Yesterday was Vinayagar Caturthi festival. Visited the Thokaiyadi Vinayagar Temple, the new building nearing completion. Met many former Cheras 2 1/2 mls folks. All the people I know are old and the newer generation has grown - presenting unfamiliar faces. Set me thinking back on the good old days - such a fertile plot for literature. Got to embark on my writing again.

The artist within this old journalist

yet uninitiated - a barren land

Untilled, awaiting the seeds?

The festering seeds - concealed

Without the gesture of an inviting plot.

A vicious cycle unbroken .....

My niece, J. Dhakshini, a second generation artist in our family chatting with me and my wife, Thevasaina who is an artist herself. (Thevasaina's painting forms the header for my blog.)
 Dhakshini who lives in Chennai, India has a bright future ahead as she has a rich imagination and is a keen observer.
On the wall in this picture, is one of Dhakshini's abstract/symbolic paintings that she unveiled at her first solo exhibition in Malaysia recently.
Through these young artists we see our Cheras Art Circle growing beyond the confines of  its roots at 2 1/2 mls Cheras, Kuala Lumpur.

Hello there

Had gone missing for over four months. Glad to be back again.
Preparing to celebrate Sri Krishna Janmastami which falls tomorrow.

artistic ideas

Twain in 1867

Roald Dahl

 Re-read/listened about 10 chapters of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain on twitter. I last read this book about three decades ago. It was so wonderful and refreshing. Mark just like other children book writers such as Roald Dahl capture the child's perspective so well. Wish I could do the same. Coincidentally I bought a biography of Roald Dahl yesterday and am now reading it. Hopefully I will be able to use the insights of these two great children's book writers to complete similar books I am working on.

Its been a long while since my last post. Had been travelling quite a bit. To London and Scotland between Nov. end and first week of Dec. Had a great time - visiting Europe for first time. Was in Jaipur, India a week ago.
My head is filled with too many impresssions. Need to settle down a bit before starting to write about my experiences.

JOSE RIZAL, Philippine national hero. Most meaningful poem ever.

"Mi último adiós" (Spanish for "My Last Farewell") is a poem written by Philippine national hero José Rizal on the eve of his execution on December 30, 1896. Although the poem was untitled, this title served as an artifice useful as a quick reference. This poem was one of the last notes he wrote before his execution. Another that he had written before his death was found in his shoe but because the text could not be read it remains a mystery.
NO HOLDS BARREDRaja Petra Kamarudin

Mi último adiós
Farewell, dear Fatherland, clime of the sun caress'dPearl of the Orient seas, our Eden lost!,Gladly now I go to give thee this faded life's best,And were it brighter, fresher, or more blestStill would I give it thee, nor count the cost.
On the field of battle, 'mid the frenzy of fight, Others have given their lives, without doubt or heed; The place matters not-cypress or laurel or lily white,Scaffold or open plain, combat or martyrdom's plight,T is ever the same, to serve our home and country's need.
I die just when I see the dawn break, Through the gloom of night, to herald the day; And if color is lacking my blood thou shalt take,Pour'd out at need for thy dear sake To dye with its crimson the waking ray.
My dreams, when life first opened to me, My dreams, when the hopes of youth beat high, Were to see thy lov'd face, O gem of the Orient sea From gloom and grief, from care and sorrow free; No blush on thy brow, no tear in thine eye.
Dream of my life, my living and burning desire, All hail ! cries the soul that is now to take flight; All hail ! And sweet it is for thee to expire ; To die for thy sake, that thou mayst aspire;And sleep in thy bosom eternity's long night.
If over my grave some day thou seest grow, In the grassy sod, a humble flower, Draw it to thy lips and kiss my soul so,While I may feel on my brow in the cold tomb below The touch of thy tenderness, thy breath's warm power.
Let the moon beam over me soft and serene, Let the dawn shed over me its radiant flashes, Let the wind with sad lament over me keen ; And if on my cross a bird should be seen, Let it trill there its hymn of peace to my ashes.
Let the sun draw the vapors up to the sky,And heavenward in purity bear my tardy protestLet some kind soul o 'er my untimely fate sigh,And in the still evening a prayer be lifted on highFrom thee, 0 my country, that in God I may rest.
Pray for all those that hapless have died,For all who have suffered the unmeasur'd pain;For our mothers that bitterly their woes have cried,For widows and orphans, for captives by torture triedAnd then for thyself that redemption thou mayst gain.
And when the dark night wraps the graveyard aroundWith only the dead in their vigil to seeBreak not my repose or the mystery profoundAnd perchance thou mayst hear a sad hymn resound'T is I, O my country, raising a song unto thee.
And even my grave is remembered no moreUnmark'd by never a cross nor a stoneLet the plow sweep through it, the spade turn it o'erThat my ashes may carpet earthly floor,Before into nothingness at last they are blown.
Then will oblivion bring to me no care As over thy vales and plains I sweep;Throbbing and cleansed in thy space and air With color and light, with song and lament I fare, Ever repeating the faith that I keep.
My Fatherland ador'd, that sadness to my sorrow lendsBeloved Filipinas, hear now my last good-by! I give thee all: parents and kindred and friendsFor I go where no slave before the oppressor bends,Where faith can never kill, and God reigns e'er on high!
Farewell to you all, from my soul torn away,Friends of my childhood in the home dispossessed !Give thanks that I rest from the wearisome day !Farewell to thee, too, sweet friend that lightened my way;Beloved creatures all, farewell! In death there is rest !
Translated by Charles Derbyshire

This is how a poem should be. The urgency of the Jose Rizal's message to his people, so precise yet brief. The clarity of his message is truly amazing. Appropriately the poem reads as the last ebb of the patriot's life.