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Showing posts from January, 2007

My name is Raamesh Gowri Raghavan

My name is Raamesh Gowri Raghavan. I am 26 years old. I live in Patanjali hostel, TIFR, Colaba. I have a house in Thane. My father and mother and sister live there. My father is a trader. He retired from the army. My mother is a housewife. My sister is a psychologist. Our dog's name is Puppysingh. He is a very smart retriever. I taught him many tricks. I am doing my PhD in TIFR. I was a JRF in Pune earlier. I did my MSc in Biology. I did my BSc in Microbiology. I want to become a scientist and a writer. My hobbies are reading and cycling. I like collecting stamps and coins. I like little fruitflies. And snakes and spiders and ants. I like writing poetry. I like writing short stories. I make up original plots. I like to write in my own style. I write about many things. I do not write about Malgudi. I AM NOT R. K. NARAYAN.


"Remember Sundaram Mama’s Standing joke? “I retired from Godrej and Boyce. But wife didn’t retire from Godrej and Girls!” He told it everytime. Forty year’s service without a blot, Daughter married off to America groom. Or Venkatesan Mama in 25B? Left early and returned late To avoid the rush hour crowd. No children, and no regrets. Or Jayaram Mama? The one who secretly returned potatoes, Purloined by his wife. And Sita Mami? The one who would turn up After the poojai ended And take a whole flaskful of payasam? And Pankajam Mami? Sitting under the barren mango tree To extract gossip from passers by. I don’t blame you for not remembering. I had to make up their names To write this poem, for; I have forgotten the original ones. They were meant to be forgotten."

My second love poem

Dewdrops exist but for a moment and die with the morning Sun." The pearls of her laughter Those giggles, those blushes: Pangs of a first, intense love. Dewdrops. "The ant waits upon them for the water of life; Would not the heart?

My First Love Poem

This night I shall dream of you and potatos and rafflesia. This night as all nights, I long to kiss your tin-plated lips. In my dreams we fly on the dodo of love, skimming vast continents of postage-stamps and nostrils. The seas shall never separate our gins. Its waters wave like small bearded angels greeting us from afar. We shall feast on chocolate-coated bandana and tend to an exodus of love. Adorned in white silk, crown'd in cabbage mounted on an alligator, thou art my queen.