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 child’s 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.