Archive for the ‘My Works’ Category

An article about ” The  Lion of the Desert ” Umar Al Mukthar (Sidi Umar) ,The great Libian patriot who fought for nearly 20 years against Italy’s military colonisation of Libya, and was ultimately captured in 1931 and hung by Mussolini’s fascist forces.

Click Here to download or read the article.

An article about O.N.V Kurup .

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My Frontline article on ONV

Link: http://www.frontline.in/fl2722/stories/20101105272209100.htm

Article that came in Malayalam News Sunday Plus on 26th September 2010.

Download the file here

New Delhi, 13 September 2008, 6.21 pm

The first newsflash must have been

Beamed about 6.40 pm

As my brother called me up from Kerala

To see all was well with me and mine.

Bombs, he said, had gone off

At Gaffar Market Karol Bagh,

Central Park Connaught Place,

Barakhamba Road, M Block Market GK I.

At first count the figures were

20 injured

Soon it rose to 30-40

Within a few minutes

3 dead

Then

5 dead

7 dead

10 dead

I switched off the TV.

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https://www.yousendit.com/download/VGljdFdVdkdubVhIRGc9PQ

http://www.4shared.com/file/180457647/2058762c/dr_aj_thomas_kerala_kavitha_ar.html

This is just a thumbnail sketch. An article on such a vast subject, done with little research, basing mainly on my memory, and impressionistic by nature….Readers, please forgive my audacity. I hope this anticipatory bail plea finds favour with you all….It was published in Kerala Kavitha 2007.

I pasted above the link to 4shared.com, too. Please download the PDF file to get the Malayalam article.

My mother’s leathery face and

Caved in lips, sans teeth or denture

The broken arm in plaster rubbing

The side of the left breast once fed me

But now turned septic. Her three months

In the hospital had got her life back

To be snatched away anytime;

Death was on the prowl we knew.

She who was so full of life and hope

Suddenly turned to me one day and said:

‘Why should I live on? My time is gone.

Let me go now. Don’t worry about me.’

There was a blank listlessness about her

Eyes and lips.

In her last stint in the hospital

When she went in and out of

Cubicles of consciousness

Her roving eyes could not see

The reassurance her son sought

To bring, the security of wellbeing—

Only blankness, blankness.

The wind is the same

As ever, over the centuries

Blowing in stiff, straight draughts

Keeping the tree-leaves akimbo

And the black-tipped clouds in great, straight streams

The sky looks clean-washed and dipped in indigo

Hung out to dry

The sunshine seems to shimmer more

As if it has a life all its own

The rural spirit

Superimposed with

The aspirations of a fast-globalising world . . .

Young women flash away on Kinetic Hondas

Older women on mopeds slug away

With funny caps on their heads!