Desicritics Category: Culture: Language

Poessay: Honesty and Trust

temporal — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 22:01:07 EDT

San's favourite phrase once used to be 'to be honest...' I would wince and say under the breadth "wohi tau" in the acerbic tone of the actor in the sit-com 'office office'.

Why must honesty precede with vocal reaffirmations? Are we less honest without such declarations?

Or are such 'warnings' part of some nefarious truth in advertising or packaging guideline revelations?

Truth has a way of penetrating armour. It does not need a preamble nor a warning. We can feel its piercing pain if it is unpleasant (which it mostly is).

Have you noticed when things do not affect us directly we can afford to be brutally truthful? I call it the BSS - Bitch-Slut Syndrome. (according to the narrator one who sleeps around is a bitch, but if she does not sleep with the narrator then she turns into a slut.)

And when there is a remote chance of it affecting us or a person dear to us than we embellish it with sugar coats. Like David Frum in that essay in the Newsweek where he wanted to bash Rush Limbaugh and blast him into space: but being Barbara's son he stepped around that ardent wish. Oh, he may be a drug addict, philanderer, has several failed marriages, jets in a private plane, is obnoxious, irrational, overweight, but he has a voice and we must respect it as one of the several voices in the republican fold.

We mention rationality, justification, weather, conditions, considerations doing the amazing tap dance on needle head to reveal the truth while trying not to upset ourselves or another person.

***

janay kaun dekhay ga
muskurati aankhion
kay chalakhtay aansoo

(who'd witness
the downpour
of smiling eyes)

Drop by drop, they fall, and morph into layers of disregard...mingling, partying, disappearing, re appearing, fading in euphemisms of memories labeled as past...distant or near...

I wrote reappearing...as in mujh se pehli si mohabbat m'ray mehboob na maang

Is the lover demanding it? Or is it the flutter of heartbeats ignited at a chance encounter with the past lover? A flicker of flame that was once a fire?

But as Faiz continues:

aur bhee dukh haiN zamaanay meiN muhabbat ke sivaa
raahateN aur bhi vas'l ki raahat ke sivaa
mujh se pehli si mohabbat meray mehbub na maaNg

There are heartaches aplenty (in the world) other than those of love
There is peace and joy aplenty other than the ecstacy of love
Don't ask me to rekindle that love, O Love

To be honest, agar maaNg bhee lay tou bura kiya hay. Dil ko achcha lagay ga. [tr: to be honest, even if the lover is reminiscing about lost love it has a nice feel about it.]

Trust me!

poetry: Coward, Coward, Burning Bright

temporal — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 10:17:17 EST

sorry dee, (and sorry W B)

Coward, coward, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame taliban symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of your idiocies?
On what wings dare you aspire?
What delusions dare seize the fire?

And what twisted and crazy thought
Could screw the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy loins began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the sickle? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the saints make thee?

Chuddi, chuddi, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame taliban symmetry?

Poetry: does it matter

temporal — Sun, 8 Feb 2009 07:45:50 EST

does it matter?
will it matter?
if the legs are crossed
or left bare
swift's eggs broken from which end?
wrapped in traditional garb?
it does matter, perhaps
for legs that hold high office
and think with knee-caps?

pondering such
is the nadir
of thinking
(with the lower half)

and speaking of halves
we are not the other half
of halves lost in celestial orbits
though admittedly we are not whole

forgive me dear
last night...
forgive me last night
when in heat
yes, yes that happens
i said things
not meant to be aired

and while deliberating, we ponder
and muse unlike desani's hatter from
above the navel
which is where the sages think from

most deeds
resulting from the foresaken thinking
emanates not from above neck
nor from the heart below

and
drawing from our collective past
so many innocent sweet ones
have reminded us (all)
not to think from below (the waist)

which brings us to global warming
abusing resources of the dharti mata
non renewable ...
runaway population no one talks about
deficit in comprehension
worse than trade deficit
tolerance and un-valentinish love

worse than...
don't dare go there t
this is not the week nor the season
ha!
is there a season for madness?
who'd answer this?
desani? modi? kahane? goebbels? the son of son of ...?
and why not the daughter of daughter of ...?
(binte-binte for the un-initiated)

how could i mention desani
with the exalted ones?
does it matter?
will it matter?
when the abuses
emanate from above
and below

image credit zahra david

An Open Letter to temporal

temporal — Sun, 1 Feb 2009 12:22:06 EST

Dear temporal:

