Father to son- a tribute

My Son left us a decade back on Nov 21^st ...a bizarre.sports accident..a Javelin. Killed him

Papa one last over. My Krishna was born on 4^th February 1982 early morning to the mixed sounds of Suprabhata, Church bells and Azan.. He grew fast and well, a joy for

all of us.

At the age two and half he became Baby King in a contest. Since then he never looked back. He excelled in sports and studies alike; above all he was a great human being, As a son he taught me a lot..I was always with him, accompanying him to all his tournaments be it TT, Cricket or Basketball (He played Zonal under nineteen in cricket, he was under sixteen district Basketball captain and a State level TT player and always among the top five in his class).

It was his first inter school cricket as usual I went to see him, his team mates were walking out of the ground. I enquired about the results of the match I was told that they own the match. This of course thrilled me. I anxiously asked about Krishna. He got a hat trick uncle. My joy was unbounded. Soon I saw my son walking up with his usual smile. With all fervor I shouted hey Krishna hat trick. He just said papa they were not all that good in fact I did not deserve the last wicket. It was a real damper to my enthusiasm. But instantaneously my son taught me not to claim what you really don't deserve THANK YOU my son.

One day my son told me that one of his team mates was nudging him badly on the Basketball court.. Dad I can also give him back but I think I would rather concentrate on my game he would eventually stop and it did happen. THANK YOU my son to teach me not to do tit for tat.

On another instance my son told me that one of his class mates was very keen to own a cycle but he can not afford it . You know dad I have a cycle I am not using it much my friend wants it and he has saved fifty rupees.. Do you mind if I give it . there was a lump in throat I said yes you could.. Krishna knew we had purchased it for much much more only a couple of years back and he was very much found of it. THANK YOU my son for teaching me that charity begins at home.. We used to play cricket every day and Krishna had the habit of asking for one last over.Krishna I am waiting for that one last over. but all that is there is a void a void inside and out.There are many more thank yous above all THANK YOU for all the love you gave to all of us..

Krishna My Son

Krishna was full of love for all

He our sunshine and laughter

Towered over us for his fifteen years

Studies and games his forte

His painting filled our cup of joy

The thud of his square cuts

Filled our corridors

Bang went the ping pong

Over his opponents head

A shy twinkle in Krishna's eyes

That day was his jumps day

Triple and high at a meet

A killer force hurled a javelin

That spiked my son's head

He is no more

We want to hold his hand

But he is no more

We want to ruffle his hair

He is no more

Fate- but why?

Oh God where were you?

Poem from The Week Jan 31 1999

Darkness squeezing him in

Dawn has left his zone

Memory failing one by one

Faces are blank no identity attached

Some names float by

Flotsam in the ocean

I stand in front of him

Looking at his angelic face

A flicker of recognition moves across

Mone (son) he says extending his hand

Events fleet around

Temporally not connecting

Wants to hold on to memory

Indira Gandhi is his PM yet

A man whose thoughts stirred

Statesmen to writers of recon

Memories slipping away like an eel

Juxtaposing into one another

Rolling into a cauldron of desperation

His face reflects unknown agony

Inner core crying out

Love failing, meaningless utterances

His favorite dish in his plate

A microscopic smile on his face

Or was I imagining it

Touch, taste and smell mean nothing

No associations, triggers no feelings

Hemispheres parting

Neurons snapping with a miniscule of light

Billions of flickers ushering in the darkness

His wife was the connectivity

The last shred to reality

Bave was what he called her

With more neurons snapping

Bave was lost to him

Hemispheres parted

With last of the neurons snapping

He slipped away in his sleep

Alzheimer claimed greatest of thinkers

I have ever known

K.V. Radhakrishnan

Utter ki oar rukh kiya

Ja pohunche ek hostel mae

Kuch muskaye

Kuch gurraye

Bole kabhi bolte ho chatang

Kabhi bolte ho patang

Khan ke ho tum bhai

Mae bola na mae uttar ka

Na mae dakhin ka

Na mae purav Ka

Na mae pachim ka

Mae to hu bhai

Bus hindusthani

Bachpan bita Delhi ki

Vadiyon mae

Khoob kanche khele

Khoob patang udayi

Jawani ne li angdayi

Ankhe char hui

Dahkin ki oar rukh kiya

Lekar sarso ka saag

Aor makkai di roti

Grahasti kuch ulghi

Kuch sulghi

Ek din srimati boli

Gas chahiye

Mene doston se poocha

To bole

Gas ki killat hai na mile

Saalo saal

Yek sardarji ki dukan hai

Ham ja pohunche ducaan

Bole angraji mae gas chahiye

Likh do pata lagenge

Saal do saal

Phir ham hindi mae bole

Gas chahiye javab mila

Cheh mahine to lagenge hi

Hamne pir panjabi mae kaha

Saanu gas chaeda hai gharoo loki

Aare ne

Pehli dafa sardarji ne hamari taraf dekha

Kaha hune layjao

Bhasha to bus dwar khole

Na karo bhasha aur praanton ka

Vivad

aab samay aa gaya hai

Muthi band karne ka

Na raho uttar ke na raho dakhin ke

Na raho purav ke na pachim ke

Bus ban jao hindusthani

Bus ban jao hindusthani

K.V. Radhakrishnan

I was born in a village of coastal Malabar. To be specific, Tallacherry in "God's own country" Kerala. This bit of land has people who are very reactive, left inclined, however rational and strangely God fearing mind you not God loving.

