April 11 TSL's Napowrimo Prompt Roseate Sonnet by Rohini John on Lives Lost during Lockdown

 April 11th NAPOWRIO TSL Prompt by Rohini John Lives Lost in Lockdown (A Roseate Sonnet)

That day he came up, my friend, up the stairs

I went out of my room to meet him at once

She is gone, he said. We hugged

We wept. His mother, afar. Exile burns.

Nuzha too died here of Covid. Just a few days before

She was a colleague

Then she was no more

Another one gone to lockdown days and death's league

Two days back my friend messaged me

John Evans was gone. Only fifty-seven. Three

Roses who passed away in this strange hiatus

One, the last, an old classmate, whom I last in his house met

Some years back, when his mother was alive yet

Eaves of life and death. These day's vagitus.

April 10 Napowrimo TSL Prompt by Feby Joseph ekphrastic poem on Seurat's Bathers

 April tenth The Bathers at Asnières by Georges Seurat TSL's Napowrimo Ekphrastic prompt given by

Feby Joseph

.

A Roseate Sonnet as a tribute to Georges Seurat, Impressionist painter who was accepted only after his death as a great painter and founder of the pointillist school of painting which has no followers after him as only he knew its intricacies properly.

In the distance the factory chimney belches smoke

But it has not yet encroached on this sylvan scene

Sufficiently to give us alarm and no hope

Nature is still ruling and serene.

He draws no faces but they say these are workers

What he gives us is painting where the shadows and light are luminous

A masterpiece of pointillism and balaye brushstrokes

A world full of colour and the concretization of silence and still(-life)ness

What did it cost you, Georges Seurat? How many versions

Did you have to paint before hitting on this final masterpiece that was rejected?

Reasons. Was it one of them, for your early death at 31,

Or must great art be always misunderstood before it is accepted and rewarded?

'Sunday at La Grand Jatte' and 'Bathers at Asnières' have I gazed and gazed on

Eye-drunk, at the Beauty of Art-Life, by you; perfect composition composed.

April 9th 4 Poems Prompt TSL's Napowrimo Ripped Jeans given by Radhakrishnan sir

 Take 4 with Radhakrishnan Krishnan

Ripped Jeans
We bonded over ripping up jeans
She ripped mine up
And I, hers.
It was ripping.

Ripped Jeans Take 3 with

Radhakrishnan Krishnan

I want my daughters to be free to wear what they like

Ripped jeans or mini skirts or bikinis or swimsuits

Or hotpants or shorts or showing cleavage or whatever

I really don't care if they only wear body paint and tattoos or nothing

But as a father I know out there are sharks

And sharks are violent and only know to be predators

What are the ways to deal with the sharks

Cut/Rip off any part of their bodies to control them

That they try to use to hurt women

This may seem violent but is a good deterrent

May even be a good detergent

Art, porn, or video games as outlets cannot lead to salvation in some types of criminals as the effect can swing both ways

In some to pretending in society they are not bad and in some to actions that were inspired by all the darkness in those three

Only law and the iron hand helps

As a father when my daughters hit the streets alone

In ripped jeans and high style

I want to build a wall

Divide the world into safe zone and danger zone

Keep the sharks out

And let only the seals and porpoises in

who believe in love, romance, mutual consent, fidelity, loyalty, love for children and other things

I even suggest sex profiling, surveillance, trackers implanted and electric shocks

For the criminally minded as is done to paedophiles

In movies when they go out on bail in the US

They don't belong on land

In heaven only houris should be allowed to dance

gambol and play

protected by their guardians who are fatherly or eunuchs.

