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FLEMINGO..(LONG POEM ON MIGRATED BIRDS)

Time is infinite
Time is a canoe
Time is a winged dove
Time is desert silence
Time is the rumble of the oceans
Time is the showering rain droplet
It is the tremor of the heart
Time is the lingo of history
Time is an eternal test
A non stop journey is time
A ceased path is time
Time is life
Time is a flow
Time is death
Time is the opportune right
Time is a tide
Time is the breath
Time is invisible
Time is tangible
Time is a scene of beauty
The breath of an atom is time
The tune of an iota is time
Time is the play of life and death
Time is the envoy of peace and terror
There is no shore that the time has not touched
And no ray of light untouched by time
Time is the manifestation of the ancient Brahman
The modern interpretation of duty is time
Time is earthly and heaven
Time is eternal
Time is the river of life
Life is a journey
In the stream of time!


(2)
Journey
Is a feature of instability
The flow
A lively spirit
Flower voyages
Pollinated
From flower to flower
The bird travels
As love
From shore to shore
As a lineage
Procreation
Is the maternal instinct
And desire for procreation
Is the essence of the expansion of the soul
Copulation
Is it only pertaining to the man alone?
Justice in creation
Flourishes in plural
Many rain droplets do make a rain
Umpteen leaves do make a tree
Millions of cells do make one creation
Loneliness is not the trait of the world
Embossing fetus in the ovum
The bird blows the warmth of breath
The cosmic universe is
Perceived in totality by the inner eye

(3)
Every move is a journey
Every death is a journey
Every birth is a voyage
Flight is the winning spirit of the migrating birds
The effort of the ocean of love
Is to procreate
As the oceans run
With the feet of waves
As the air flows
In wavy winds
As life continues
With the unending breaths
As the world rounds in
Non stop news
In wings and wings
Do fly and arrive these birds
The creatures with passion and patience
Thousands of kilometers of restless journey
To the destination afar
In search of wonderlands
A partly witness of the
Irrepressible instinct
The soaring birds flying
Like hunks of the rainbow
Like the seven colored sankranthi(pongal rangoli)
The flowing sea of the bird flock
Floats on the treasures of the blue oceans
The jingling song of the migrating birds
Is a travel
A stopover
A sojourn
A libido
All are the traces of the moving time….

(4)
The bird is the
Infinite freedom with sprouted wings
The eyes filled with a fear
And a shiver
As the soldier of the border forces
The bird is a being, all time alert
Onlooker with a quest
It is the bird that
Smears a mosaic of colors
To the ends of the wings
And tips of the tails
The bird is the one
Which casts net and
Catches hold of the
Jet velocity
And the splendor of winds
In the moment of hunger
It is the bird that
Surgically operates the available food
And feeds on it as a fork
Welcoming a dawn
The bird is the
Wake up call
To the society
Crossing a cold night
Slivering the foggy morn
With its beak
Flying fast with its legs apart
Runs the bird in prey hunt
Testing the air contaminated
From the farthest branch
Of a tall tree
It is the bird that removes the pollution
On a sunny afternoon
On a choicest water meadow
It is the bird that
Jumps and thumps
And somersaults
Playing water khabaddi
Fluttering the body
Dries its wings
Measuring the distance of thousands of miles
It is the migrating bird
That carries
The history of the other side of the world
To the culture this side
And the race of that land
To this generation here
The bird is the flying goddess of passion
A flying message of peace
Completing the journeys
By the twilight of dusk
Gathering near the tree
It is the bird that gets ready for a chorus concert
It is the bird that reflects
The mynahs of poesy
Gandharvas (divine singers) of music
And the doyens of music
Hunger, sleep, love, and passion
Are similar to all the living beings
Between birth and death
Birds too have relations
They are not promiscuous
Birds too have a social life
They do not know social betrayal
The bird that unfolds its broad wings of vast feels
Seldom knows selfishness
It does not contract with narrow mindedness
To the lady bird
That sits over in hatching
With all balance and patience
The snacks of Pulicot
Brought tucked in the bags beneath its nose
Is fed in pecks and perks by the male
The bird is beyond jealousy and hatred
To the villagers who saved it from
Any one shooting a bullet
The bird as a good Samaritan in ardent gratitude,
Makes the land fertile
with its drops
Gifting a three times crop and leaves the land
The bird must be a role model for the man..!!
For sincerity and commitment
And discipline.

