Padmanabhan Ananth

Padmanabhan Ananth Poems

Oh Nirbhaya, have we lost you in vain?
Was it you to blame to just be a woman?
That you didn't remain home past setting sun?

He stands there sadly in a street corner
Rust eating metal, fading yellow colour
Possibly years back quite many
He'd have trundled but majestically

A score of years ago at our home town
When your mom's wheeled to labour room
Faraway, I entered my new job's interview room
I much missed your life's earliest moment!

He came home with me carefully wrapped in my suitcase

All the way from Delhi

She's, on my mom's side, a first cousin
A chirpy cheerful octogenarian
With ever an old-world charm
And smile that will instantly disarm

So do we at all now need a debate truly
About this: the humble cup of coffee?
May be necessary, may not be obligatory
But I'm starting one through this poetry!

That mystery 777 Boeing
That flew off KL for Beijing

Onboard those 240 dreams

Do you, of the fine Sunday evening's moment
When the nurse, wrapped you in tiny blanket
You were just born, the last day of February
Your mommy still recovering from delivery?

By his kind, as a boy, I was so fascinated
When I saw men balance and busily ride
I'd imagine they're sailing over fluffy cloud
Freely wherever, whenever they dreamed!

What's in a New Year's Day, I did wonder?
Just another day in the Gregorian calendar?
Romans did consecrate, it to the great Janus
To face past-n-future, the God's two faces.

There are many of these shrubs around this place
Evergreen bushy leaves, seeming ready to embrace

But only few months in a year bloom they will

I’ve had this rather pleasant dream
A few times in the past in this lifespan:

Whizzing poles made strange wind-tunes
Cool gusts from windows glided over my face
Coveted seat reserved with effort
On journey doze, can't waste even a minute!

A radical spoke on religion
A politician condemned him
And all hell broke loose
In the name of God

Walking from The Louvre to Musée d' Orsay
In Paris, winter afternoon of a relaxed Sunday
When I decided to spend the day on arts
Fancied as I took a journey of 'love locks'!

We left our apart-hotel at noon of a hot day
Sweat beads of anticipation in downtown Dubai
Cool comfort of sparkling white Land Cruiser
At wheel, chattering but adept Pathan* driver

We were friends living in the same locality
In two grades of a school both did study
Though he was a year than me younger
He believed, behaved far more mature


Hanging silently
Transforming caterpillar
To beauteous butterfly.

In a corner of the swanky airport
He sat cross-legged in comfort

He seemed of Caucasian descent

Padmanabhan Ananth Biography

I've always aspired to be a poet but career interests being away from this, this passion remained unaddressed and even forgotten till recently. Now that it has resurfaced, it's an enjoyable pastime - searching for right poem topic, then creating word strings to make verses and finally uploading a poem that pleases my mind and heart. At the end of a two- or three-hour exercise resulting in uploading of a new poem, I'll stand up content and refreshed! © 2013-2014 Padmanabhan Ananth. All rights reserved.)

The Best Poem Of Padmanabhan Ananth

Oh, Nirbhaya!

Oh Nirbhaya, have we lost you in vain?
Was it you to blame to just be a woman?
That you didn't remain home past setting sun?

All you did was board a Delhi city bus
And then you'd to face six-n-half devils
That were evilly strolling for prey on streets

Why pick on you those evil marauders
To pierce you with their rotted organs
And use on you, gosh, even rusted tools!

They threw you on streets to simply shiver
You begged to passers-by for warmth-n-water
When help finally came, your life was on totter.

Reminds me of a drive on a state highway
When a thousand crushed butterflies lay
Their lifeless wings, soulless bodies one day

Your assailants eventually may go to gallows
After judges-n-ministers reject their appeals
But will it still let your soul rest in peace?

What about rapes, assaults that just don't abate
Across breadth of nation, every city-n-state
What about the women in India - their fate?

Women's Safety Fund - allocated but not used
Police force, beacon cars - only misused
Loopholes of law, lawyers - so abused!

In this vast land we claim a civilised society
Where the female form is respected as 'Devi'
But here many men turn evil at sight of lady!

They blame dress, movies, music - impish
For their petty perverted thoughts - so devilish!
We must just call all their bluff - selfish.

Sitting here I pen-n-pray your soul gets respite
I take a pledge: women I shall ever respect
And work, in any possible way, to protect.

Padmanabhan Ananth Comments

Padmanabhan Ananth 15 January 2014

Dear Brian, thanks for your appreciation. I realize that I could have used a term better than too good which clearly wasnt that! But what I did mean to say was that that language you've used in your poems is indeed very good. Incidentally, my medium of instruction has been English and I'm more comfortable with this language than with my mother tounge. But I guess errors do creep in. I will separately send you a list of some of my favourite Tamil movie hits. You may be able to get DVDs with English subtitles. 'Annakili' is a tragedy in monochrome; a very touching movie in an Indian village setting. I thank you also for your appreciattion and for the high ratings you've given to my two poems. I'm a novice here so my language and use of phrases may still need improvements. - with regards, Paddy.

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Brian Johnston 14 January 2014

To my fellow PH family of poets, here is a new poet worthy of your support. Only here since January of 2014 with 37 poems already and now 154 on the popularity scale. To Padmanabhan I say (in jest) Your English is too good, he said, That clearly indicates that you are foreign, For while others are instructed in their native language, English people aren't. I am something of a foreign film aficionado and would love to see a list of your favorite Tamil films if you would be so kind. I will certainly look for a DVD version of Annakili. I am a sucker for titles, and loving music as I do, The Master of Melody was the first poem I read, My Departed Brother, was the 2nd. I have given you a 10 on both. MDB is a fine tribute to your brother filled with honesty, regret and loss. I assure you I will come back for more. I feel sure we are destined for friendship. It is an honor to be the first to welcome you in this special way.

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