Almost all of us have our own perception of God. To some he/she is a great benefactor all prevailing, loving, and all knowing, despite the fact that none of us have seen him in embodiment. To some he is a fearsome, punishing, ritual loving, bribable, give and take type of a persona.

One may ask what about you? Well I was born into a believer's family and continued to be so. However at a point of time I would have flipped and badly so and got stuck in a quagmire of no return. I lost my son in a bizarre accident at a sport meet when a javelin

thrown out of turn pierced my son's head. What I could not understand is why my son, what was his fault? (not that it should have been some one else oh God no). The issue is my son was walking, javelin was traveling in air freely and it picked my son. How do science explain it? (I happen to be a scientist). I have no answer. Call it destiny, call it fate, what? Then it truly dawned to me that there are things beyond we mortals some how what has to happen happens. Lot many things have no answer and this incident was one of those. I took recourse to be God loving in the knowledge that my son Krishna is with Him and hence loved and safe. Thus I believe God is not ritual loving, bribable. You don't have to go to places of worship give offerings etc. I feel since we all are his children all we need to do is look after his children and He will look after us.

K,V.Radhakrishnan

A plastic bag

With an empty pizza box

peeping out of it

He clung to it dearly

He sat on the steps

of a posh colour lab

His blue jeans not too old

His white T-shirt muddy

Beard of two months

Cheeks shrunken

He muttered something

put his hand gingerly in the bag

Out came a small empty pet bottle

Smelt it and laid it aside

A smile crossed his face

Next came a plastic tumbler

Droplets of coloured liquid in it

He suddenly laughed and laughed

a laugh between a belly laugh

and a throat laugh

He crossed the line not too back

Soon his dress would wear off

Digamabar (sky clad) he would walk

Flip he did

Sorrow or anger who knows?

We all flip time and again

Anger or sorrow

Pain others

His grace pulls us back

From the thin line

I would have flipped

When my son died

He pulled me back

Could I still..

Who knows?

K.V. Radhakrishnan

Kaha chale hum. Ank II

Sochta rahta hu mae

Ho jata bheed mae akela

Sanghi saathi gurrate

Kaha ho tum bhai

Jeena chahta apni hi dhun mae

Kya hai isme koyi burai

Bol leta kai bhashaye

Log poochte kon ho tum

Mai bolta na mai uttar ka

Na dakshin ka na poorav ka

Na pashchim ka

Mai tho hu bhai Hindusthani

Samajh na saka kyoo vivad ho

Bhsha or prant ka

Are bhasha to bus dwaar khole

Mujhe hai pyaar har bhasha se

Bhasha mai hai sondhi mitti ki

Khusbu jise ham bolte dharti ma

Par...

Barood ke dhamako ne

Kiya dharti ka haal bura

Khoon bahe har kone kone

Dharti hui hai lalam lal

Sondhi khushbu doob gaye

Insane ke bathe khoon mae

Kiya chahe atankvad ne

Ya encounter ne

Baha khun ahkir insaan ka

Insaniyat mar rahi

Aakhri saans gin rahi

Bacha sako to bachalo bhai

Kya kya kahu kab thak kahu

Ab hojata hu chup

Samaj sako to samajh lo bhai

Ab ham ko karna hai kuch

K.V. Radhakrishnan

Mai soch ta hu

Kyoo nahi smajh te matlab log

Tab smajh mae aya kisi ka bhi

Matlab samajhna ho tho

Uska vipreet hona zaroori hai

Ab anyay samajhna ho to

Nyay hona zaruri hai

Par nyay hai kaha

Jo samjhe anayay ko?

Hai Ram..!!

Hai Ram ki tho chita jala di

Chae dashak pahele

Ab jamana hai ghotale ka

Edhar ghotala udhar ghotala

Ghotala hai bhai ghotala

Edhar don udhar don

Sab taraf don hi don

Par tum kon?

Dekh rahe hum ab thak chappan

Encounter ka hai jamana

Under invoice kar aah raha hai maal

VAT laga laga extra kamai karlo

VAT ki topi laga ghoom rahi hai janta janardhan

Stree purush ka sanbandh

Bandha hai sirf vasna ki doorise

Pati ka figure or chalan kuch bhi chalega

Salary chae figure honi chahiye

Fair and lovely lep lagao kundali badlo

Shyamal varni tum to gai

Gori ka hai jamana

Doctorate dhadale say nikle Publish or perish

UGC ka hai farman

Internet jindabad

Edhar kat udhar kat edhar chipka udhar chipka

Hogaya publication tayyar

Wah re professor saab

Science gaya bhad mae

Upmanship ka hai jamana

Kya kya kahu kab thak kahu

Ab hojata hu chup

Samaj sako to samajh lo bhai

Ab ham ko karna hai kuch

K.V. Radhakrishnan

I was riding my scooter

on the roads of my city

I saw a family on a scooter

a child in front another sandwiched

between his mother and a carom board

I was touched by what I saw

a twang of joy in my heart

There will be joy in their home

when they play on the carom board

Small small joys are what make life

all you have to do is look around

Lots of us wait for the big one

Life slips by joyless waiting

The big one never arrives

Joy is everywhere

it is for you to pick it up

Enrich your life with these

Little ones

For me joyful laughter

of a little one is worth

all the gold in Fort Knox

K.V.Radhakrishnan