Suruma Writes On...

I f I have a dream, A dream to reach high and high But never low, It would be of reaching the Moon, The ball of Glory The blessing From the Creator to us! It gleams in the dark ocean Above our heads With its friends, Its twinkling friends! I once stepped onto ; The gleaming ball And found the long trenches Or the so called crators! They gave me a fright But then a laugh! I think I travelled by a ship; A sort of ship. And then placed my heels Onto the moon. The glorious ball, Welcomed me as a guest, It showered me with flowers! It waited for me with light! And quenched my thirst, With its new drop of water! I came back , My little head held high, My mind filled with pride Back to the ship; To the Earth. Only to find myself on the floor Laughing my heads off!

The leaves of the mighty trees Awaiting a good sleep, After the loneliness of the day; The turmoil. The birds give their goodnight chirp The mother nurturing the babies; Keeping it safe  under its wings. There the  city closes its eyes The street light turning off The buildings, the power switching off after a bustle of the busy town. Whether  in the small hut or big monsterous houses, The young ones pull up their warmth giving bed sheets, Not missing their goodnight  kiss Hugging their teddy bears Here the world goes to sleep After a day of work and play After a day of weary living The city prepares to close its  eyes. But  I  wonder when God has his round of sleep Or does He ...?

There they lie, The two barred, steel windows: With the lock left bare The curtains pulled afar Tied to a knot. The clusters of sludge Hanging on to lintels Giving a rusty semblance. The knocked down pieces of paint, That leaves an orange back drop, With the ants marching off, like Soldiers in an army: Carrying food and eggs The great saviours! The windows, they bring me the ……..faces Of the path of coconut trees And the small hut over Embedded with creepers,and the solitary wall Erect, firm and sure of itself, Making space for the bricks To show off.  The windows! I could sit near them And gape out through. To see the homely earth. The windows! Where everything gluts into everyone’s head, Where every new creation Takes its form, The windows!

"Marley was dead to begin with.There is no doubt whatever about that.The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman,the undertaker and the chief mourner.Scrooge signed it.And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose to put his hand to.Old Marley was dead as a doornail."      This is the first paragraph of the all time favourite Christmas story of well known British author Charles Dickens-'A Christmas Carol'.A wonderful and meaningful story,I ought to accept!Dickens has once again established his worthiness in my mind ,if he has already done the same in yours,after novels like ' David Copperfield' and 'Oliver Twist'. 'David Copperfield' is his autobiographical novel while 'Oliver Twist' elucidates the plight of  Oliver.But 'A Christmas Carol' is disparate.It is a dexterous story,when the glum old miser Ebenezer Scrooge discovers the world of love and happiness rather than that of money and h...

It's like a protagonist, Elucidating to us, The life,the laughs The love,the joy The changes and moods "oh! life is like the seasons!" The childish sun, peeping Out through the silver lining Struggling to emit all its strength! Then the cloudy days, With the firmament, Quite angry and frowning. But alas!showering down All the blessings Up from above! And here comes the trees Dotted with orange,brown and yellows. Bright, though they might seem Are really dull days for the trees! Colourful, though they make the streets, Are really dark days for them! But not so late Comes the blooming buds, The Mazard trees hanging with cherries: The colourful days, Which brings in hopes and joy, In the young faces! So,comes the cool side, The windy side of all good things: With the leafless branches, Reaching up the long blue cloak! The poor,running helter-skelter For their comforts! These are the seasons, With reasons and Their own justifications! ...

My Silent Friends I have some friends Whom I love the most They take you, To every corner of the world; My silent friends! The happiness,the misery the anger,the love. They talk of superstitions, Of ravishing things, And maybe of isolated people, And, of their grief. Sometimes they make us laugh And sometimes, cry You are tempted to turn back  Whenever  you see them stare at you, Waiting to share their experiences. It is through them  That I am me,myself! Books are just the kind of friends, I would love to have!