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  THE INDIAN FA-MALAISE The day star soared; As the westerly wind roared. A pall of gloom hung in the air; For the warriors’ courage was threadbare And the sword of Damocles was hanging by the hair. What might be our fate, son?  All this fight seems to be for no rhyme or reason. To what avail is all this bloodshed; If it can’t earn you butter or bread. Dear Father, thou hast uttered the truth; For there might be plunder and loot. We were eleven-strong; And ‘tally-ho’ was our song. Two of our gallant legions opened the battle; They charged with such ferocity that it was nigh impossible for them to rattle. Alas! They were brought down by the enemy’s Goliath; That was reason enough to give them blithe.  Oh father! How I wish our general were not a coxcomb; For his counterpart sensed it and struck him down with aplomb.  Then came the enemy’s weapon hurtling; That sent two more down buckling.  Why, oh, why son!  How many battles has pride alone won?  Despai...

  Introduction Kerala has a rich culture and heritage adorned with folklore of devas, devis and Yakshis alike. Whenever we visited my maternal ancestral home in the village in Palakkad, we would be regaled with stories of the infamous Odiyan. This poem is an ode to the legend of the Odiyan which was adapted into a film recently.  In the erstwhile feudal Kerala, the oppressed farm workers were the underdogs. Odiyan was their way of hitting back at their oppressors. They specialised in black magic which involved concealing a medicinal pouch in one of their body parts that would disappear and give them great magical powers like shape-shifting. This medicinal pouch was believed to have been made from an unborn foetus. The Odiyans would lure pregnant women to their hiding using black magic and extract their foetus by casting a spell on them. The next morning, these women would wake up to find that they had been mysteriously aborted. People were fooled into believing in the supernat...

And the paper read on the 28th of November,2011 that the popular comedian Leslie Nielsen died in his sleep.  I dedicate a small token of appreciation to him. You made us laugh Bereft of the slightest hint of scoff; Draculas and cops may never again seem so affable Your straight face humour is oh so incomparable; Like you there never again shall be Dearest Lez, I am going to miss thee.

 My first attempt at an acrostic poem.  W ithering leaves on the trees, I nteresting how they look N ow yellow, were once green, T ime will tell whether or not, E erie cold will R emain forever. -firefly