as an identification of the SMSes that I created. I used to receive those forward messages that I created back to my inbox itself. I still get few of those messages as SMSes even after so many years. It was a good feeling to see that people are liking my poems and creations.
One day, one of my short poem was read in a regional FM Radio channel as the best forward message of the day.
One fine evening, I was listening to the FM Channel, Radio City in 2006. The RJ read, “Here is the best forward message of the day“. And that was my poem that was being read live on air. I felt very happy to hear that. Fortunately, I was listening to the radio station. On that day, I understood that people have started to read and like my poems. It was on that day I decided that I will become a writer someday.
There was my English lecturer who used to encourage me to write more. Through the reference of my teacher and the Head of the Department of English, I got an offer to publish my poems as a book through a local publisher. I was asked to pay 25,000 INR for publishing it. At that time I thought I must not publish my poems as I didn’t have the maturity or mindset of a complete writer. The money was also a constraint. I felt bad for rejecting that offer. But now I feel that what I did was the right thing. I kept learning and wrote more to become a writer. Still I’m learning how to write better.
There was another friend who always supported and encouraged me to write more. That friend was the main inspirational force because of whom I’m a better writer now. I kept writing more and more. My dream was to have my own blogging website. Initially, several friends ridiculed me and never believed what I said. I said to them that one day I will have my own website for showcasing my poems, short stories etc.
Hiding behind the whispering tree, Closing my left eye childishly, Looking at the playful raindrops, Looking with my right eye unceasingly, I watched the lady touching the flying raindrops.
Hiding behind the singing tree, Tilting my head unknowingly, Looking with my eyes amazingly, Touching those colorful raindrops with my hands, I watched the lady splashing the smiling raindrops.
Playing with the jumping raindrops, Looking at the drenching tree unknowingly, Slowing down her actions purposefully, Holding those magical raindrops in her hands, The lady looked at my watery eyes with a raining smile.
The winds, strong enough to make me poetic again, The impact is clearly evident, as the winds kiss the trees with strong passion. The flying trees make me dream again, The visual of the most dazzling girl on earth, Having her hair cut loose in the direction of the moving winds.
The winds, strong enough to make me poetic again, The chemistry is clearly evident, as the raindrops kiss her lips, The visual makes me to realize, The love is near and I’m in love again…