Category Archives: Poetry

The poonal poem

Ode to the threads which straddle my left shoulder

Three threads for the Elephant king riding his mouse,

Six for the protector of the universe on his giant snake.

Nine for mortal men doomed to die,

None for the kshatriya kings on their golden thrones.

In the land of TamBram, where the kudumis lie.

Three threads for celibacy, nine threads for family,

One day to hold them all, and in the temple, don them.

In the land of TamBram, where the kudumis lie.


Brahmins wear the sacred thread, which is called the poonal. When unmarried, they wear 3 threads, after marrying it becomes six, and finally, depending on the sub-sect they belong to, they wear nine either when they become fathers or when their own father passes away.

The elephant king refers to Ganesh, who is a brahmachari, i.e, he is unmarried.His vehicle is a mouse.

Vishnu is the protector of the universe who resides on a giant snake with his wife Lakshmi, and he doesn’t have kids. Hence the six threads.

On the day of Avani-Avittam, Tamil brahmins perform a ceremony to cast off their old thread and don a new one.

Kudumi is the Tamil word which refers to the bun Brahmins in the olden days used to tie their hair in.

TamBram- Tamil Brahmin

Education was wasted on those who haven’t seen the original:

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.


Ode to Bessi

This is my 1st and best attempt at poetry.I still haven’t got tired of reading it and I don’t think I will be anytime soon.For those of you who aren’t familiar with Bessi, its a beach in Besant nagar, chennai, officially Elliot’s beach, fondly called “Bessi” by the locals.And yes, I wrote it during one of my homesick spells and have posted it in quite a few communities on Orkut and forced all my friends to read it whether they liked it or not [:D].Anyway, before I start rambling,(oops! I think I already have :D) here it is…


All Elliot’s a stage…
The Vettis and Bandhas mere players
They all have hangouts which they call their own
In the beach consisting seven stretches

First comes the legendary broken bridge,
Unknown to the naive and innocent.
Only those brave at heart or crude as cavemen
Enter this realm of illicit ecstasy

Forward to the forbidden strips
If you stray here, go with finger on lips
Not a place for a man with a car
Oorur and Olcott, forever at war

After this comes no man’s land,
Walk not here with slippers in hand.
Strewn with dirt and glass and spike,
Territory of cows and rabid alike.

Now to the area favoured by all;
Gym, cafes, and our own short wall.
This is the place where figures be
Dressed in their Sunday best for the jobless to see.

Close is the stretch with cleaner sand
Where the young play, old walk hand in hand
Shoreward here couples show off their youth,
Not caring at all that it seems uncouth.

Moving on you shall see a half buried road
Serves its purpose as a cricketer’s abode
Right in the midst is the monument of piss
The place where you get a fifty rupee kiss.

Last is the place where food’s aplenty
Lots of MNCs and our own kaiyanthi
All working hard to keep you full
This place has its very own pull

Thus ends this eventful besantful history
All play and no work, naturally no dull boys
Holding memories of friends, adventure and mid afternoon swims
Life has moved us on, sans bessi, sans Cozee, sans everything

Anirudh Ramachandran

%d bloggers like this: