Author Archives: sweetshalini

About sweetshalini

Shalini Samuel was born in Kanyakumari, southern tip of India. After completing her schooling from St.Teresa’s MHSS, Kanyakumari, she graduated in Information Technology and took her Master’s in Computer Science from Noorul Islam College of Engineering, Kanyakumari. She has been writing poems from her school days. Her poetic pursuits took a pause during her college years.Writing journey of Shalini Samuel started again as a blogger and slowly crept into Muse India. Holding the branches firmly she ventured into poetry. Her poems got published in International journal Tajmahal review and she also contributed to Inklinks anthology. She is currently editing e-magazine Fragrance and more of her poems will be published in journals in near future. Contemporarily she is venturing into fiction and essays too. She has written few poems in her mother tongue Tamil. Her passions include photography, gardening and cooking. She loves to take challenges and learn from it. She is eager to learn and cherish all nook and corner of writing. Here goes the link to her official Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/shalusamuel

The Camouflage

Oh, Chameleon,
As I drink my cup of Chamomile tea
You peep from behind the window
I keep watching the blue sea
Ignoring your drill on the portico.

The plantain leaves turn you green
And also to the colours that I have never seen
I wish I could be like you
When fate reminds me of my karmic overdue.

When I feel ashamed of my existence
And when guilt overrides my pride
I wish I could escape this life verse
Or get on your cloak, until the end of the tide.

Oh, Chameleon,
I wish I were like you, resting on the branch
Changing within seconds, my makeup
Daydreaming, while waiting for a catch
And also basking in the sun, doing a push-up

I wish I were like you…
But I promise, I never watched you on my portico
I was just looking at the tides of the distant sea –
Alas, I too camouflage!

chamaleon portrait close up on a tree background



The Coloured Pieces

I was once that broken glass vase
Scattered all over the universe
Colored, opaque and at times transparent

An angel gathered me
Dropped me in a dark chamber
Hoping I would be safe there
I grew into a ball of life
Slowly transformed into a fetus
And then entered the earth

My mother fed me food and knowledge
With dads’ protection, brothers’ love
And sisters’ guidance, I evolve
With aunts’ and uncles’ care
I stay safe in my grannies’ lap

A day came, friends walked in
With loads of love, great support, and motivation
they conquer my life adding more colors
Love, wedding, children, nephew, and niece
Grandchildren, grandnieces, and grand nephew
My family grew.

And again one day, this beautiful vase I am making
may break, shatter into million pieces
yet remain as a gem in the hearts of millions of people.

The Reverse Has Flown Down To The Seas


Down the hills on the river that flows, a poem lies there, and whatever
That soul of mine reminds me of the lost wanderer
of my thoughts, of the grand memories of my time
with the night-wind, the trees and their lonely presence;
where the sun would rise to the sky now and then.
For the wise said the soul of men will never fall asleep.
And I believe it even now that they fly to the skies often
To meet the Divine and the dearie’s,
And more than the dense forests the secrets they hold may be greater;
And they feed on food from the Heavens.
In my own heart and all my day awake
I see you, as a man born in a fantasy world
Where stones flew; the spirits in a never ending smile
In trees and seas you live, and white clouds..
There the master of many floats.

Your thoughts, cometh through the clouds into the street and beyond,
and I read it as it sets sail
and with a belief that it will never be wrong.
So addictive, the shapes thee maketh for me,
But at weird hours I hear the strange sound of thy hands,
Keep the pace, shall say that little spirit of mine for the fire keeps glowing
And I keep believing.

I will not be lessened amidst the tall and glittering worldly things.
And you all see in me the dying days, the youthful yesterday – the reverse.
She was a menace, you say-
When I walked the thorns, I entered a light, a lovely place to fly and rejoice.


Soul hunt

The unperturbed oceanic darkness hides a million secrets
Smugglers shipwreck and a pot of collyrium, a warmonger’s lance 
The bones of sailors and sea animals, pirates and prisoners alike
I count them one, two, three and infinity
Did they reach the road to Trinity
Or do they keep wandering over the waves, I ponder
I reckon. The colorful corals and the algae, what do they say
and the oldest and wisest turtle, twirling its head in wonder.
With no reply, I dive deeper and deeper into the dark unguided world 
Unfathomable findings evolve every time the churning stick turns
A dead civilization lives there with its gloomy statues and pottery
The fish that swims by silently pays homage to the oldest memories
Alas I discover a clandestine cave on the slippery rock with a clay pot
Unfurling the ties, out comes a stone that would never rot –
A rare expensive diamond from the distant eastern realm

It’s just a virtual examination of the oceanic bed, isn’t it?
just akin to the soul search in a meditation session, I proclaim. 
With virtual treasures, I move on for a real worldly exploration
Not wanting to go back to the dead and the rotten,
With the unearthed treasure bag, I pace to the present
The stored secrets in my DNA or my blood or my soul
May they not hinder the tomorrows of my life
The fears, the sadness, the pride, the sins, and the ghetto
The trail of my past, I shake off leaving no imprints 
In a new world, with an open mind, with fresh air, I open my eyes
With hope, with love, with confidence, with a smile – 
I traverse adversary thoughts. As the day sets, no more 
the effervescent dawn awakens enriched with blessings.

The certainty of uncertainty

How shall I know
When dead trees will produce fresh flowers
And when my beloved will come from the hills
And soothe this orphaned, bereaving soul
Oh, the cruel and kind fate!

How shall I know
When the breeze will be a typhoon
And when my beloved would turn red in anger
And thwart my dreams slitting my throat.
Oh, the cruel and kind fate!

How shall I know
When earth will break open
And when my beloved would become my foe
And leave me alone to wander on hills and valleys
Oh, the cruel and kind fate!

How shall I know
When the uncertain next second will be born
And when the uncertain love of my life would depart
With its green and blue bountiful beauty
Oh, the cruel and kind fate!

Nothing certain, nothing permanent
Travel with poise, travel with elan
Until you reach the end.

Trojan Horse

Standing on the threshold

She showcases the gold

That existed for eons

With the demons

I stare at her from afar.

 

I quiver watching her

Her hair smells of myrhh

Wishing not to touch

Fearing of a deadly clutch

I stare at her from afar.

 

Lust burning inside,

The new bride.

The trained decoy,

Awaits Helen of Troy.

I stare at her from afar.

The new Trojan Horse

Resides in every corner

Uncontended greed

It looks for.

It feeds on it lavishly

 

I keep staring at her from afar.

I am safe, I say to myself

What an irony, so are millions

Staring at the ills of the world

Doing no good.

Mind

Oh, being of violence and romance
In you, I see a mini Syria
You are a dictator
Extreme and adamant
Yet you fight for freedom
Freedom from yourself.
 
You hurt violently
You break your head
Pluck your own eyes
Perplexed you protect yourself
From whom do you run
When, you are the culprit?
 
Pity in your helpless eyes – rare
Your aggression kills my sympathy
Your agony milks tears from dead eyes
I pour gallons of milk on you
Red it becomes on your battlefield
You pull me into your confused island
 
Oh unwavering undecisive mind
I am scared of your impetus
I wish you dive into silent oceans
And not be scared of sound silence
Don’t scare me with your foolishness
Oh dear, enchant me with your penance

Why

Past has written everything
Future is an unsolved puzzle
Present is revealing its colours
Now, what shall I write?
And what shall you read?
 
Scribble my pen, the ignorant world
for the men who missed to hear
Scribble my pen, the unheard mysteries
for the men who are curious
Scribble my pen, whatever you feel
 
Yet, what do I write?
What do you read?
Does it make any difference?
Can it diffuse a bomb
Or can it stop an accident
 
Nothing can the poem do
Then why should I write?
And why should you read?
To just fool the mirage, time
Or is it a showoff?
 

The dead touch

Numb hands move over green branches
Trembling soul shudders – bitter cruelty

Scared, the foliage hides under the meadows
Along with the dust of the deceased – to perish

Beyond evil eyes, the seeds find solace
The day of resurgence, they long for

One by one, the fruits go into hiatus
The green succumbs to the dead touch

Alas, killing every inch of life
The dead hand feels the weak twigs

Resurrection of the prey, the dead craves
Through it he wishes to come back alive

Sinless and blameless past he wishes to create
Consequences force him to resuscitate the kill

The dead is dead, it cannot breathe again
Yet the seed rests somewhere in the wild.

The germinated seeds will catch him, one day
When HE forgives- over the passage of time