April 9th TSL NAPOWRIMO prompt Ripped Jeans given by

Radhakrishnan Krishnan

and my poem on it Take 2

When I was a child

My dad and mom told me

Monae, Jesus says

Never look at a woman

With lust in your eyes

Because it is better to

Go to heaven

With two eyes

Than with none

As if you do feel tempted to look with lust

You had better pluck them out

So you won't commit that sin again

I took them seriously

So even if you put a naked woman

As beautiful as Rambha, Urvashi, Thilottama or Menaka

In front of me

I know the problem is inside me

And keep my eyes pure

And look away

To obey Jesus and my parents

I pray not to be led into temptation

And to overcome sin inside

This has saved me many times

I'm not the only one

Gandhi was saved from his own incontinence and lack of self control and lust and lack of sexual discipline by saying Ram's name

When he went to meet a sex worker

Once

And I have a friend here

Whose mother taught him

Never to act dishonourably to a woman

We don't fall or yield so easily

And there were many men in the older generation who did not, either; who loved only one woman, their wives, all their long lives.

And I know a mother

with two sons

who taught them

never to do anything bad to women

It's not the ripped jeans

that is the cause of lust or rape

but sexual desire

inside you,

you human beings

that if you let grow into a beast

can lead you to harm

and to hurt others

not knowing

for everything

there is a right time and a right place

and right person

Don't make ripped jeans your cover!

The cover for your lust

your sin

and your sexual misbehaviour

molestation, harassment, excess and sexual misdemeanor

and your saying men will be men

and boys will be boys

all lies

to make women

your slaves to use as you please

when they are not!

Instead learn from Jesus and Ram

and Buddha and Sufi saints

or keep on blaming women

asking them to dress modestly

when it is you who are evil, sinful, lustful and immodest in your thoughts!

Ripped Jeans April 9 Prompt TSL's Napowrimo

In others' homes it's different

In mine it is different

My daughters wear ripped jeans

When I open my mouth itself

As a conscientious father

Before I can say a word

My wife takes their side

She sings from Mary Poppins

"Cast off the shackles of yesterday

Shoulder to shoulder into the fray!"

And from My Fair Lady

"They can still rule the land without you.

Windsor Castle will stand without you.

And without much ado

We can all muddle through without you."

My daughters join in raucously

What a cacophony!

I cover my ears

I flee

"Temporarily lost at sea"

At all my Madonnas who want to be free

Beating a hasty retreat

For now

O, Phew!

April 8th Poem on prompt given by me for TSL's NAPOWRIMO which was Autism Awareness

 

April 8th Poem on Autism Awareness Prompt in TSL's NAPOWRIMO given by

Ampat Koshy

Sujata Mishra

Sangeetha John

Nikhat Mahmood

Angela Baumann

1. Ma, do you remember that shop Thom's in Bangalore. You used to take me there. I would go and hug the refrigerated freezer where they keep all the ice creams. No one understood why except Dad one day when he came and hugged it with me. I wanted to feel the vibration running into and through me. Touch and feel matters a lot to me. Now you can no longer take me there or I touch and feel that, I am too big and they would not let me.

2. Ma, when we go to restaurants, people would look at me strangely when I took the food and smelled it. Don't they know that that is a very good way of knowing for my insides whether it is edible or not? Or lick it. They have lost this art which is olfactory and gustatory but I have not.

3. Ma, you and my sisters and Dad even would all sometimes cry when I bang my head on the wall till it bruises and even breaks into a lump on my forehead but it gives me relief somehow. Do you remember Temple Grandin's torture machine? It is like that. I don't feel the pain and you can't stop me at such times as it would not be safe for me or you. It is my hyposensitivity though it may be dangerous for my brains.

4. Ma, it is true that I am hypersensitive, sometimes a small light can be magnified for me a million times and a small sound. Sometimes music is piercingly sweet but sometimes coughs and sneezes make me go mad with anger. Some surfaces are rough to the touch and some soft as butter. I am swallowed up by a thousand keener sensations of sight, sound, smell, taste and touch that dance in me in a symphony of order and chaos than in neurotypicals and I have no language except body, face, and features and gestures to express it in/with. Ma, I like structure, order, peace, quietness and hate change and crowds. I like large places and spaciousness and huge houses and nature and soothing music.

5. Ma, crazy people want me normal and some want me like this even in other lifetimes and they are all crazy. I am not so different and I struggle to prove to you all that I am l, just like you all, and even my temper tantrums and rolling on the ground and all are only like that of other children.