(5)
Exodus is an unending journey
Migration an age old fete
When the hues of life’s backdrop change
Exodus is a weapon
When the clouds anger
Making scarce a droplet of rain
The village turns an exodus
To the anna datha (farmer)
The farmer’s life turns a coolie
Exodus transports a generation
Exodus changes the way of life
At times migration in life
Encircles as a whirl pool
At times drowns as a typhoon
It makes you travel out to the continents
For the sake of the tiny belly
There is no race and no religion
The hunger’s language is universal
It may sojourn over anywhere
Will make you do anything
Stretches its hand until the belly is filled
From a dark continent
On to the dais of light
From an icy country
To the warm place
Builds the bridge of the seasons

(6)
The pelicans moving on the wings of time
The flamingos that ram in the air car
The Painted storks flown in like kites
Fluttering on the Konkanai
Sails of the waves are the black cranes
As the ambassadors of many countries
Have taken part in the international conference
The nature is all over colorful messages of love
All the festivals of love of the bird tourists
Are happily celebrated by the youth
On all the branches of the land are the happy resorts
In whichever village lost is the eye
It is the hustle of the moving colorful dreams
Are the goods of the empires of Manmadha(god of love)
The secrets of Mithuna rasi(Zodiac sign pertaining to love)
The hundred puzzles of the colorful flying boats
All over the Pulicot lake is the congregation of romantic heroes
All over the sky of Pulicot are the airs of emotions
Each bird is a hoisted flag of poesy
The colorful parrot is a short poem of dreams
The dark legged crane that has soiled its feet in the dirt of darkness
Washes them in the blue Pulicot
The myriad colored sea-parrot
Dives into the waters as the water drawing pulley
Alone a great sage
Stands on single foot in penance
When in the shades of waters narayani(heron) appears
He chants the manthra of gutakayaswaha(i.e. to swallow it)
Folding its wings to the sides of time
Gudaswami(the paddy bird or pond heron)
Takes thrice a dip in the Pulitheertham(name of a place)
As if thousands of women
Are stilled as a picture
In the postures of classical Indian dances
On the dais are the postures of the imitating flamingos
The everlasting fight of the usurpers for the water treasure
And for the enticing damsels
As if the Nelapattu has blown the snake charm
Every now and then they journey to the home
Naughty kids being the waves,
Floating are the winged boats
The structure that has turned
The Pralaya Kaveri(stormy Kaveri)
Into pranaya Saveri(lovable Saveri(a raga))
In the radiant jugalbandi of the jalatharangini
Is the passionate shower of dazzling ragas
As soon as it dawns in Pulicot
Spreading the colorful carpet
Entwining the hues of spring and winter
Flows as a soaring garden of blooms
Watering the mouth of the awaiting sea.

(7)
The bird guests under the boundless skies
Are the messiahs of universal brotherhood
The romantic tales carried over by the great poets
The Manmadhas(gods of love) who well knew the secrets of love
Lovers they are, who have left their family and place
With an ardent desire to beget off springs
Though in the size of a seed, but vast are their hearts
Their eyes are like lamps without wicks
To spread light is their message
To perceive life is their philosophy
Life is a penance
Life is radiance
Life is a dawn
Life is providence
Life a tune of the creation
From generation to generation pervades life
From earth to heaven is the debate of puranas
Life is an eternal stream of time!
The birds are the flags hoisted by the King of time!!

(8)
There –
On each branch is a concert
In each nestle, a sonata
Every tree a cluster of myriad hues
A bird fete all over the lands
Chirps and tickles
Coos and laughs
Many a confluences of umpteen springs of ragas
Many a sum of joy
With the exciting songs of the round eyed ones
The climate is delighted
In the highways of power filled skies
A colorful dream unfolds
The milky-way
Turns a rosy hued stream
In the time of saran navarathri Saphari Theerdham(name of a place)
Relaxes in the conference of arts
The banjara(wagabond) birds that have come
Croon the songs of coos
They spread out the treasure troves of love
Onto the nest of the worlds
To the noises of the love making birds
All the stars peer down to the earth
The ways of love of the romantic hearts
Breathe out the passions in loneliness
Stretching his hands of rays, sun of the dawn
Applies henna in stealth
Unfolding the doors of their hearts
The blooms color themselves in serenity
Color is the manifestation of spirit of life!
The lands that were not greeted till the day before
Today are, the life of the birds summit
The trees that were faded till the day before
Are today the strings played veenas
Thousands of flute songs of Krishna
Now the morns of Nelapattu
Are the wavy streams of sweet melodies
Now the evenings of Nelapattu
Are the springs of songs of the elixir of love
A pelican tucks in its lover
Into the nestle of its wings
A painted stork nearing it
Woos its beloved with its long snout
The sabari crane in the tune of passion
Loses himself to the sweet song of its lady love
Turning its body into breath the wood pecker
Smears all over the body of its heart throb
Not only the floods of milky bosoms
But the ardor of sperm too flows
In the great yagna of the Santhana Lakshmi(the goddess of children)
Millions of lives are dawned

(9)
Not only the Devakakulu
But all the birds are the ancient kith and kin!
All our visiting birds are
Manvanthara purandharas!(the age old lords of Heaven)
We assume the Bulbul to be an alien
When have we seen it as a peace monger?
We feel the blind crane as the evil spirit
Have we ever counted it as the
Charioteer of virtue?
Though the python is black in color

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