"tiffin" poems
When we
Are alone,
Me and Ammini
Make another
World to play in.
Like the ever vacant
Sand houses
Some adults build
With their kids
On the beach.
Then,
I will get angry
Even if the gentlest
Of breezes
Passes that way.
She will turn livid
Even if a *****
Passes that way.
If
Single
Single
Memories
Or sighs
Or their scars
Appear on the face
She will
Wipe them off
With
Kisses.
After playing
For long,
We will fight.
Ammini will holler
Louder than
The way she laughed.
I will keep mum
Louder than her.
I will
Lay her down
Holding her close
To my *****
That will beat
Ammineee, Ammineeee.
As she pretends
To sleep,
I will shoo her off
Go away pussiiii!
As if the masculine
Of pussee is pussoo
She will shoo me off
Go away pussoo!
I will retort
Go away Poochamma!
Ammini will retort
Go away Pochamba!
Go away Kochambi!
Go away Kochambra!
Go away Pochambra!
Go away Sochambra!
Go away
Sorambi!
Go away
Soramba!
Go away
Soorambi!
Go away
Kooramba!
Go away
Koorambi!
Go away
……
At a loss
For words
She will
Change the tune.
Goaway
Slate!
Goaway
Bag!
Goaway
Tree!
Goaway
Pencil!
Goaway
Pen!
Goaway,
Ant
Goaway
Mosquito!
Goaway
Matchbox!
Goaway
Straw!
Goaway
Book!
Goaway
Cot!
Goaway
Chair!
Goaway
Window!
Goaway
Door!
Goaway
Mobile!
Goaway
Button!
Goaway
Computer!
Goaway
Trousers!
Goaway
Shirt!
Goaway
Sky!
Goaway
Puppy!
Goaway
Star!
Goaway
Well!
Goaway
Girl!
Goaway
Boy!
Goaway
Calendar!
Goaway
Fan!
Goazway
Doll!
Goaway
Broom!
Goaway
Tiffin box!
Goaway
Poetry!
Goaway
Annakutty!
Goaway
Appakutta!
Goaway
Ammikkalli!
Goaway
Appakkalla!
About to lose,
I will show the
Trump card.
Go away
Agnus Anna!
Her face will change.
Hesitantly,
She will say
Go away
Kuzhur Wilson!
Then
An
Intolerable
Silence
Will
Spread
There.
When Ammini
Turns back
To
Kochu TV,
I will
Enter
The bathroom
Shut
The door
And
Puff on
A cigarette.
Then
Another
Kind of
Game
That
Makes
Life
Intolerable
To live
Will
Pool
Around me
There.
Translation : Ra Sha
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
Lapsang Souchong
two sugars n me,
are owft on a charabang
jaunt to the sea,
with pickled egg Mary-
her three pekinese,
who are hairy quite scary
n chopped owft at the knees,
we are bringing darjeeling
and Oolong along
to twiddle their tootsies
and fire up their ****
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 11:42 AM UTC
*
An outgoing
Traveler left
his Tiffin carrier
at the rest house
corridor;
An incoming
Beggar opened it;
To see the debris of
two dead
white doves in it.
*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
[email protected]
www.williamsji.com
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
We're antique and aware of it,
old fashioned and they stare a bit, but that's a part of the charm, a penny farthing to ride on with gaiters to tie on, keeping the spats nice and clean.
Home for some tiffin and the lady's been shopping down at Macy's for doilies, thank god it wasn't Tiffanys for diamonds, the wireless set goes off and the gramophone's switched on, a 78 Bakelite revolves in the room where the mood's right for romance.
We dance modernistic, the Cha cha's futuristic, they'll never do better than this
then we kiss and say goodnight, in separate beds we sleep so tight and a strip of carpet between them, keeping things nice and clean, men,
you know what I mean.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
Paper ***** flew around the classroom
masquerading as a cricket ball
Hit as hard but managing to hardly go anywhere
The chaos in the class would soon end,
as the diminutive figure will walk in, book in one hand
Prying eyes trying to catch the laggards
shuffling back to their seat and
pretend to be very obedient and behaved lot.
The pinch, the hit on the arm with ruler, or the words
will bring about absolute silence,
masking the transient pain and shame,
that will soon followed by snickering comments and giggles
from those who escaped this time by their agility or luck.
The pencil boxes will soon start to play multiple roles,
like the actors in a play on a tight budget,
Transporting bits of papers with probable clues to the
questions put forth, the wrong answer to which,
could lead to repercussions of varying degree..
Like standing outside like a flagpole,
but failing to act as a deterrent to us incorrigible lot.
Lunch time will be like an oasis in the day of claustrophobic pedantry
where the darwinian principles will be set to test,
hands drawn towards the most delicious tiffin boxes,
the rightful owner of which will be lucky to even find a morsel
But however mundane and monochromatic sometimes those time may be
Looking back its was all worth it
when we could pick after 3 decades later where we all left off
and engage in hours of debating, leg-pulling, sarcasm, enlightenment
not withstanding the boundaries of time, space and temperament.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
baat wo jaani pehchaani thi,
school ki wo kahani thi.
subah uthke wo school ko jaana,
waha jate hi teacher ki daant khaana.
class mein chhup ke tiffin khaana,
or har galti par naya bahana.
class mein roz halla karana,
or galti khud ki pe dost ko fasana.
fir chup2 ke dost ko hasana,
usse kehna zara chehra toh dikhana.
pal haseen ye kahin gum se gaye,
ab hum sab alag hogye.
class wo humari ek kamra ban gyi,
or baatein humari yaadein ban gyi.
firse doston ka mela hum lagaynge,
par wo school ke din waaps na aynge.
Riya
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 6:12 AM UTC
I don't think I want to know no more
I've had enough of knowing stuff that filled my brain with grains of this and strands of that,stats and rats that chew the fur on ***** cats and bats no balls,Niagara falls and if it does why did it fell?,Tenses, tense that make me sick,Michael Miles and 'take your pick'
I can,not tin but aloo mini im or if you're Yankee alloo minum,oh what fun.I'm going round the twist,just spiraling not really ****** and reading down the list I see,
Her Majesty is having tea or as we say,a spot of tiffin,jolly good and splendid,spiffing,what a beezer that geezer is,Philip I mean and not the Queen,she's a lass I think and don't want to think no more.
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 2:34 AM UTC
A home away from home,
Is how I merily define a school.
Running in silent corridors,
Not wanting to go in morning assemblies,
Finishing lunch while teacher's teaching,
Passing chits when they caught us gossiping.
Our tiffin boxes were empty before recess,
Fun was snatching other's lunch then.
Years later don't know will these be remembered or not,
But those 'samosas of canteen' will really be missed a lot.
When teachers said " go out if you don't want to study"
We looked at each other to ask if they are ready.
We will really miss kabaddi and volley ball matches,
Between seniors and juniors.
Those lovely days of early ages,
And the open books with curly pages.
I will really miss each and every class,
Whether nursery or twelfth.
We will really miss,
The boring exercise of Saturdays,
And the 'Arora patties' on roadways.
We were sent to gain knowledge,
But we had all sorts of fun and games.
To teachers sending us out of class was a punishment,
But for us it was full source of entertainment.
Those lazy mornings and the lame reasons for not going to school,
Those fading school uniforms and opened shoe laces,
Those half opened eyes and closing school gates.
Few months later all won't be there.
Just a cherished memory,
Is going to become.
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 11:25 PM UTC
Will you marry me said he.
From a muddy spot on bended knees.
Sported a smile upon his face.
Wide as the crescent moon.
His was offer was good as solid gold.
But she said no.
He left her cold.
So very sorry to see him cry.
Had a heart you see.
She was too old to start anew.
A madam.
A madman.
Tiffin for two.
And now she bows.
After scuffling away.
(c)LIVVI
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC
We broke up,
Time elapsed,
I came to your home,
To give you a surprise,
I had the spare key.
I saw the wedding photo of you and your wife,
A shock,
You didn't waste time.
Then I saw the hot *** tiffin on
the table,
Of piping hot rice,curry and chapati,
I ate it all,
It was delicious.
She had written a note,
She was tired of your ego and haughtiness,
She was going to her mother for some days,
She had left you the food,
I would not have done so.
She seems nice,
Come down from your pedestal
and make your marriage work,
I still love you but, I want to see you happy.
Hold on to your marriage.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC
You all will agree that school life was best
Sharing same bench was undoubted blest
Heaven was there for these nestlings in nest
No idea of big world, everyday was fest
Different skins, uniform quashed that contest
Shoes were polished and badges on chest
One disliked his tiffin but others could digest
Football was punctured, but no fall in zest
Compass used to spin, divider stayed in rest
From pet animals to nomenclature of each pest
Notorious as school bus, nostalgic as class test
The story of nails marks, that fight, that jest
We thought it as home, but everyone was guest
Ready for their flight, tickling at the crest
Now few have jobs while others are in quest
One flock in the east, another flock in the west
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 5:01 AM UTC
I never saw the woman who talked the hind legs off a donkey
but I've met a chatterbox or two who lived in Crewe,
not in a box.
