SIGNATURE

The loneliness is pricking me as I sit On the single seat in the second class Of the passenger train The buzzing sounds do not break my solitude And here I’m alone in this crowd The train whistled Neither the whistling nor the buzzing quenched My alienation The train covered unknown cities and villages And it goes to my homeland A journey from unknown to known! Mind is darting At last crossed Palakkad and still running A river can be seen soon after The train has left the station Which is none other than the Nostalgic river Nila The Nile of Kerala! At last I have found solace from this solitude Nila, You will always be there in my Good old memories You like the train travelers Traveling to your destination Now I can see the silence,sluggishness and Lack of life Once You were the embodiment of Life and invigoration Joy and mirth Full of water and sands All faded away in the sands of time And became a mere vein of water Still...

Literature is the only place where the past, present and the future blend. Yet we often search our yesterdays to embellish the leaves. Efflorescence of reminiscences either mirthful or pungent may be there. Whatever mellifluent it be, at last creates a nostalgic pain in the heart and torrid memories may become a consolation or a reminder. It is the irony of the time. Each literary work is unique. That uniqueness itself is its signature. It is not just a way of writing but the whole attitude and life reflect in it. Here I leave my signature… humble yet earnest.