Cooling Glasses
I wore the cooling glasses
The dye clad world
was beautiful in a way
Dyed up humans
looked into my eyes
Someone asked
why this glass
I intended to say
a thousand reasons
He did not believe the truth
I removed the glass and put it down
The world
was beautiful in a way
Note: Perception and Attitude matter
I wore the cooling glasses
The dye clad world
was beautiful in a way
Dyed up humans
looked into my eyes
Someone asked
why this glass
I intended to say
a thousand reasons
He did not believe the truth
I removed the glass and put it down
The world
was beautiful in a way
Note: Perception and Attitude matter
சாயம் பூசப்பட்ட உலகம். சாயம் பூசப்பட்ட மனிதன் இங்கே பூடகமிருக்கிறது. உலகில் மனிதர்களில் பிரச்சனையில்லை நாம் பார்ப்பதில், எதைக் கொண்டு பார்க்கிறோம் என்பதிலிருக்கிறது.
ReplyDeleteOther side of it we are forced by world, situations and surrounding , society people. Due to them we are forced leave our habits. loved ones.
Dad's version
ReplyDeleteCooling Glasses
I wore
the cooling glasses
the colour coated world
in a way it looked beautiful
the colour coated people
looked into(stared at) my eyes
one of them asked me
why these glasses?
Thousands of reasons
I tried to tell
he didnt believe the truth at all
I removed the glasses
the world
in a way looked beautiful
An everyday object converted into a filament or veil that divides the world from seeing to perceiving. Behind those sunglasses are keen eyes that are willing to observe and be observed. It’s willing to be undressed of the tint and see the naked truth …and hellya! it isn’t soo bad.
I do like the attitude he carries in this poem, someone willing to enjoy the world with or without the glasses. He paints a very iconic figure of a modern man with his modern look like Jean Belmondo in Godard’s Breathless to De Niro in Taxi Driver to Amitabh Bachhan in Dewaar and the Rajnikath in Avargal all anti-heroes, contemplative and dressed in those dark sunglasses…in these heroes is also a mirror of the poet whom we can perceive but never see, sinister and sexy... It’s close yet far…
The faded aviators of Aatmanaam is inside my grandma’s little yellow-cotton-cloth-bag things of Madhu.