Jyothy Sreedhar

The Blue

The midnight sea reflects the bluish tint.

The bygone months try to stretch to the shore.

My vision rolls back to the start of the year.

Both hug at some point and make the past alive.

The ebbs fight with each other.

Some get to front, some step back,

some fight to a standstill.

The bluish ray falls on them

and adds colour to a gray picture.

I am the witness, I am the one… the only one.


A voice comes in.

A dog on the shore barks at the half-hidden moon.

I remembered how I had won the times passed

securing my secret naughtiness.

While my life did hide half its beauty,

my happiness stayed at the other half

and it bloomed in my bluish smile.

Some saw the hidden part, and some the eclipse,

while I was that moon in full, not just lunar.

And I stayed naughtily there, behind the dark.


The restless clouds blacken itself

and give the sky a darker tone.

But I enjoy the black that it shows

when the tint is bluish… in patches.

The faded blue of life is a serene space

that glows in the dark count of ages.

And the vision gets picturesque.

I can just look at it for eons.

I can spend my whole life on it.


I want to live more… I want to love my breaths.

I can then pamper some lives-

human and non-human- and give them life.

They will love me and I will get rich.

My garden will then bloom with fragrance.

I can see colours, love and fluttering butterflies

more, more and more.

I then will have more smiles on my dry lips.

I want to live more for them.


I can see their smiles in the waves

that draw picture with water drops.

It says that I am blessed enough to love others

more than getting their love.

Loving the love that I have for others

gives its life to my heart.

And it beats with due care.


At the vague zenith of the sharp cuts

my eyes capture a boat sailing far.

The image puts a shadow

over the limits of the sky.

What should be gone should be gone.

Let it not stay more.

Let it pass… even the zenith of memories.

But the scene of its sailing away too

is a plus to the picture’s beauty.

Without it, the scene would be incomplete.

For that, let it be there, with the oars leading it far.


Somewhere between, the whales jump

And dive into another wave.

I guess they are wild whales, not tamed dolphins

But the whole scene is vivid with them.

The whales are blue, but they are not blue whales.

They get the blue from the ray that falls in.

Everything gets their colours, even the night itself.

A divine painting… like in an old century drama.

Or in a heavenly painting of Raphael.


My life is beautiful, with that touch of God.

When it is dark, God gives me blue- the beauty.

I realise that I yielded more than what I have yearned for…

The count can be seen matching the wave number.

I have my own big worlds in this small earth.

I am happy, my Life…

And get happier with each wave that you give me.

Let the sea be rich with the waves that touch me

and let the blue spread in the whole frame

making it more calm and divine.


My Life, will you not give me more love,

more smiles and more blues,

so that I can sit there on the shore

and see how beautiful you are…