The Familier Stranger

Death,

You pass me many times in my life.
In the quiet fading of my grandmas and grandpas,
in mamas and chithappas whose presence once filled our homes,
in the neighbour who waved every morning,
in distant relatives whose names I almost forgot.

You arrive through my friend’s father,
a friend’s mother,
my teacher who shaped our minds,
a preacher who told stories of life.
Through soldiers, activists, martyrs—
lives spent like bright flames.
Through criminals and drug addicts,
lost souls and quiet casualties, 

The innocents who trapped in middle of the war, 

where you chase them with a agony starvation and poverty.

Through the pet that waited for me at the gate,
and the street lives we walked past each day.

Even the parents of our teenage crush
whose name we never learned.

And my friend who shared our birthdays with.

Each time you appear,
I learn.
I bend, but do not break.
I gather small stones of strength
and build ourselves again.
Slowly I become the one
who can console others,
who can say,
“I have stood in this shadow before.”

Yet when you stand before me once more,
even for a heartbeat,
you may stop me.
You may bring back the ache,
the questions,
the vast uncertainties.

But you also make us older in spirit,
gentler in our living,
clearer in our choices.
You remind us what truly matters,
what must be held close,
and what can be let go.

You are a strange, astonishing phenomenon—
a teacher I never wanted,
yet one who shapes us
into who we must be.

While waiting outside thinking about priorities 

Sikaran 

24th November 25

He loved even more...

He knew from the start

This wasn’t his to keep:

Not her smile,

Not her time,

Not even her shadow.

She would walk her path,

And he would walk his.

Never together,

Never 'us' .

And yet he loved.

He cherished.

He carried her memories like a secret treasure—

Even the ones that hurt.

Because love is not about possession;

It is about presence.

The presence was never easy,

And the love was never exposed.

Love is about seeing someone’s light

And letting it warm you.

Even the smallest things of her

Never failed to warm him.

The purest love doesn’t always end in forever.

Sometimes it ends in silence—

But not before the truth is finally spoken:

A fragile, sacred vow that cannot be broken.

He laid his naked heart upon the line

And watched her take the space she had to find.

The ending was the same—

A quiet knowing in his soul,

But the sharing made his fractured spirit whole.

He let her go—

And in the letting, loved her more.

Sikaran 

On the way back, in the air,

When he read a random story.

31·10·25

Me and my memories

Energy, enthusiasm, and love —

all were loud once.

The same footpath I walk today

has felt my steps before.

Back then, my skin tingled

from the chill — and from safety.

Now the tingle lives deeper,

in my heart and soul.

It wasn’t the cold that stirred me —

it was the memories.

The white wall,

the pink lotus,

the green lake,

even the brown-uniformed police —

Nothing have changed.

Now everything feels cleaner, calmer, kinder.

Twenty years have passed,

yet the feeling keeps evolving,

like a song that never quite explains itself.

Then — the future was unknown.

Now — the future makes no sense.

And in between, there’s me —

with my memories- known to me only, 

Like a flash of light

Strikes through the darkness .

 Sikaran 

19. 10 2025

Kandy

En route to a little crush

From the autumn leaves filled streets,

dreams bloom through the mist.
A passport in my hand, a heartbeat within —
“I’m going home again.”

Beyond the airplane’s window,
clouds drift like white silk waves.
Somewhere beneath the sun’s far light,
my homeland breathes in my memory.

Like the winding curves of the A9 road,
my thoughts return and twine —
Kandy’s hills in gentle green,
old friends’ laughter echoing unseen.
And among them, glimpse of quiet crushes 
still blooms in secret inside me.

As Jaffna draws near,
a shadow of fear stirs softly —
How will 'they' react?
Will my friends still remember me?
Will they make space for who I’ve become?  

Will they accept my short invitations? 

Will it cloudy and gloomy? 

Can I do something useful here,
something that matters at last?

Yet as the plane begins to land,
a calm rises from within —
Whatever awaits,
this is my soil, my pulse, my kin.

