Author Archives: Vijinarayan

About Vijinarayan

I am a freelance writer based at Coimbatore in India.An avid reader and an occasional blogger, I write for popular newspapers in India and for many online Platforms. A cancer survivor trying to live every single day of my life meaningfully.

Walk together

Walk together if you want to travel far

How far is far we never know 

But let some one always walk beside you.

Walk together if you don’t want to see your own shadow,

Shadows may not be scary-But they cannot be inspiring either

So walk together.

Walks can be long and tedious,

Your pace cannot always match

You are a little too fast or a bit too slow ,

But a co-walker is always a blessing .

Walking tall we sometimes forget the world around,.

You are neither indispensable nor immortal,

your fellow walker can always put you in place

So walk together -for your feet to be strongly on ground.

Walking on unknown sands can always be tricky,

Hold on to your fellow traveller’s hand

Warmth of that hand can make you walk safe.

Walking with a lurch to the end of the tunnel ,

Leaves you gasping and panting

But the traveller beside you with shaky steps ,

Can hold your hand and save you from a fall -So walk together.

Global citizen

Last night’s slumber was cut short by the sound of the crackers,

I was having a lengthy conversation ,

With my partner of four decades in my dreams ,

As always he talking to me with his glance

Fixed on his phone in hand-

Recollecting it verbatim I was struck by something ,

Oh my God what do I see?

Subtitles of our conversations in Tamil?

Looking at those scrolls in English I knew for sure

Now I am a global citizen! .

Gandhi comes visiting

In the wee hours of the morning  ,

I was shaken up from my sleep

By an unbelievable  dream.

Here I was standing in my living room,

Standing next to me and conversing with  me was Gandhi-

(I mean the real one , Mahatma)!

With the ease of a cake walker I was talking  non-stop ,

To the man who changed the face of this earth with his staunch ideas.

I couldn’t remember our conversation,

I was awestruck by the fact that

A man of his stature would visit me even in my dreams.

Then started my analysis of my dream,

Why Mahatma? why now.?

Was it because I was at the end of the tunnel of my life?

Did he come as  the light to lead me out?

Was this man who always  experimented with truth

Trying  to show me the path of truth?

Was it his way of making me brave ?

As a man who fearlessly tread the world with truth as his weapon-

Was he making me face the truths of life

And walk the rest of my path with head held high?

I couldn’t decode my dream,

But  I could  fathom  how good I was feeling,

Well who wouldn’t  feel good when-

Mohandas karamchand Gandhi visits your living room for a chat?!!!

My Warring legs

“Six decades of coalition comes to an end”
Threat was from my old tired legs.
But how can a relationship be snapped this way?
I adamantly demanded an answer-
“After all “I declared “you are just a part of me,
And have no right to threaten me like this”.

Then began the lament of my legs-
“Don’t you teach us what our rights are!
Have you ever treated us with love and affection?
We have always been taken for granted ,
Let us make it very clear to you dear thankless lady-
“We are not a set of Indian homemakers to be taken for granted infinitely!”
Diwali ,pongal, ganesh chaturthi or a birthday of your loved ones,
Long rows of mouthwatering dishes you made all for your darlings
Have you ever thought about us for a moment ?
Had we not supported you for hours and hours together?

“Long walks around the temples praying incessantly for something,
Carrying home a big bag full of vegetables for an array of next day cooking,
Running after a loaded bus at the last minute –
All this was made possible because of us .
You never gave us our due and
We have supported you for half a century and more,
Now enough is enough we are breaking our ties with you!
With helplessness and disbelief ,
I kept looking at my warring legs!!!

I love my white locks

I love my white locks
They are the memoirs of a battle,
A battle fought fiercely and a battle field of fire.

My snowy locks are like phoenix birds
A whole flock of them,
Rising from the fires of chemo,
Bleached by the red devil
Roasted by the radiation
They murmur in my ears
Words of love and hope,
Every time I want to give up they
Remind me of a battle fought with vigour
And the days of incessant sinking-
Like Arjuna listening to Krishna
I listen to my snowy tufts every single day,
Reflecting from my mirror they utter to me
On a daily basis – same little words