‘Living on the edge’ is pass
It’s all of ‘fear of the unknown’
And the ‘pressure to perform’; every time
To live, you have to go beyond the fear
To live, you have to go beyond mere motions
To live, you have to fall free, like a feather

Between the light blue sky above
And the deep blue ocean below
Blistering through the binge of clouds
First, a heavy frightful fall
Eventually ensued to a tranquil of timbre
And a weightlessness of body and soul
That Free Fall, swept away, all my blues

The string of connect I had with the Chute
Was once again the umbilical cord of life
The Free Fall, a journey through the tunnel of life
The Free Fall faced me up with lose and desperation
Inhibitions, stereotypes and false pretentions
And everything close to worries and hurries

The Free Fall, fails you to fear again
The Free Fall, fails you to fail again
The Free Fall, lets you FREE…

I was born twice
On the same date of the same month
With just a gap of forty years
First accidentally and then chose to

Twelfth in the count,
Not a meticulous plan; it just happened
"More the merrier, give wind its wings"
Said the rain soaked August night

When I was born first
I could not choose the date or time
Neither what to bring on or take away
It just happened, with a resounding cry

First, I was born into a house
As a son, with a mom and a papa
As a brother with sisters and brothers
Everyone felt happy and shared sweets

Then, without a death or a reincarnation
I took another birth after those forty years
I chose the same date to birth,
Control+Alt+Delete, the keys functioned

Then, I was born out of the house
Without a mom and a dad
Without a brother or a sister
Without joy or even a cry

dont you think to believe in something is to take a position?
is it possible to take no position at all..?
you neither believe nor disbelieve in anything.
dont you think there is something different happening
in that totally blank space?

There is a little space within our heart
Like a small screen for images from a projector to fall
An incessant cinema at play; the modern one, of course!
Swiftly edited imagery convey much
Than a long winding start to end boring script

Faces, Places, Situations, Emotions, everything
Become an image, some you remember;
And some, you do not forget;
Then, some, you cannot forget
Is memory made of remembering the unforgotten?

The Mathemagician taught:
Align names with “time or space” to remember a person
Took my own name; said ‘Kal’ is ‘time’ and ‘esh’, ‘God’
Remember Kalesh as “God of Time”
During lunch, he asked me “What’s your Name?”

To remember, you need a reason
A cheque to arrive every month;
A date to keep; a scar in the mirror;
Some ******; some mystery around the moves;
But, as the reason weakens, remembrance fades

To retain you in that Space within the heart, I have…
Those midnights in my lap, with your eyes gazed at “Tom and Jerry”;
Those tasting sessions, I rated awesome-
Every dish you made in that “Barbie Kitchen set”;
The endless times, losing the fist fights, as you had “Boost for energy”
My shameless switch overs of “positions” for your annual debates;

Not to forget; not, to remember...

The big, black cat crossed my path again today
As always, slowly walking across the road;
He turned back, around the corner and looked at me
As if to say, I own my path!

The big, black cat crossed my path again today
On this Friday, the Thirteenth
After bumping into the widow housekeeper mopping the floor
And sighting a crow that flew from right to the left;

As the big, black cat crossed my path again today
Shall I ask you; once again,
To wear that artless indifference and the quirky smile
And tell me “What do you ‘get’ from that?”

As earlier when the big, black cat crossed my path
Would you answer, “Come on;
The ******* cat is just going somewhere”
Then, with abandon, say “the journey must continue"

Are we not brought up, in stories?
Stories of hero worship, dark fearful nights
Soft tender tears, hot red lips
Fairy Mothers, frightful demons
Realms where magic and realism
Locked us up for a perpetual inter-play

Growing up and ‘living’ a story
Is all about the Story teller
Fearful ‘Dracula’ who entered my teeny nights
Was made up this unpredictable predator
By the cousin Story teller, than
Bram Stoker, as I learned later

Much after ‘Leslie and Richard’
Went their own ways
I stayed with the Soul mate;
“Bridge across Forever”
It was the story that I lived in,
Faith blinded, in the Story teller!

Teller can make you up and pull you down
A hero today is villain tomorrow
Abandoned fury; Bereft emotions
Erratic desires; Impromptu positions
Mix and shake them well
Teller can rapt a discerning listener

Teller can also cast a spell with the story
With made-up faces and un-made-up minds
Hewing a profile with vicarious feelings
With deceitful facts and illusory events
Teller webs a story, you ‘live in’
‘Make believe’; but beautiful!

Then one day, listener grows out of the story
Magic fades and sanity sets in
Tears turn phony, Lies lay bare
“The Gift was kept by my parents”
Said the Kid, “not by Santa Clause”.
Let that ‘wake up’ not hurt forever

Stories are told by Story teller
Characters seldom given to testify
A beginning and end carefully crafted
A long route that can have ‘twists in the tale’
I am learning to listen to stories as ‘Stories’
Not life in essence, every time.

After good twenty two years
I lay suspended, almost a S shape
In that easy chair, back home in Kerala
The cloth that holds, reminds
The swings I had in the cradle
With each move; people, events and situations
Came alive as if in a motion picture,
In that space within my heart

The contours of that easy chair
Rested myself into an eternal ease
Sitting there with my cup of coffee
I felt my life jumping on to my lap, in indulgence!
My life giggled, cried, laughed loudly
Sang occasional lullabies, kissed me deeply, and at times
Darted right into my heart
Filling all voids, in that space within…

My life held a mirror straight on to my face
Took me through the life I sailed
Pains, pleasures, pauses and prices I paid
Fights, flights and the final freeze, I chose
That easy chair on which I sat
Brought me close to my Self

In that trance, I asked
"Where were you all these while, my life?"
"You never find any time to sit for me to come to you" my life said
I realized, I was sitting, all the while, in innate forms,  
But not as a listener to my own life.
That easy chair back home
Showed me what and how, I were
That easy chair back home
Made me live again...