Leaving behind the foreign chill,
I feel the homeland’s heat ignite —
but that warmth,
is love in its truest light.

Like every other crushes, I am now 

Enroute to the little crush. 

சிகரன், 

A secret in darkness

Some dreams still live in secrecy,

Unspoken, yet they breathe;

Like shadows cast by candlelight,

They linger, never leave.

They bloom within a quiet heart,

Where no one else can see,

A gentle fire that hides its flame,

Yet burns eternally.

Through passing years they quietly move,

Unchanged by time or space,

A silent thread that binds the souls,

No distance can erase.

A treasure box, a photo kept,

A birthday card, a tree in a pot,

These marks of love live in secret,

Known only to those who care a lot.

Though voices fade and moments end,

Their presence will remain,

For hidden love is never lost—

It shines beyond the pain. 

Even in the darkest days,

Its light never truly ends

Will the darkest days ever end? 

Sikaran 

17 Sep 25

Friend of Morning Light

Each dawn awakens with your care,

Before the world stirs, you’re already there.

A teacher, a mother, a giver of time,

Your heart writes blessings in gentle rhyme.

Amid the rush of early hours,

You tend your home, you plant love’s flowers.

Yet never forget, through all you do,

To send a kind thought, a message true.

You see the world with a poet’s eyes,

Raindrops glisten, spider webs rise.

Where others pass, you pause to see,

The quiet art of life’s mystery.

Curious, tender, your spirit flows,

Kindness in everything you compose.

You gather the small, the fleeting, the rare,

And weave them in words as treasures to share.

You reach out gently, your heart so wide,

Entrusting loved ones with care and pride.

That extra thought, that tender believe,

Reveals the love you quietly weave.

Dear friend, your giving knows no end,

But even the strongest hearts must mend.

So keep a little love for you and your body

A gentle rest, early sleeps, cuddles with teddy.

For you are a blessing, rare and true,

A gift this life has given anew.

And with each thought, each word you send,

I thank the heavens for such a friend.

☘️🌸☘️🌸☘️🌸☘️🌸

Inspired by life of a human being. 

சிகரன் 

24.08.25

A Friendly Conversation II

Tree:

Hello,  Madam bird with bright future ,

You bring such a joy, a painless torcher. 

Why do you sing near one like me—

An unlucky , lonely, silent tree?

Bird:

Oh Mr. Tree so tall, so kind, so still,

Your calmness makes my heart refill.

You never rush, you never shout,

You help the heavy worries out.

Tree:

But I have known the ache of years,

My roots are soaked in silent tears.

I once reached out with hope and flame,

But every dream just died the same.

The storms of fate have stripped my leaves away,

And all who came… they didn’t stay.

I stood through fire, frost, and rain—

Yet nothing bloomed, just more of pain.

Now songs feel far, and joy feels dim—

What use is life when branches thin?

Bird:

But still you listen with your heart,

So calm, so gentle from the start.

You never judge how one may seem,

Or shatter someone's quiet dream.

Tree:

Most walk on by, they do not see,

The quiet  unblessed soul inside of me.

They wear their masks, they never stay—

But you have come and lit every day.

Bird:

Most people wear a made-up face,

But you create a softer place.

A space where I can just be real,

And speak the things I truly feel.

Tree:

Dear madam bird, your words are kind,

They stir what's buried deep inside.

But I am tired, I’ve tried, I’ve failed—

Each branch once brave is now impaled.

You have your sky, your wings, your spring—

While I remain… a lifeless thing.

Bird:

But standing still with pain and grace

Takes more than flying place to place.

You hold the sky, you shade the land,

You give, though few might understand.

You’re rare, so full of silent grace,

A soul that time cannot replace.

Tree:

You think me rare, you call me true?

Yet all I am is scar and blue.

You shine, you sing, you make hearts rise—

I’ve only watched the fading skies.

Bird:

Oh no, dear tree, it's clear to see:

You hold the world with quiet dignity.

You never judge by look or name,

You love us gently, all the same.

Tree:

Perhaps we’re both a little rare—

Mad, crazy, stupid we are.