I am a bit hesitant to write to you, but since this is the season of open letters I am tempted to speak my mind.

Why are you so dense mostly?

I know you claim to revere words and pray at the Temple of Words, but sometimes you do treat the words as altar boys are 'allegedly' treated by some in the Catholic Church.

And your witticisms. Mostly I chalk it up to my inexperience, but on the odd occasion when the mule in me wakes up and I go all over Google to dig up the semi obscure references and then come back to your post the maza has dissipated. Can you speak more clearly, less obtusely?

And what is it with your polite demeanour? What kind of facade is it? How come you are so selective and pointedly ignore responding to some desicritics? I mean not always, but there are the odd times when they do make a good observation. Do you run a mental blacklist? If so, that is discriminative, even though I read somewhere you call it discerning.

Did they run away with your girl friends? Go easy on them. It is apparent that you equate them with dogs chasing moving cars and it is prudent to drive on. Dogs will remain dogs. But still...

And your obsession with Palestinians and your ire at Israeli occupation and intransigence. Where I come from, there is a saying Jis ki laathi oos ki bhains (He who pays the piper calls the tune). I am sure you would have heard of it. Then why are you so obsessive about it? Let the Palestinians figure out the simplest and easiest route to their problems. To the last man, woman and child let them convert to Judaism. Once they become Jews, they will have their cake, and get to eat it too.

And finally your poems, what can I say? I would forgive you, because of that am no god poem. I carry it in my wallet all the time.

no offence intended,

a passer by

Poessay: Rosary 24 - Monologue

temporal — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 01:44:12 EST

Go for it yaar temporal. You bloody self effacing, self effusive, evasive temporal. Go jump in one h two o. You wanted to experience death. Go ahead. What is stopping you?

Nothing is stopping me. Even if I am reluctant to meet it, face I will - the inevitability. I will die like I have died many times before. You, me, him, her, believer, unbeliever, undecided all will hear that music. Six under or six over. So why not embrace it?

Embrace it? Death wish? Resignation? Wait. I am not in doubt. You are. I do not care if a eighteen wheeler splashes my brain all over the tarmac. You do. You wonder how you would greet Death. What will it be like. Will there be a vision when you are flat lined. How soon the blood in the vein will coagulate. Soul - if there is one - how will it escape. Will you feel it. Does it float? Is it indomitable? Is it a part of a whole? Is it a prisoner?

Stop there. Do not overwhelm me with your rhetoric. It is I who poses queries - unresolved and raging within. You, you are just the shadow. With me every living moment. Deserting me when I die. I can and will question that phase. You cannot. I will, if I chose to, deny - deny life, death or soul. That is my sole prerogative.

Earlier:
Poessay: Rosary 1 - Pink Sand Beach
Poessay: Rosary 2 - Fishing
Poessay: Rosary 3 - Adam and Eve Limited - I
Poessay: Rosary 4 - Adam and Eve Limited - II
Poessay: Rosary 5 - Descending
Poessay: Rosary 6 - Dinner In The Park
Poessay: Rosary 7 - Under the Jamun Tree
Poessay: Rosary 8 - Voices In The Air
Poessay: Rosary 9 - Life Rosary I
Poessay: Rosary 10 - Life Rosary II
Poessay: Rosary 11 - Creating In Isolation
Poessay: Rosary 12 - Kohled Eyes
Poessay: Rosary 13 - By the Lake
Poessay: Rosary 14 - Snow Flakes
Poessay: Rosary 15 - The Drop
Poessay: Rosary 16 - Ageless Quest - tishnagi
Poessay: Rosary 17 - Hemashree
Poessay: Rosary 18 - burning blazing fire rages
Poessay: Rosary 19 - Word Whirlpool - BhaNwur LafzouN Ka
Poessay: Rosary 20 - Thanksgiving
Poessay: Rosary 21 - KhamOshi - Wordless
Poessay: Rosary 22 - A Simple Poem
Poessay: Rosary 23 - Musings

