The Poetic Inception – A Monologue


“A poet in his senses knocks vainly at the gates of poetry.”
(Ben Jonson)

No human experience is unique, but each of us has a way of putting language together that is ours alone. Youth really is an intriguing period in one’s life. If one adds writerly ambitions to the difficulties of youth, one must possess an exceptionally strong constitution in order to cope.

Whenever we sit down to write a piece of poetry, our minds are flooded with a million remembered ideas, a billion derived thoughts and a zillion words to link them with. Whether we should follow the rules or simply let our words flow in any form or direction remains the greatest internal fight. The seasoned poets do not face such problems, but the novices or the untrained ones (like me) sometimes go through real dilemmas in choosing ‘what to pen down’ and ‘what not to pen down’. Added to that, distractions of various kinds commove the thinking process and unsettle the mind. Tranquility is sought after. Compromises and sacrifices become quintessentially necessary. In the end, forced eliminations often drain out the core thought that was the source of the written piece initially.

Most poets (rather creative people) often meet an untimely end, due to their obsessive and eccentric nature. This unorganized piece of verse is an attempt to map the mind of a poet embarking on a noetic journey to create a written piece. It has a dual layer of monologue to highlight the dilemmatic nature of the mind. The words written in italics imply that they have a louder impact on his/her cognitive process, and punctuation has been minimally used to bring out the continuum of musing.

Continue reading

Lost in Rhythm


“Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment.
There is no why.”
(Kurt Vonnegut)

Time and Life, whether you want it or not, have a way of going in circles. Ideally, you’d want it to be a linear path—you’d always know where you were going, you’d always be able to move on and leave everything else behind. Instead, you always find yourself where you had begun. You forget things you try to remember. You remember things you’d rather forget. The most frightening thing about memory is that it leaves no choice. It has mastered an incomprehensible art of forgetting. It erases, it smudges, and it fills in the blank spaces with details that don’t exist.

But however you remember it—or choose to remember it—the past is the foundation that holds your life in place. Without its support, you’d have nothing for guidance. What defines you isn’t “where you’re going”, but “where you’ve been”. There are things that will never change, things you will carry along always.

Time is an equal opportunity employer. Rich people can’t buy more hours. Scientists can’t invent new minutes. And you can’t save time to spend it on another day. What you perceive as precious is not ‘time’, but the one point that is ‘out of time’: the Now. The more you are focused on time—past and future—the more you miss the Now, the most precious thing there is.

Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decrease, regrets mount. Time is such a waste of time to think about, because the longer you reflect on it, the more of it you lose. Yesterday is but today’s memory and tomorrow is today’s dream. So, flow with the rhythm and start counting how many Now’s you’ve collected and preserved yet!

Owing to some liminal displacement, my thoughts got a bit carried away. Hence, this poetic outcome:

Continue reading

Shine On Tanumoy With The… “Shine On Award”!


 

Hurrah! My first ever Blog Award! 🙂

Thank you so much Kavita Joshi for nominating me for the SHINE ON AWARD. She is a great person to be around and learn from (even virtually), and has a wondrously versatile blog. I would recommend all to visit her web log here.

Just 22 days of my experience in the ‘blogosphere’ and a challenge has been hurled at me – the challenge to ‘shine on’! With such seasoned bloggers and great souls around, The Nomadic Soliloquist is ready for the next adventure. Big hug and thanks to all the friends and the followers for your interest, contributions and suggestions.

Continue reading

Beat Your Life!


“Your life is your life
Don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
Be on the watch.
There are ways out.
There is a light somewhere.
It may not be much light but
It beats the darkness.”
(Charles Bukowski, ‘The Laughing Heart’)

How many of us today are ready to be bogged down by cockeyed conventions? How many are ready to accept established norms just for the sake of obeisance? How many will wholeheartedly oblige if some drag king decides to rule nonchalantly? Hardly a soul I believe; just those who proudly flaunt their cultivated masks of fake conformity, and those who sit and whine when things fall apart.

The truth is: genuineness and unconventionality is what helps in making a mark on the world. If you go down just one corridor of thought, you never get to see what’s in the rooms leading off it. Beyond all our actions stands the larger shadow: How are we to choose between what we have been taught to think ‘right’ and something else which ‘might’ be? Real, constructive mental power lies in the mental conduct and the creative thoughts that eventually shape our destiny. So, develop a train of thought on which to ride. Change your perception and you change your world. You just have one mortal life in hand. Beat it! Beat it well!

Flow of thoughts got overflowed, and led to this small piece of verse:

Continue reading

The Naked Somnambulist


“What hath night to do with sleep?”
(John Milton, ‘Paradise Lost’)

The world rests in the night. Trees, mountains, fields and faces are released from the prison of shape and the burden of exposure. Each thing creeps back into its own nature within the shelter of the dark. Darkness is the ancient womb. Night-time is womb-time. Our souls come out to play with nightfall. The darkness absolves everything; the struggle for identity and impression fades away.

But for some, night-time is the time for a surreal adventure, it is the moment of surrender to the darkest dreams, it is the hallway to purge the thoughts of a life known long before.

A poem portraying a sleepwalker’s journey through the portals and vaults of his past life:

Continue reading

End it like Beckham


“There is no real ending.
It’s just the place where you stop the story.”
(Frank Herbert)

The first time when the real meaning of ‘male appeal’ evolved in our generation was the moment when we saw him on-and-off the field, we heard him in TV shows, and we became his ardent fan. You simply could never scorn this fellow, no matter whichever club/team he plays for, whatever product he endorses, or whether he can still bend that ball or score from the halfway line.

’Cause he is the one, the only, the ‘David Beckham’.


“Veni, vidi, vici”
:
There can’t be a better tagline for him, ever.
A poem as a tribute to the talismanic football wizard as he bids farewell to the game:

Continue reading

Copa del Affray!


“Justice isn’t about fixing the past;
it’s about healing the pasts future.”
(Jackson Burnett)

“Violent end to Spanish Cup as Atlético Madrid beat Real Madrid for the first time since 1999,” read the news.

Further: “José Mourinho and Cristiano Ronaldo were both sent off as Real Madrid lost a dramatic, bad-tempered Copa del Rey final to Atlético Madrid – the first time they had been beaten by their city rivals in 26 games, and in their own stadium too.”

An after-thought penned down as a small verse, fueled by the animated cup finale performance by my beloved club:

Continue reading

The Samaritan’s Gift



“A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions,

and the roots spring up and make new trees.
The greatest work that kindness does to others is that
it makes them kind themselves.”
(Amelia Earhart)

What goes around comes around – and with kindness, it really does. Research shows that being kind to others increases our own levels of happiness as well as theirs. What’s more, it has a knock-on effect: kindness is contagious, so it makes our communities nicer places to be.

Kindness can be as simple as a smile, a thank-you, or a word of encouragement. It’s a way of connecting, even if only for a brief moment, with those we pass in our daily lives. It doesn’t have to cost anything or take much time – what’s important is that, it’s an act of genuine care and thoughtfulness for another person.

To be kind, it’s important for us to be aware of the people around us, and to notice their needs and feelings. We all have an innate compassion but sometimes it takes bit of time for us to tune into it. As the great Dalai Lama says: “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.”

A visual insight presented as a poem, observed while I had gone out for one of my evening strolls and accidentally thought of enjoying some finger-licking KFC pieces:

Continue reading

Like a Nightingale


“But there’s a story behind everything.
How a picture got on a wall.
How a scar got on your face.
Sometimes the stories are simple,
and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking.
But behind all your stories is always your mother’s story,
because hers is where yours begin.”
(Mitch Albom)


One cannot forget mother and remember God.

One cannot remember mother and forget God.

Why? Because these two sacred persons, God and mother – partners in creation, in love, in sacrifice, in service – are bound forever, as one.

A short poem as a tribute to all the loving mothers on the occasion of Mother’s Day (which I feel, should be celebrated on every single day of our mortal existence):

Continue reading

The Light with a Soul


Anticlockwise from top right: Young Tagore on stage as an actor; With his son Rathindranath Tagore, and daughters Madhurilata Devi (Bela), Mira Devi & Renuka Devi; At Albert Einstein’s Berlin home (1926); Tagore with Tasher Desh drama group; Visiting Helen Keller in New York (1930) and reciting, “Aami chini go chini tomare, ogo Bideshini.”; Kabiguru in Shantiniketan; Spending time with Mahatma Gandhi; Last Journey from Shantiniketan.


“The song I came to sing 

remains unsung to this day. 
I have spent my days in stringing 
and in unstringing my instrument.”

From ‘Gitanjali’ (গীতাঞ্জলি)

Reading Tagore is seeing life more clearly, hearing life more sweetly, living life more completely.

His songs enable us to be more creative in our thinking and doing, to be more compassionate in our feelings and dealings.

And more at peace with ourselves, and the world.

Continue reading