Though I have lost what once was mine,

You gift me light through song and time. 

Thank you crazy little bird

When walking alone  through the woods in Cornwall in a early morning 

சிகரன் 

21.07.25

 

A friendly conversation

Then she said,

"You are my friend,

You live the values I always dreamed—

So kind, so real, so quietly true,

A mirror of the best of me in view." 

"You are my world, so pure, so bright,

A place where all my hopes take flight.

So honest, innocent, softly you stand,

A gentle soul in a restless land." 

"You are my universe, vast, untold,

A galaxy I’ve yet to hold.

Where stars are born from gentle light,

And endless days blend into night." 

"You fulfill my dreams, both wild and shy,

You lift me up, you help me try.

You help me live, just by your way,

A quiet guide through night and day." 

She continued.. 

"I see you in the books I read ,

With love and care you’ll always show.

And through the story , lonely, suffer and calm or wild,

I trace the story of you as a child—

The life you've lived, the truth you chose,

The strength in you that softly grows." 

Then I, figured , had this to say:

“Wait—what did I do to make your day?”

She laughed, and grinned, and texed me saying—

“You silly thing… just be here and text me back!”

 

சிகரன் 

When not knowing who am I... .

sometime in June 25. 

வெள்ளை உதிரம்

 மண், மதம் மனிதாபிமானம் 

மரணம் என்று 

ஆண்டாண்டு காலமாய் 

கத்தி  கதறியது எல்லாம் 

உங்களுக்கு என்றும் 

கேட்டதே இல்லை.

எமது வலிகள் , 

விழுமியங்கள், 

கட்டமைப்புகள்

நிராகரிக்கப்பட்டு

நிர்க்கதியான 

போதெல்லாம் 

நீங்கள் வசதியின் கடலில்

மூழ்கி இருந்தீர்கள்.

அடைவழிகளில், அலுவலகங்களில், பள்ளிகளில்,

விளைநிலங்களில் 

விளையாட்டுத்திடல்களில்

நாங்கள் வடித்த உதிரங்கள்

அப்போதும் இப்போதும் உங்களைப் போலவே சிவப்பாகத்தான் இருந்தது காலப்போக்கில அது அமைதியின் போர்வையில்

அருகதை ஆனது.. 

ஆனால் இப்போது

ஓர் முள் உங்கள் பாதத்தை

கிழித்த போது,

நீங்கள் என் உதிரத்தை காண்பதாக சொல்கிறீர்கள் .

எப்போது உங்கள் வெள்ளை உதிரம் மானுடமானது? 

எப்போது எமது கிறுக்கல்கள் தலைப்புகள்,வரலாறுகள் 

எல்லாம் உங்கள் வரலாறகியது? 

சிகரன் 

23.05. 25

Reflecting up on false claims in South Africa 

Punishment

A word we use

To point fingers,

Draw lines,

Say you’re wrong

And I’m right.

To separate the ones who broke the rules…

From the ones who made them.

But here’s the thing—

Why take the hit

When you didn’t swing?

Why wear chains

When your hands are clean?

Somewhere along the way,

We learned to punish each other

Instead of understand.

We gave out pain like it was justice.

We took pain,

Thinking it meant peace. 

Ohh dear, 

Who gave me the right to punish you?

You don’t have to assume

That every silence,

Every no-reply,

Every short answer

Is punishment.

It’s (may) not  your fault.

It’s just—

Sometimes,

It’s hard for me to reach across

This distance in my chest.

Hard to connect

When I’m lost too.

But listen—

Friends don’t punish.

Real love doesn’t come with a penalty box.

You don’t have to suffer

To be seen.

You don’t have to bleed

To be believed.

Dear self…

Stop accepting punishments

You didn’t earn.

Stop saying sorry

For simply being

you.

You are not a mistake

Needing correction.

You are not a problem

Needing pain.

So lift your head.

Let go of guilt.

You don’t owe suffering

To prove your truth.

Because there’s no punishment

For being

Whole.

