Cradle of the Perennial Birds

An ancient cot, a humble veshti, a perennial tree, a yellow bird and a cuckoo.This book is their quiet cradle and, if you let it, yours.These poems composed over past three decades move between village dawns and city neon,between gurukulam corridors and glowing screens.They speak in a clean, listening voice part Tamil root, part present-tense breath.Here, insight is not preached; it is noticed in a childs question, a cracked wall, a sudden birdsong.If you have ever paused at such small flashing passes,you will find this cradle already waiting, gently open.