Uncivilized?

Before the cow. Before the lion. Before the iron.
At the first hazy image of an Indian Rhino. Before the sum
Taught us trade with the foreign lands;
Export-import. The Largest settlement.
Praisable architecture, art forms
An enigma, along the mighty Indus.
Boustrophedon. Manufactured seals of
Swastika symbol and Trimurti- Creator, Sustainer, destroyer.
Peepal worshipped, stamped the bull,
And Temple-less Shiva-Shakti obeyed.
Lingam and Yoni were sacred and prayed.
From Sindh it stretched, from Punjab and Maharashtra;
Relive what is buried and past.
Mohenjodaro, Harappa, Lothal Port and Ghaggar
Marks the land of unsung men.
Who gifted us cotton, the Mother Goddess,
Shell strips, Pashupati Mahadev,
Burial of a horse intact.
Ten prosperous centuries of mankind
Declined by Indra’s rage, of which
Rigveda speaks as hariyumpia.

The Unknown.

Come and sing..
Ye shall sing the song.
Sing the song and merry-making along.
The abrupt tyrannies of the world.
The fake hypocrisies of the nations.
We gotta sing it all
We gotta sing it loud!

Someone have to push you under the light.
Under the clear light, under the dreary bed.
Under the water, to make you gulp…
And then to make you churn
And produce solid out of water.
We gotta sing it all
We gotta sing it loud..
We gotta enjoy the ecstasy out of it.


View from the picture.
View through the art
Do not search within.
You will find the hollow rise..
The compromise. Of an aspiration
followed by inspiration,
then the condemnation and the damnation.
Within this holy nation.
What will you search?
What will you find..?


What we need is always different from
What we want. How will you view life then.


A word, followed by its opposite word.
Taking the conversation (philosophy of life)
To the level above commonly reach.
Then why are we forming heap of words.
We are the witnesses to the most degraded age of mankind.
“All is wrong, only I am right!”


They say, the struggle for power goes on!
The struggle for power goes on!
And you may contribute a verse….

Why disappointed, why so depressed.
We are allowed to sing like an impotent.
So enjoy every bit of this helplessness.
Where will thou find such a freedom
As you may knock the imperial palace
And disturb the creator.
But something is present…?
Something is ruling everything.
The greatest tragedy is….it is only something.
So, live life to the fullest in your lover’s arms…
And leave the future behind, hanging on your chairs arm…
Go, and you gotta sing the song…
You gotta sing it loud..
You gotta sing in harmony
With your other friends or enemies
Standing in a long row along…

Naive

Please be still
Please be a part of my Poison.
I want you numb
Your skin as cold as ice.
Because I'm stoic.
Some might call me a sadomasochist
But, in reality, I am your play-thing.
Be my culprit.
Show me my blood,
I cannot feel the pain
As you gave me love!!!
Please be still
Please be a part of my poison.

Trust me. I trust you.
Kill me, I want to see my blood
Is it red?
Red is the colour of rose as well.
Am I formed from rose?
Or is it you that filled me with red.

Please be still.
Please be a part of my poison.
I want you numb.

Show me my blood.
I want to smell it.
Does it smell of purple violets?
Or the lilies, we plucked together.
Where will I found a naïve as you.

Come to me I shall have you full.
Where dost thou can go.
You are my play thing.
Be still. I SAID BE STILL.
I WANT YOU COLD.
BE MY POISON.
I WANT YOU NUMB.

Shower me your lust.
Make me feel I am desirable.
May be, something can stuck me too!!!

Where are you going?
Leaving me incomplete.
Please don’t do this to me.
Enough of sadism I have suffered.
YOU come to me.
I don’t want you numb!
I don’t want you cold.

Suck the red within me
And give me exquisite pleasure.

An unsung tale…..true meaning of Poetry.

I



“John Keating: Words and ideas can change the world. We don't read and write Poetry because it is cute? But because we are the members of the Human Race, and the Human Race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But Poetry- beauty, romance, love, Passion. These are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman:

" O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities fill'd with the foolish;.......
What good amid these, O me, O life? "




answers that you are here. That life exists and identity. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.

What would your verse be?”

‘Dead Poets Society’ (1989).


A section from the original script which I took from the movie ‘Dead poets Society’, which vastly speaks about Poetry in context of Walt Whitman. Why did I choose the section from the script of a movie? I read somewhere, some days ago, movies are being criticized very boldly as they are challenging the identity of other art movements like music, drawing, dance, writing etc. I am not against such accusations nor am I supporting them. Escaping such polemics, I want to enlighten you with the fact that movies are a melodious blend of image, motion, music, verses and many similar artistic accessories which a director includes to make his point. Movies are very close to theaters. What promotes the fact of their sky-breaking height is it covers vast majority of audiences. This above mentioned scene portrays the beauty, art and meaning of Poetry in the first reading. But it has a lot more to tell than this. The above section of the script is giving us motivation (later this section is picked up as a part of Poetry’s teachings) to search for a meaning of life, to escape death. Other than material realities there are other realities as well which are not filled with cheating, jealously, hatred and revenge but are filled with pure ecstasy, that even the agony and the tragedy may sound as appealing as a verse written on a Spring. The world of life in life’s context.



To quote from Thomas Gray from ‘Elegy Written in a Country’s Churchyard’:

” The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:-
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.”



answers that we all are predestined to death; the ultimate end. But at the same time questions it and promotes us to rise out of it…..



“Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.”



In the movie too this theme is portrayed through “Carpe diem!” which means “Seize the Day!”. Make your every ordinary day count as extraordinary. Do something which will promote you to be called as a human of worth existence even if you have to pay your life for it, but in the end you can count yourself worth living. John Donne also gave a spirit to us to overcome such “ultimate end” in ‘Death Be Not Proud’ as,


“………………, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,”

“Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;”

“One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.”



What do all these provide us? A spirit. A spirit to survive. To survive against even the most dreadful enemy of human existence i.e. death. The Poem talks about the triumph of human emotions and optimism over the eternal fate of whole mankind.





II


What does Poetry consist of? The Poetry must possess some elements of revelations in it. Why am I saying this? Because this is what I want you to notice and understand. Before reading Poetry we must have our own reflection of Poetry. What do I mean from the word “revelation”? It is not just the dictionary meaning of the term as “uncovering the divine truth”, but I want to make you all realize how does Poetry works, how does it handles such revelations and how does it takes the “marrows from our lives”. The most common way of reading Poetry which is mostly prevalent in schools and colleges and institutions are not in correct fashion, the fashion they are meant to be read. We can read the poetry, analyze it with the poet’s historical, personal, social and political contexts, but this is not the thing which a poet asks from the reader. The thing which came to my notice in the movie ‘Dead poets Society’ is the Dead Poets Society itself. Some teenagers breaking the norms of social institution and standing, not in heraldry but to form there “own grounds” and stand determinedly on them; the way they read poetry… the way which “O Captain! My Captain!” teaches them to pronounce a “barbaric YAWP”, John Keating asking children to stand up on there benches to look at the class (a metaphor for world) in a different way, with different perspective; to see what you want to see not what others want you to see. In my first year of graduation I learned that Literature is a literary art which is meant to read aloud verbally to understand the tones, and the lifts and drops of it. What are we missing while reading a Poem? A Poet never likes his work to be just read and interpreted with certain philosophical theories or some one drawing graphs, and charts, and techniques for understanding poetry. They all are rubbish; a trash. The way in which the other person thinks cannot be the way I would think, there is always a difference in a person’s perception of things; which we term as our own natural “reception”.

Why does a poet write a poem? Because, a poet is urging us to understand those smallest things of life which we randomly overlook; which gets unnoticed. T S Eliot in his essay ‘Hamlet’ wrote that “work of art cannot be interpreted; there is nothing to interpret; we can only criticize it according to standards, in comparison to other works of art”, he further somewhere said that he wants us to read and feel his Poetry, not to be just interpreted and analyzed and then put aside. It is not only about T S Eliot almost every poet want the same approach from a reader, which is not getting fulfilled. Poet is urging us to grasp the juice of the poem, not the matter of which it is composed of. All the poetries of this world can be summed up in a single person’s life. The point which has not been spread commonly to the readers is how to read a poem, the manner in which it should be read, not only to stress upon its Meter, rhyme, Figures of Speech, but to get the feeling, the warmth, the bliss and the essence behind it.

Never read a poem in its original context, but try to relate it with your own life and personal experiences and this is what a poet wants us to do. He wants to reveal to us that we are humans, full of fertility, potency, passion, love, hatred, agony, that we all will decay one day and we all will be food for worms, birds and animals but still, we live and we exist, we have an identity of our own, not only as a human but also our own, which is not framed up constitutionally, but the identity which is worth noticing. Within the immense expanse of the universe we are worth noticing because we have life which is so damn beautiful. That we are full of life!

And We Will Go Within Eachother……..

amor platonicus- ‘Symposium’s


Where would have I found
so eternal peace as with you.
You flowered me from nothingness.
Now, that I go back to memories
when I miss you,
I re-read our old conversations
and smile.