சிகரன் 

05 05 25

Conifer

 It wasn’t so long ago I came,

To find you waiting—

Still and strange,

A little wild,

With silence in your frame.

You were young,

But already bowed—

Your arms hung low,

Like they had held

Too many moments, somehow.

No one had tended your reaching limbs,

Your green fingers brushed the ground,

Your droppings lay like scattered thoughts—

Unnoticed, unclaimed, unsound.

I touched you, gentle,

Trimmed with care,

Like soothing a child’s troubled hair.

Soft, slow, a quiet grace,

In your stillness, I found a place.

Through your boughs, the horizon grew—

A sun that sank in golden fire,

Jets sketching lines across the blue,

Stars that danced on a silver wire.

From my bed, a perfect view,

Measured, still, and always new.

Then I heard the truth of you—

A leftover from joy once known,

A tip from a tree at Christmas grown,

Saved from waste,

A memory sown.

A couple cared, built walls to keep,

You rooted near their home so deep.

He left, and she remained—

A lonely woman, soft with pain.

She lived where I now rest my head,

And through her, you were gently fed.

Now here we are,

Together grown—

A quiet pair,

Rooted and known.

I’ve seen the pigeons in your arms,

Squirrels leap through leafy charms,

Spiders spin their silver thread

Between your limbs, where once you bled.

In spring, your scent would sweetly rise,

A song that lured the bees to fly.

In summer, shade for creeping ants,

For rats, and all the small that dance.

You gave with silence, deep and true—

No boast, just kindness flowing through.

In autumn, when the leaves gave way,

You stayed green—refused decay.

A lesson there, you gave to me:

To hold on,

When others flee.

And winter came with all its chill,

But still you stood, so bright, so still.

Birds found warmth within your grace,

Parrots whispered, tits gave chase—

They swung like bells upon your tips,

The cold wind kissing feathered lips.

You are always beautiful—

Always breath,

Memory,

And more.

Not just a tree

Outside my door—

But living story,

Root and core.

You are home.

A wish for time

I wish I had more time with me,

To mend my soul, to set it free.
A quiet space, a gentle sea,
Where I could find the depth of me.

I wish for time with friends so dear,
Where laughter echoes loud and clear.
A time that shapes the trends we chase,
With memories time cannot erase.

I wish for peace amidst the fight,
A guiding star, a hopeful light.
Where young minds dream beyond the fray,
And war’s dark clouds are swept away.

I wish for change, both strong and true,
A shift in hearts, a broader view.
Where kindness forms a sacred chain,
And human worth is not in vain.

I wish for love, deep and pure,
A bond that makes our lives secure.
A touch, a word, a hand to hold,
More precious far than gems or gold.

I wish for time to speak my heart,
To hear the tales I’ve played a part.
To sit with self and softly say,
“You’ve come so far—embrace today.”

I wish for time to start anew,
To learn from trials, to see what’s true.
A reset key, a page unturned,
Where life’s story become lessons learned.

I wish to regain the time I lost,
To find my path, no matter the cost.
To ask myself what life should be,
And where my soul finds peace in me.

I wish I had the time to send,
My love and hopes to every friend.
To wish them strength, to see them shine,
And let their dreams align with mine.

சிகரன் 

Cycle of shadows

 Power that comes in a madman's hand,

Grabs the poorest people's land.

History returns, a cycle unkind,

Drowning voices, breaking the mind.

Missiles and jetss become priority,

Leaving people's lives in pity.

Devils are plotting secret revenge,

Yet another war in grinch.

Shadows stretch where hope once shone,

The cries of justice fade to stone.

Yet whispers rise in broken streets,

A spark remains where courage meets.

The cannons will roar, the sirens will wail,

History will repeat its sorrowful tale.

Children whisper through the night,

Hiding souls from the flames' cruel bite.

You have no choice but to live in this world,

Put your dreams and hopes on hold.

Charming friends and neighbors told,

“You are crazy—still not old.”

The planet aligns in a silent parade,

A cosmic whisper, a fate long laid.

