i am looking for a pet kitten .. of 3 weeks to 12 weeks age.. preferably female.. no breed specification..
it should be lovable and not too outdoorish..
if any one can find it  .. please tell me...
my phone number:- 09995539709
thank you,
priyan

I have been thinking like writing for too long. It would be an unwise
truth if there is nothing really to talk about. There is lot of news
around me. Right about the nuke deal, terror strikes, Cash on vote, 3g
spectrum, the rains in kerala- and a lot more.

I am a bit frustrated over many things. Personal life and need to chill
out somewhere. The academics and joy of leisuring in a tea shop.. I
lose my connections and nerves.

Yes, let me recall the days when I began blogging. Those days I thought
I will find some lasting friends here. To my dismay I found none. Some
were real cheats, hideous and shabby.

And it just ended up as a business of who is reading and who is
commenting. May be the problem with my sex or stuff I am not sure. I
stopped blogging.

Then now am I really resuming..

I don't ever think I can get along well. I hate seeing comments or I
hate and feel sorry when I am not read. what a crazy guy! If in
othertimes I must have been in a good energy level because the climate
here is extremely pleasant.. It is well raining and green lush
everywhere and nice to stay calm  with a hot cup of coffee.. But I
am unfortunately not finding pleasure in all these.. I need to badly
find a holiday.. and perhaps that will help..

Another bane/ boon of your times- the mobile phone- i just can't do
without but its draining my account.. and I just don't know to
manage.,.If I had some people to share the expenses! No chance!

What did I begin writing...I don't know.. But I believe I will give a better writing next time...

This august 1 was palestine- Arab day in our literature academy and I
went for a video festival... So many of arab videos...The documentaries
by Mai masri- like th frontiers of hope and dream, the beirut diaries,
the short video- rise and shine.. And finally the' chavez- inside the
coup'...



I don't know if my where abouts are confusing or not.. But let me tell
, I am right now in thrissur- the final year UG student in veterinary
college, thrissur..

Hope some of you will write to me of what ever you feel about me and talk over to me..

and in that case to let me see it write to priyanagr@gmail.com

The insignia I forgot,

In this world whether I exist.

Each time I look into my hands.

They are white against darkness.

I am white and I wish to disappear.

But the world is dark and I appear.

Anything white can't fade.

.......................Priyan...........

I don't know the gem of me,

Its you who should tell me.

If there is anything at all,

Its what I know of me,

The truth you are my love.

Like the lone lost flower of winter,

Like the stone paved ways of our garden,

Like the morning birds that never forget its song,

I keep loving  though I keep losing out.

Its something I always find I am able to do,

The least I know if I am good in it,

The least I know if there is any good in it,

The best I know is,

I still keep loving you...

........................Priyan............after a long time......

Into the realms of my fancy,
Poetry of illusions,
Split open color sketches,
Thou painted a new collage.
A collage of veracity,
Of hapless frankness,
How come these test upon me?
Let me sing my frail throat,
And trickle on the mandolin,
It’s my life and liberty.
Celebrate, come on lets dance!

.............................Priyan..........

I am a broken bow,

An embodiment,

A monument,

A besieged land,

A broken promise,

A flightless bird,

A lonely prince fallen-

From the heights of fancy;

A withered flower,

From the grace of starry sky

Slithered in the rain and tempest of emotions

A nestling thrown out of nest,

Fallen short of a breathing space

Please contain! let me gasp,

Please come near my window side,

Gift me the music of empathy,

And the last drip before I am called,

For I know not to go, for I came not by me.

It’s not because some one is waiting, but I am waiting.

Just like a desert sucking the last drip of a wayward raindrop.

And like a mirage which bears a offended reverie,

I am just another for comparison; just compare and drop!

.......................................................Priyan

She vanished as a thin delusion.
Hurriedly into the jade meander past the garden hedge,
Ducking into the horrendous rain without an umbrella,
Her mellifluous voice now yells in my ears,
And it still rains with galore beside my window.

Dressed in pink, her white scarf wet-
And her glasses misted with raindrops.
Well hid her tears, as much her face with a pasty smile.
No doubt on her face, as much like the rain!
Fall down the skies, from the dark licentious clouds.
Never casts herself to the skies, which isn’t her.

It rains down to earth, all at once to those high and low.
It pours down the air, flows on the land, gushes on to waters.
Setting the tunes for merriment, she cries herself down.
And in her tears she brings glory to life.

In the cloud of tears that roll on her eyes, I see myself.
From her eyelashes I hang my life as a larva,
And the laughter I thought to whisper,
I heard in the trickle on the roof.
Each time it rains, I grope for a glimpse.
That dream which vanished into the monsoon mist.

After the sweltering summer, it rains to the bruises,
Sluicing away the blood, loathing and scalded lust
When she comes nearer, I feel like life returning.
But only to pass over as the tumult monsoon rain,
Leaving me drenched in the passions and pain of being loved.