6. Ma, I wish that there was no such thing called co-morbidities. As if this was not sufficient.

7. Ma, do you remember why they took me out of school. I used to feel claustrophobic in the school bus and attack others and they stopped me, even the special school could not include me due to my claustrophobia in going and coming. Do you remember how I used to bite my hand to not hurt others, Now I Don't do that Ma, I overcame.

8. Ma, when I used to go to ABA I was their star pupil and they would bring in parents to watch me. I was good at piano but my teacher left me. Only my niece and sisters bring my talents out Ma. Why is the world unable to tap my hidden strengths and powers? I am not a savant but I am not a fool either, I come from a family who are all high achievers and want to achieve something too. I just need the right kind of guidance. Ma, am I not the best cook and make the best dosas and am I not good at painting and drawing?

9. Ma, I am naughty and mischievous sometimes and like fun but do not like it when you cry unless I made you cry by being naughty. I get angry and frustrated and low and depressed and have mood swings just like everyone else but try to control it just like everyone else, Ma. Honestly. I love you and everyone and do not want to hurt anyone and don't now but don't know how to explain all this to the world.

10. Ma, I used to run off but somehow always returned, thank God. I am afraid if you all leave me what will happen to me sometimes. Are you afraid too what you will do if I leave you and go away? Earlier? To the place of no return?

11. Ma, all these labels don't mean anything of autism and spectrum and ableism and disability and being challenged, or retarded or mad or insane or crazy or anything, what matters is to love and be loved.

12. Ma, people don't know anything, they think I don't but sometimes I think they are the ones who don't. Mostly I am happy and music is my solace and the company of you and my siblings and caregivers enough though I and you all are rejected by society.

13. Ma, do you remember the pebbles I used to line up endlessly and neatly and the toy cars and the shoes? Why can't the world be like that, simple and orderly?

14. Ma, you have washed me and cleaned every part of me even as I grew to be an adult and taught me how to become self-sufficient in the house in all these things. How can I see God except in you? The way you have seen God in me.

A review of Chaayam Pooshiya Veedu II by me.

https://www.facebook.com/MayaTheFilm/posts/944381693048840

A beautiful review of our new film

Maya: a Spiritual Thriller

by Dr. Ampat Koshy Thank you for the high praise towards the end, Dr. K! We can only hope to some day become worthy of it!

Review of the movie

Maya: a Spiritual Thriller

(The Painted House II)

By Dr. Ampat Koshy

Scripted, Produced, and Directed by Brothers Babusenan or the 'Darker' (as apposite to Dagar) Brothers.

I had watched Painted House 1 and written a review of what was right and wrong with it, according to me. I am happy to watch its sequel, though that is probably not the right word for it.

The Painted House could also mean the house splashed with paint which is more like it.

This house could be reminiscent of the Golden Womb or the void into which God spoke and everything (the paint) came into existence.

The movie is called a spiritual thriller. It has in it a girl called Maya but it is also about Maya. I too have a story about a Maya and so did Irving Stone.

It starts with a quote from the Bhagavatham about how easily Naradan is taken in by Maya despite feeling that he won't be taken in by it after wanting to learn what it is from Krishna.

To understand the beginning more one has to have read Glass Bead Game's ending which has three stories and one is about the nature of reality and illusion according to Hesse's understanding of India, Hinduism, and other things like spirituality and religion.

Naturally, therefore, the character is called Siddharth or Siddhu, referencing Hesse again. But let me call him Sid as an offbeat tribute to Syd Barrett and Sid Vicious, both not connected, though Sid looks a bit like Syd Barrett.

And Gautama Buddha.

Siddharth has invented a dream machine that will bring happiness to all with no side effects and no addiction. The new drug that will be a hit or so he thinks. He is an idealist. He thinks he is going to do mankind a favour with his invention dealing with the mind, psychoanalysis, hypnosis and virtuality and other new fangled things he is obviously deeply impressed by and thinks the world of and is totally into.

He wants to sell his machine to a big company and make money and take the girl he loves, Maya, wherever she wants to, to do whatever they like together, to enjoy the rest of their life together. It is a case of 'true' love. She wants a baby, but he does not. Is it true love?

He goes to the studio to do some final fine-tuning on his machine but a stranger intrudes to get his codes with a knife and ends up getting killed by Siddhu trying to save his own life and invention. The stranger has been sent by the buyer who sees the machine can be used for other possibilities Sid doesn't want it used for or doesn't know about, to build a Multimedia Multiplayer Online Virtual and Augmented Reality Game like no other before where one can not only enter and control one's own dreams but others' dreams too. Sid calls his friend Hari who promises to help him get rid of the body.

The buyer now sends a goon called Victor (lol, again aptly named as he is a total fucking loser as most Xtians are these days and lost and a villain) to Maya to get her, to coerce Siddharth into capitulating.

But Maya escapes with the help of Siddharth and they wander TVPM but surprisingly get a call on Sid's new sim from an old man who says he will help them out of trouble by waking Sid up from his dream. Sid refuses thinking the old man who claims to have been sent by his father is mad.

The two on the run go to a Teena for help but the goon arrives there too. Sid and Maya escape after knocking him out and taking his gun. They go to Hari's house. The rest of the story needs to be seen to be believed.

The movie ends with a talk with the old man where Sid tells him that he sought happiness for himself and all and the result was sorrow for himself and many. The old man laughs and tells him that the real problem is that instead of looking at oneself and seeing what is there inside which may be what we don't like seeing we start playing a role to hide it to ourselves and others and that is Maya as is the search for happiness and that will cease once we stop caring what others think of us and know who we are and accept it.

This ties in with the Hamlet quote in the movie from Shakespeare that can be paraphrased as we all have a face but prepare another.

Apart from the movie's truth which few will grasp, unless they have been enlightened by the Holy Spirit, the movie is perfect in direction, editing and camera work, in its music, dialogues, and pretty near everything except in the acting which is sometimes flawed but the casting is excellent. It harks back to the first movie in the scene of the deserted chair on the beach and the old man who is an 'enlightener', a nomad who is like the avadhoots, in a new guise with a mobile phone, and reminds us of the unenlightened one in the first movie. The ending is perfect as Siddharth himself vanishes with no attempt at revenge or trying to undo the harm his dream machine can cause by having fallen into the wrong hands, saying the old man may be right, after all and that he doesn't know. He has started on his/the real journey to wisdom by admitting he does not know.

Unlike Painted House 1 I am unable to find anything to criticize here and give this gentler, milder, subtler movie with suggestive touches rather than explanatory notes and gestures to lead one to the depths, that is thereby taut, and one that I could not stop watching for even a second a 4.5/5 stars. The story, plot, characterization, themes, and point of view are all perfectly handled here.

People talk of Adoor, Aravindan, Padmakumar, Padmarajan, Shaji Karun, IV Sasi, the director of Adaminte Variyellu K G George, the director of Mani Muzhakkam, Bakkar, Don Palathara, the director of Ponthan Mada (TV Chandran), Shyama Prasad for his TV movie Uyarthezhunelpu or of Chemmeen or P Baskaran, and several others, when talking of Malayalam art film. But for me, its finest offering so far is arguably this movie as it has a beauty that is like that of a single rose flower, perfect and slight and full of softness, colours, and fragrance in all its nuances and grooves and not without its metaphysical thorns for the discerning eye.

The absence of the North of Kerala is noteworthy. The influence of Adam and Eve's myth and Tarkovsky or Parajanov is woven in more subtly here as is that of Zoltan Fabri. Lovely!