The Hellish fire below my feet,
even the Granite melts and bones
realize their hollowness, and
blood boils to vapour drops.
Leaving staining essence
to this world, to smell
and to rot.

I want to refresh our old memories.
The eyes will get closed; light is shut.
How?
I am left to nothingness again.
To what extent this search will proceed.
I found myself stand nowhere,
and
at nights finds myself gazing
undemandingly at the Moon.
Your silky hairs; your siesta eyes
have a lot more to tell, then I could hear.
There is a smile, then there is a guise,
and then I am left gazing like a prey.
My search for eternal peace ends at you.

I want to transcend; transcend
of which Atwood spoke about.
Transcend will require me to
fight the horrorful other;
the delightful other;
the unknown other.

This unknown is formless.
How may I get to see him,
catch him, and fight him.
As I doubt, is this other,
a part somewhere inside me?
I searched and searched
and searched within again and
again and realized.
I am a drop within a sea.
Afraid of getting doomed forever in it.
Your sunshine must reach to me in depths
and furnish me with strength.
Give me your sight.
I have walked so far,
bless me your light.
Unless “human voices wake us, and we drown.”

And I may be left unsung, unnoticed;
pathless on this trodden, discarded path.

Where will I land?
Where will my voyage end?

My voyage will end at you, that’s certain.
And I will roll my sleeves up
and stand straight, and march forward
to enter the other and to
triumph over the other.
To conjoin with you.

A step after a step
After a step and our glory!

I would march forward
singing ‘A Song’ again and again
whenever I’ll be lost among
the trodden paths of this
humanly guised devilish space

Will I be left burning then also?
As passionately as I am now.
Or will this hellish burning will end,
in the end, and
cool down, and ice my scars.
Will you hold my hand and
kiss me to sunshine!
Will this dark other land
be brighten up then?
Will this impotent land
be fertile with our conjoin?
Will then we never be parted again?
From your eyes, to your lips,
To your smell, to your soul,
will want me with same intense,
as I to you now.

Am I Amoroso? Are you Histella?
No!
We are not
restricted, nor bounded
in any of the worldly illusions.


We have no name.
Only we have,
Us.

Give me your touch, and steal
my soul from me.
Give me your smell
and I would deflower it slowly
to preserve it only for myself, only myself.
Stare at me like this
and I’ll kiss thee to eternity.
Give me your lips
and we will leave this illusion.
We will leave this delusion.
Yes, my love you are right!
We will leave this world
And go within Eachother.

Have I Degraded? Or, Have I been Degraded?

Where are those days of trivial glories,
When I used to ask mom,
Mom! How is it? I created it?
It is my invention!
I proudly claim to my stupidity.
"Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?"
I ask from Nights and even from Days
The transmuted path, of that glorious bridge
Sketched earlier by Plotinus on that day
On which vainglorious cannot step.
And i worry, have i turned one of them?
The imbecility of my younger age
Have ripened and soaked by starved realities.
Have fled, and cowardly ran away!
Leaving behind some memories and me!
Leaving behind some memories and me!

A Song of....

I.
A song of union,
A song of commitment,
A song of triumph over endless eternity.
Praise! Praise! Holy Spirits!
Mighty wind will sing the praise.
Of our world-without-end wedlock.
From the heights of mountains
Heaven will shower the rain
The triumphant glory
Of our patience and pain.
The nature will sing its eloquent praise
To perform the ceremony of annunciation ablaze.


II.
Amoroso (A lover):
My soul! My beloved!
You are my light, and I am your secret admirer.
You bear the shape of Aphrodite.
Your radiance is what
I want to rub on my soul.

O my dear! My beloved Histella!
We have waited for long.
Yes, we have burned our flesh.
Our conjoin will now be blest.
It’s time for us to unite together
And make prophecies to get real.


III.
Amoroso (A lover):
You came from another world.
I wandered through loneliness.
You were so luminous.
I belonged to gloominess.
You raised me to “light”.
My life got enhanced, and bright.
Then you showed me anger,
And I feared the danger.
Well, let’s not dip into it now,
As time does not command us for.
The Edenic nature sings our praise.
Come, let’s dance upon its murmur.


IV.
Amoroso (A lover):
Through nights like this one
You entered into my heart.
The chamber was dark and empty
You ignited it with your “love charm”.
I struggled, I struggled! I fought!
My love!
The two demons with full detest and antipathy.
The strings were loose
I must have struck onto them
In my weakest hours.
If the string will now break,
The depth is where I will fall.
So, show me some sunshine
And liss me from this dread.
I ask for your heavenliness
And bless me, as much as you can
Now show me some magic
Of which I have been bereaved these years.
Oh! My “princess” just hug me(if you can)
When I am all in tears.
The scars are clear on my skin
When my passion burned me within
This sweet pain in loving season
I missed! I missed! I missed!