My melody goes into the ruckus of the rain drops.
She walked away into the rain; as much now-
She is rain; I feel her dripping on to me.
Now into one we both become,
Rolling into the earth, its soil and dirt,
For life to grow up from the abandoned fallows,
And of souls which hasn’t been cured of lust for life.
And the flowers of this derelict valley,
Will sing to the world of our love,
As true as the monsoon mist.

------------------------------------------------------Priyan-------------

If this is not the day,
When we raid the woods,
To cut down all trees-the stalwarts of nature.
If this is not the day,
To grow money in trees,
If this is not the day,
To hunt broke game and steal aroma from musk,
If this is not the day,
To rob our water, pack and seal, make it filthier-
Still calling it mother;
If this is not the day,
To crease breathing heavens with warheads,
And drive home deserts;
If this is not the day,
To spill oil and dump trash to the seas,
Suffocating poor fishes with open eyes!
If this is not the day,
To pilfer out birds from their nests,
If this is not the day,
We do little to make the globe a hearth,
And letting ice caps melt.
If this is not the day,
We erect concrete jungles, and hangout with cocktail.
If this is not the day,
On to a world where plastic smiles greet one another,
Eating from plastic platters, fried out Kentucky,
Sipping the cola drink with savor;
If this is not the day,
Don’t we need a day?
------------------------------------------Priyan----------------------
Let us not make ourselves the unworthy sons and daughters of this soil and anymore forget this day, when we plant more smoke pipes, untreated drains, concrete jungles and sell Rivers in bottles. Let us share care and conserve this earth, strive to make it greener and brighter.
Because earth is life!

In the cloistered embrace of darkness upon earth,
I saw myself sleeping wearing black clothes,
On a white clothed cot that dangled on air,
With garlands of jasmine hung on it.
The air was dim, lighted by oil lamps on lamp posts.
From the starry sky above, she came down.
The sky was tan black, and the stars were innumerous.
Her glittery white clothes far flung her trail,
Bright was her face like the moonlight.
Her eyes, black and beautiful, the oceans of benevolence!
Her smile flew down like pure milk,
And her magic wand made stars on its wave.
She lifted my wretched body, and carried me on her lap.
Pulled off my dreary clothes kissing and wiping my bruises
She kissed away my tears, and gently brushed herself on my eyes.
She lowered down and touched my lips.
Her tender fingers striped into my matted hairs
She took off my hands gently, kissing on it so lightly.
Just as a gentle move of rose petals, I felt her hands.
Over me she pressed down, gently on her bosom,
And the deep of me, my frail heart, she just took it over.
And I forgot all those nightmares that castle me.
And see afresh, this isn’t dream, she spoke.
Like the melodies of thousand nights, dashing on my ears.
Once for I felt dearer, and drained,
I am lost in the sea of your love, my little angel.
Let you go, this is not the place for you.
And me, not the man for you, I cried.
And it just lost in the rush, I fell on her,
She held me deep down, to her lap.
Wiping me all over with her shiny black light hairs,
Looking at my face with her dreamy eyes,
Her smile so regal and reclaiming,
Her words as profound as poetry,
I heard the song of heavens, just playing the concerts for me.
She lifted me to her heaven, showed me the divine delights,
And poured herself to my throat as scarlet wine,
Dancing round her in a wild ecstasy, I found paradise in her.
I stood doubting if it’s my turn, as she turned now to my feet.
Kissing on her lips, I held her hand.
Rolled on the stone paved floor that shone bright,
With she over me and down over her again.
Kissing deeply with the lips on and I knew it’s the drip of love,
Drenching my deep within, and touching my marrow,
She brought her cheeks over my unshaven face, and rubbed all over.
Winding herself round my hips she sung her melodies.
And my dry, shaky hands searched her richness, and fell drowsy,
And now she gave herself a thump, trickling my merry.
The buds on the wild vines started blossoming,
And they started arching themselves down over us, growing over our tie-
Spreading their blossoms, green and fragrance,
And a flock of songbirds perched on, singing their melodies.
Soon there was a drip from us, and the gush flew down.
And it started raining, threatening to drain me away.
Now I had to search over for a roof,
And I started running, than now the agony of homeless.
Least for all these I await another dream, if it didn’t rain.

…………………………………………………………….Priyan……………

It’s not my song, nor is it my life.

It’s the blue-black cuckoo who found its perch.

Amidst the dazzling red flowers on bare grey branches,

The singing black bird on its metallic shimmering feathers,

Gaping at the gleaming sun, and the red flowers falling on waft,

The lone white cloud on the blue sky upon!

If it’s some other time; if it weren’t full in bloom,

Will you be here on this dreary summer noon, my cuckoo?

It’s this tree standing whole year, to bear its flowers just on this summer.

And if the summer isn’t agony, it’s for you my mayflower.

It’s a garland of red to the sky, for rain gods to descend.

Bend their neck, for if it’s a bit cooler.

And for the passersby it’s just a standing wonder,

That if a tree can smile at the hem of summer heat.

So for now its mayflowers, the smile of the summer!

If this isn’t life, there is never ever to be.

Bowing to thee, my mayflower, you tell it summer.

And you bring it with all smiles.

-------------------------------------------Priyan----------------------------------------------------------------

(Nature has wonders on its store, like say because its life!)