The stars blink twice, then dim in shame,

Giving a sign—the war starts again.

Footsteps echo on streets once bright,

Shadows dance in the absence of light.

What was once a dream now fades,

Lost in the march of war’s cruel blades.

But somewhere beneath the smoking sky,

A heart still beats, refusing to die.

For even in chaos, hope can remain,

A spark of peace in a world of pain.

The dark grows deep behind the mass

Shadows that spread without ask 

The day will come and shadow will go

It will come back again that cruel shadow. 

Sikaran 

01.03 25

A World of Worth

 When money rules, power grows,

And people’s worth—nobody knows.
Success is weighed in wealth and land,
Not in a helping, giving hand.
Justice bends to those who pay,
While truth and fairness fade away.
The rich rise high, the poor fall deep,
Yet human souls are not so cheap.

Diversity shapes the world we see,

Yet some now taste minority.
The tables turn, the roles reverse,
A lesson taught, though learned in curse.
To feel unseen, to stand alone,
To fight for rights once thought as known.

Half my life, I’ve understood,
A quarter learning, as I should.
A quarter spent to stand and fight,
Still, I hope for future’s light.
A world where kindness leads the way,
Where hearts are heard, not brushed away.

Where respect and value shine,
Not just profit’s grand design.
Millions’ rights ignored each day,
While giants live their way.

I dream a world where all are free,
Where judgment fades to empathy.
If only hearts could truly know,
What it means in others' shoes to go.
If power bowed to love instead,
And justice stood for all who bled.

சிகரன் 

23 02 25

அன்பு

 அது

அன்பாக இருந்தால்

அதுவே நமக்காகட்டும்

ஆகுமா 

அது? 

சிகரன் 

2003 

வரலாறு

 எமது நிழல்கள் கூட

வரலாறாக

நீயும் நானும் 

ஒருவருக்கு ஒருவர்

நிழலாக வேண்டும். 

சிகரன் 

2003

தூக்கம்

முடியாத

கனவுகளை 

கலைத்து விட

நீயும் நானும் 

இன்னும் 

தூக்கத்தில்....!

சிகரன் 

2005

The rain cold and stromy day

You wake up before the dawn for me,

Erase all the feelings I shouldn’t see.
A tantrum you shape in the name of nature,
But my heart can’t bear what it’s made of.

Madness swirls in all we say,
Selfish blinkers light the way.
“Sorry”—a word not good enough,
Can’t hide the selfish, full and rough.

The weight of words, the cost we bear,
A fragile thread, a love unfair.
Yet in the cracks, the sun may shine,
A bond to heal, a truth divine.

How much longer must I pretend?
This path of thorns can never mend.
Let the silence fall, let us be free,
From the chaos that love turned out to be

How much longer must we defend?
This fragile bond we try to mend.
Let the silence heal, let us agree,
To cherish the friendship that's meant to be. 

When try to challenge a day with rain cold and strom with my hope for sunshine and brightness.... 

Expectation management 😜 

Sikaran

The choice you make!

 Life unfolds as a tale of two streams,

A delicate balance of hopes and dreams.

In life, two categories arise,

One where you lack, yet joy never dies.

The other, where riches abound in others view,

Yet emptiness lingers, clouding what's true in you.

Friendship, too, walks on a divided lane,

One gives all, but the return is pain.

The other, a feast of treasures you claim,

Yet nothing within ever feels the same.

Love, a story of dual refrain,

One loves deeply, despite the pain.

The other wounds in love's tender name,

A bittersweet dance of sorrow and blame.

And missing—a longing that cuts through bone,

One born of solitude, truly alone.

The other, a shadow that won’t depart,

Loneliness lurking inside your heart.

Fate whispers softly, offers you two,

One belief in what you had, the other hope for what’s new.

Which will you choose? What path feels true?

For every decision shapes your way,

In the endless dance of night and day.

So tread with courage, where choices divide,

Let wisdom and heart be your guide.

For life is a journey, both harsh and kind,

Its beauty revealed in the paths we find.

For a decision time.. 

Sikaran