V.
Histella:
My true friend!
Your “mottu”; your “shona”
Have heard thee call.
The glory and praise
Of your love and pain, I know
Only I can ameliorate.
And I have come to mend with you
In our beatific romance.

Your love had many followers.
Your love had had its coronal;
You showed me new conn’tation
Of love which is pious in stature.
I made you wait longer more than you deserved.
I made you cry longer then you should have.
I had some limits of my life
But my soul belongs to you.
Plato, Plotinus thought of giving way
Wordsworth thought of
Moulding it in his way.
No one thought of its own angelic nature
To come to terms with our own fascinations.

I have heard thee, your eloquence
You call me “siesta” eyes sometimes
You praised me more than I deserved.
Prayed me as Aphrodite.


VI.
Amoroso (A lover):
It won’t fulfill my appetite!
To make you immortal,
Will be my only expertise.
To place you on the throne of
Goddess of beauty and love forever.

I was a null; Ah! Yes, I was a null.
A mere void in expanse of this world.
Followed by material blissful stuffs.
You brought “light” to my innocent eyes.
Now let us join with the heaven.
And sing praise of our lovely wedlock.


VII.
(Souls of two lovers in perfect harmony):
We burned! We burned! We burned!
Some parts of our flesh do get burned.
This flesh is mortal,
Soul had its own transmuted essence.
The nights were restless,
And days were endless.
This inferno had burned our skin
And the nights asked us to sin.
We evolved. Aah! Yes, we evolved.
Struggling through such trivialities.
And we have come so far this way.
Let’s not waste this fragrance away
In material words like this one.
Come and unite together
In the silence of our love!
In the silence of our love!
In th….Sile… o… …ove..!

Indian Hockey and Economic Deficity, A Routine Process.

It is a Shame for Ministry of Youth Affairs & Sports for ousting the needs and monetary requirements of Indian Hockey Federation and its players. Where has the funds assigned to the Ministry of Youth Affairs & Sports by the government to India for Hockey players. If the Ministry of Youth Affairs & Sports had forwarded the funds to the Indian Hockey Federation then how can the funds deficit? How can they be inadequate? where is the Nationality of our National game lost. I, as an Indian want to apologize to our Hockey team players and members for playing without any patronage and not only this they are willing to play games on their own expenses, Captain Rajpal Singh spoke from the front,"Since the Federation does not have the cash, we decided that we would all pool our resources together and play the World Cup and pay for our own expenses." I want to cheer them up to perform well in the World Cup. This is the naked economic condition of Ministry of Youth Affairs & Sports, that our patriotic players are filling the loss of internal politics and corruption committed by others.Listen to what India Hockey team's goalkeeper Adrian D'Souza has said on this,"You would not believe we got a daily allowance of USD 20 in our last tour of Argentina. And when we won the Azlan Shah Cup last year, the amount was USD 14." I am not intending to be misread here, but it is only possible in India that other games are provided ascendant importance against our national game, Hockey. even if you ask a Ten year old child "what is our National game?" he will lavishly reply "cricket!". The child doesn't even know the names of our Hockey players, and can never recognize them on streets if acquainted. This is the importance given to our national game. Each Cricket player is crowned with 17lakh rupees for a single ODI match and what is provided to our national game....God bless shame to our persons in authority that a true Indian with good fortune, Amitabh Bachhan, is self-forced to offer money to the Hockey Board of India. This is their reputation in the eyes of an Indian. I want to bulge out here one more aspect of it, in this ultra-communicative India, Media has a vital role to provide enlightenment to the mass, media should emphasize more towards other forms of sports as well. What reward has been given to others like Leander Peas, Tennis- Bronze medal(1996), Karnam Malleswari, Women's Weightlifting 69kg- Bronze medal, Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore, Shooting- Silver medal. Abhinav Bindra, Shooting- Gold medal was an exception among these who got some light, but was also been deprived of real merit which he must have received, ignoring five minute clippings of him on every news channel. what is media doing to snatch the attention of the mass towards the lethargic workings of bureaucrats preparing the platform for Commonwealth Games 2010, which India is going to host in October this year, not the next to next year!! I want to apologize for hurting the sentiments of anyone but this is the naked face of our present day corruption and soporific countrymen.