Nor have I heard a banshee howl
a tiger growl
but once I saw a matron scowl
before they did away with matrons.
Open to suggestions
and you thought my mind
was closed,
well
it's closed from one 'til three
for a spot of tiffin and some tea.
Life's all about the japery
the capers and the
shapes I see,
colours too.
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
The first day of school
In those alien looking environment
And terrifying classroom and teachers
Friends were the ones who made me comfortable
In between those four walls called "classroom"
Along with my friends, I found paradise
May it be Playing hide & seek or eating tiffin together
I found a family like feeling in those 6 words called "FRIEND"
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
Call it a day come back to me
Fierce the storm frolic in freak
Stress on and shake guy lines on quay
Fear grips the heart the mast looks weak
Tides roll out high like snakes with wings
I tie my raft on near by fence
Come back to me the voice still rings
Strong soft sound sacred soothing sense
Gentle arms wave warm welcome call
"Set and rest in your father's hall."
***********
The smoke, clock stroke the call for socks
The books iron box and school van's horn
Scaring the walls Tiffin box falls
Piecemeal songs from mobile ring tone
Smile waves bye-bye mopping up curls
Turning to rest from morning fret
A voice intrude bringing unrest.
"A very happy Women's day!"
************
That sound is high that startling cry
The turbulence did hardly subside
An ambulance flies howling by
A creak a crash, a rush beside
I C U through sealed chamber hole
And stand out all the overnight haul
As bills pile up and **** the soul
Encounter loans who bothers at all!
They start to wish a happy day
A fathers day or someones day!
**************
Is my day as God wanted it
Every day be a peaceful day
Every day be the Father's day
Every day holy Mother's day
Every day be a saint soul's day
Every day be every ones day
Every day be god given day!
Can you see the creator god
Can you listen to voice of god
Can you feel the presence of god
Or touch and taste the peace of god
And sing the hymn of praise to Him
To burn the flame of light of Him
To live in bliss and peace with Him
*****************
Poor man's faith lost in lord's precept
Swept away by evil concept
Lost in building all wanton lust
Bear burden of unending list
To fulfill in this brief visit
God's call back is loud and clear
I created all for you dear
Just come back and see for yourself
Environment's around your self
Father Son and Holy spirit
Men and women do well merit
So call it a day and come back and see
Come back and come back to me!
So call it a day and come back to me
Come back and come back to me.
Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 2:20 AM UTC
So much brave n herculean was to bunk the class..
Tonigt remembering those days with wine in glass..
We all started the journey of pen n paper on the same date..
Trust was so rigid, we were like brothers not just classmate..
Other's tiffin was more fascinating than the own one..
Finishing that before the recess ring, during early sun..
Snatching the snacks more than an octopus..
School bus turned into a poetry hub for us..
In school,Parents-teacher meet was like our red letter day..
Our complaints would be highlighted and we feared it as slay..
Staying ready at the door steps in just a single phone call..
Someone getting the bat and others collecting money for ball..
Watching dusshera or flying kites in hot weather..
Like carpels of an orange, we used to stay together..
Time was accelerating,teenage became prism..
Splitting us all,carrier at stake triggered activism..
In every high and low of life, only our dear friends came..
Like birds,now stay on different trees, but still the sky is same..
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 9:22 AM UTC
Remember when paper planes
glided through the air?
swirling and twirling away
in the autumn breeze.
countless pages of notebook neatly torn
and carefully given shape.
No avionics, no engines
just carefree flight of its own accord.
Oh the joy it was when they were
airborne, in classrooms, corridors,
and playgrounds. The battle for aerial
supremacy ensued as the tiffin bell rang.
The southern winds played with our
prized possessions and lifted them to glory.
diverse designs in all shapes and size adorned
the school atmosphere. Crafted by skilled hands
these beauties tumbled down to the earth
when the crimson Sun sank in the horizon and as
living memories framed in the portrait of time
and come next day, when thousand others
become airborne again under the smiling sun to
greet the wind, another day of adventure and fun
permanently added in our dream-books to offer us
a small token of freedom from our troubled lives.
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC