Today when I tried writing a so called poetry in 'tamizh', just realised the power of the beauty. At first place, mixed emotions crawling super fast all over, exciting every cell of the new tamizh poet to be. Soon when I started to pen down, not only did emotions poured but also the nervousness and the privilege to be writing about the beautiful bold she. That instant did I not fail to realise how funny am I going to sculpt her into words in initial few poems of mine. But, don't you think? That is what a real poem is. What you write is a poem. Also, realising the power of the 'mother language' this very moment. For whomever, whatever language one speak, it's not only a language but an emotion. Hereby, bowing head to all kinds of people, culture and the language.
Pootapatta manadhil yedhuvum nulaivadhillai. Thirakapatta manadhil edhuvum nilaipadhillai Manadhai aaraya mudiyavillai Palarai purindhukolla virupamillai. *Contextual meaning* Nothing enters into a locked heart Nothing remains in an open heart It is not possible to explore one It is hard to explore more people.