poetry: different suns

temporal — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 07:02:52 EST

The 2009 massacre in Gaza will be for
international solidarity with Palestine what
the Sharpeville massacre was for the
international solidarity against apartheid
in South Africa. (Wissam Nassar/MaanImages)

here is a familiar routine
after an honest day's efforts
you head home in your car/train/bus
once home you follow the rituals
wash-change-drink-tv-dinner
retrieve messages-surf-help children
                                if any - with homework
prepare for the next day
will it rain or snow?
brush, change again, go to bed
turn off the light, read or
                               make love
                               or toss and turn
tomorrow is another sunrise away
                              for you

not for the families of gaza
their sun has not set for 60 years

poessay: the one time...

temporal — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 03:30:19 EST

credit tanay behera

the one time she should have resisted the temptation to wave back...Benazir
the one time horses and donkeys should have resisted...mules? editor

the one time pedestrian legends in their minds get off their horses...defies logic-editor
the one time Gore should have challenged the Senile Court...O la la
the one time Bush could utter a simple sentence...bush talking? Ask Moses
the one time Palestinians could roll over and play dead...unlike Hussain of Karbela not Tikrit)
the one time Israelis could resist cleansing and Bantustising...Nazi heirs not victims
the one time Nelson Mandela could lay it on Mugabe...but he is retired!

the one time she should have resisted my advances...OK it is conjectural...and Editor agrees

the one time riders run and horses ride...dream on
the one time the bulldozer had stopped dead...instead of Rachel Corrie
the one time a bullet could be recalled...Arch Duke Ferdinand...runners-up JFK, MLK, Gandhi, LAK...

the one time commonsense should have held his peace...OK disregard one time
the one time smallsquirrel should have bitten her lips...hmmmm...not likely...sub your lips?
the one time i should have held my peace...one time?
the one time the driver was not drunk...Diana
the one time the snake should have refrained...that would be the clincher

Poessay: Rosary 23: Musings

temporal — Mon, 5 Jan 2009 06:48:44 EST

Edge of precipice. Cliff?
Diving board. Looking down into water.
Water?

Of hope.
What hope? Mirage. Shimmer. Illusion. Belief in the unseen. Acceptance.
Acceptance? With conviction.
Conviction of what? Faith or reasoning?

Of reason.
Rationality. Two plus...Cause and...Things not...
Self-existential illusions. Illusions or hoaxes? Certifiable?

Of faith.
Belief of unfathomed power. Recognizant of the unrecognised.
Unresolved nothingness. Ensconced nothingness. Transference.

Back to hope, reason, faith. Nothing.
What if nothing is the vacuum cementing life to death.

Oh death? The final dot. -30- Kaput. Kapitsh. End.

End, another beginning. Movement towards another dot. To other
unresolved queries. To other needs and desires. To know or to give
in.

Again.
Earlier:
Poessay: Rosary 1 - Pink Sand Beach
Poessay: Rosary 2 - Fishing
Poessay: Rosary 3 - Adam and Eve Limited - I
Poessay: Rosary 4 - Adam and Eve Limited - II
Poessay: Rosary 5 - Descending
Poessay: Rosary 6 - Dinner In The Park
Poessay: Rosary 7 - Under the Jamun Tree
Poessay: Rosary 8 - Voices In The Air
Poessay: Rosary 9 - Life Rosary I
Poessay: Rosary 10 - Life Rosary II
Poessay: Rosary 11 - Creating In Isolation
Poessay: Rosary 12 - Kohled Eyes
Poessay: Rosary 13 - By the Lake
Poessay: Rosary 14 - Snow Flakes
Poessay: Rosary 15 - The Drop
Poessay: Rosary 16 - Ageless Quest - tishnagi
Poessay: Rosary 17 - Hemashree
Poessay: Rosary 18 - burning blazing fire rages
Poessay: Rosary 19 - Word Whirlpool - BhaNwur LafzouN Ka
Poessay: Rosary 20 - Thanksgiving I Poessay:
Rosary 21: KhamOshi - Wordless Poessay:
Rosary 22 - A Simple Poem

poetry: january 1, 2009

temporal — Thu, 1 Jan 2009 15:39:29 EST

georgiou emptied the bins - coffee cups,
crushed cans, mickeys, wrappers, paper tissues
and sweeeping the Nathan Phillips Square
gathered frozen kisses, melting sighs,
discarded resolutions and shouted greetings
that had ushered in the first day of an uncertain year
as he went about methodically he knew he'd survive
- as would most in the west, relatively unscathed

the future is full of long shadows
for those in occupied Gaza, Somalia,
Darfur, FATA, Afghanistan, Iraq...
the world has shuttered the window
blinds drawn

wish you and those around you
health and peace for the coming months

having put in his hours in the chill
georgiou smiled pensively, took off work gloves
changed and went home

Poessay: I'm Not Dev Das and You're Not Anarkali

temporal — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 12:20:07 EST

painting - Gulgee

Permanence is a Utopian illusion. It is nurtured by groups that ferment a vested interest - popes, padres, rabbis, maulvis, pundits, financiers - purveyors of permanence.

Insomniac Dream Sellers of
Truth, Beauty, Wisdom, Courage, Love, Anger, Hatred

Sea
and Mountain
Enslaved and encircled with smile.

Then the smile melted
His?
Her's?
His smile melted her? Her smile melted him?
0r like the shivering polar ice
Melting under the rape of environment
Euphemism for global warming

Sea - the mother of transmogrification
-clouds, snow, rain, lakes, rivers
And completing the circle - sea

The circular reverberation
Womb - grave - womb
Is the tale of drops
spermatozoa
"Read, read in the names of thy Lord..."

***

for believers it is Him
for others some grand design
that would finally still
                           the drop
the last meltdown
when neither love
                           nor hate
will deter, defer, persuade or play
                         when the smile
will last for ever sans flesh

we, who indulge in super hate
we, who miss not an opportunity
to throw barbs, grenades
and uranium tipped mines and bombs
we, who excel at malevolence
- when will love conquer us?

yaadOn ka guldasta thamay*
sar-saratay sukoon maiN ghar'q
jub saa'yay hum aa ghosh hotay haiN
tou mudhoshi ki devi bhee
khud hee muskurati hogi
hosh apnay kho bethti hogi

ab tou yaad ki baiRiyouN maiN qaid
dabay qadmON t'ra tasawwur
youN chala aata hay kay
khood faraibi ka shaiba
bhee choo ker nahiN guzarta
choti ki is joostujoo maiN
khaai maiN girnay ka ehsaas kisay

said the bluebird to the bulbul
the simpleton is unaware
and the curmudgeon unconcerned
love has been cremated
in hiroshima

Man shorn of humanity is hurting and hurtling down the precipice, brakes worn, singling gaily, oblivious of the rushing winds of time, aware but not cognizant of the abyss.

_________________________________________________
* translation:

clutching the bouquet of memories
and drowned in the whispering quiet
as the shadows embrace
the goddess of intoxication
would smile at herself
while letting go of sobriety

bounded in memory-chains
your thoughts tiptoe
swirling and cascading
around whims and doubts

in the strive to conquer the peak
who thinks of a fall into the abyss