chimes of a forgotten melody

- To the late John Abraham, the only Keralite to be free!  - In my constant walks towards self realization I have met and known people who changed the way I think. John Abraham, a film maker from Kerala, whose works still inspire countless budding film enthusiasts, remains a prolonged idol for me. It is for his anarchism, his passionate yearning to be free that I devote this work, even though I very well know it won't be anything of a tribute to his dynamic life. - Note : The character in this story is named John, but in no way is this the story of John Abraham. - John couldn't sleep that night. He woke repeatedly to claim a lonely chair by the window which looked onto the small and medieval path leading towards his home. There was an eager wait, the source of which John could not fathom. He watched the moonlit path, which for generations brought home perfect brides from all over his locality to proliferate his family population and ensure the sustenan...

A mother is not merely a woman, but holds within her a ceaseless love, within which she creates a spell of constant care. It is hard to imagine the chemical combinations which makes this love universal, all I could do is watch, spellbound, at this love and envy every child resting peacefully on their mother's arms. Courtesy : The Mag Like mist before the Sun, Like an august spirit's triumphant run, Her words for me like cautious trust, Her arms, generous and snug, In her grasp I felt numerous and warm, Within her care, in constant delight, Leaving behind truths, of disparate moods, Forgetting the World's unfamiliar rhetoric, I wish to run back to my mother's hands, I wish to be enveloped within her cordial hug, Where in I shall be a child, if so for an alluring trice!

- Dedicated to the Malala Yousufzai for inspiring countless souls and motivating them to take up education - Courtesy : Mag 240 Photo by Tom Chambers Hills of misfortune and rivers of sorrow, From the chronicles of lost privilege, Her feeble foot carried on the bout, Leaving footprints deeper than gorges of misgiving and extended malady, And when she broke the boundaries of thought, Her life glazed like colors through snow, Words of strife, now fables of time, Lest the world forget her passionate riot, Time is now to open your heart, Break the cage and follow her steps, And I shall continue to sing this immature song, To praise a woman of impeccable arm!

" The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao; The name that can be named is not the eternal name. The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth. The named is the mother of ten thousand things. Ever desireless, one can see the mystery. Ever desiring, one can see the manifestations. These two spring from the same source but differ in name; this appears as darkness. Darkness within darkness. The gate to all mystery." - Lao Tzu - Inspired by Fritjof Capra's 'The Tao of Physics' - It is often said that destiny is something which happens involuntarily, often inexorably and in the end having a deep physical impact. To many, destiny was a way the world tend to remain scripted. And to even more, it was a way God enacted his hilarious anecdotes on his overly exasperated creations. Neither of those views on destiny distressed Krishna Kumar in his daily walk towards office. He didn't blame destiny when a speeding freighter collided ...