Thanks, dear Santosh Babusenan and Satish Babusenan

Click link https://youtu.be/86G7BxhJmDU

to watch the film now

April 7 TSL NAPOWRIMO's poem written by me based on Sunita Singh's prompt Illusion

 When parents fight

and children get hurt

and later they make up

or they don't

the children grow up

hating them both

or one of them

or the other

or conflicted

or making their peace

that that is how it is

in this world

and grow up

well or ill

due to the dysfunctional

homes they had

and are not understood

by society

who cut them no slack

and suffer or cause

suffering to others

as a result

we have to say

it is all

only an illusion

Let it go

When a child is born

and cannot hear

or cannot speak

or some other such thing

and people say

his parents sinned

or he or she is reaping

for his sins

or you did not give

enough to the poor

to the father

or it's genetic

to the mother

not knowing science

all you can say

is these people are in an illusion

blinded

and say aloud

let us be

When loved ones fall ill or die

and you pray

for them

as you cannot pay the bills

or need them there

or for resurrection

and God turns a blind eye

and a deaf ear

to your prayer

and you become as a result

atheist

or resigned

or angry

or even more confused and sad and rebellious than before

just let it go

and think of this

Who wants to live forever?

Life ends with death

and maybe an illusion

and death itself, who knows

might be an illusion

When girls are raped

and people say

that is awful

but say

let the rapists go

you know their words

of gender justice

and gender equality and equity

were all lies

and you say nothing

but if possible

you go alone

after the fucker

and kill him

teach him the illusion is thinking

nemesis does not catch up with you

to make up for the depression

and trauma

and suffering the victim goes through

all her life

scarred

her faith and hope lost

her pride in her gender identity in confusion

while the other so-called wise people go around saying

don't worry

life itself is an illusion

When evil abounds

and even the best are not good enough

and husbands are not true and faithful

and wives are not wise

and children don't know

just what to do

but try their best

all the same

close your eyes

take a deep breath

and dismiss the illusion

that things can't be better

and drive the cobwebs away

and refuse to see yourself as the fly

caught in a spider's web

and spread your wings and escape!

You are the eagle

fly high

and all the land you see will be yours.

April 6 TSL's NAPoWrimo based on the prompt When angels dance on their heads given by Dr Santosh Bakaya and other poems.

  April 6th TSL's NAPOWRIMO Prompt If angels dance on their heads given by

Santosh Bakaya

If angels danced on their heads

Would they be wearing skirts or smocks

Or tunics or white or silver robes

Or golden ones or nothing much?

Would those tumble to their heads

Revealing their private parts

Which they may or may not have

Do angels darn, wear underwear?

And if they dance on 'their' heads

Whose heads would these be?

On a pin or on the heads

Of some unsuspecting folks

Or on the heads unspoken of

That grow in size when blood goes there?

That would be a raunchy feat!

 Inspired by Marshall G. Kent Sr.

2nd poem on Santosh Bakaya's prompt TSL Napowrimo 2021

For an angel to dance on its/his/her head

It has to put away its lyre and harp

It has to unpin or tear off (ouch!) its wings

And fold them away or store them away

carefully in a closet or wardrobe

And pretend it is not all feet

When it comes dancing on its head

But the joy, unknown

of Seeing things upside down

brings its smile on , and melts all its frown

and heavenly ditties escape from its lips

So red, so cherry, so hep and hip

You want to kiss it

Wherever you go there is a hierarchy

I will never be top dog

So let me at least be

The one who pulls the rug out

From under everyone's feet

Today's message:

(Thinking of Pet Shop Boys' song It's a Sin)

A shadow always falls across the page.

The shadow of guilt he should not have

or she

of a Christian who was not discipled well

by those who were not born again

who is made to feel he or she did

sins of commission

he or she had not done

or left out things he did not need to do anyway

sins of omission

Guilt unneeded which he or she becomes set free from

only when he finally meets his real Maker, Lord and Saviour

if he or she is lucky, if not; then woe betide

those who made him or her feel guilty

as they are Pharisees who burden human beings

and deserve to be thrown with stones tied to their necks

into the nearest ocean

for becoming stumbling blocks to such children on their way to heaven

who would otherwise be happy, free, and not guilt-ridden

To bring poets out from under their beds

Who say angels dance on their heads

Write a raunchy poem

That's the way to sock 'em

Then out they come, looking like/well 'fed's

April 5 TSL's NAPOWRIMO Picture prompt given by Reena R

 

April 5 Picture Prompt TSL's NAPOWRIMO

Far away the building nestles

It is a school where young minds go.

I sit here brassy, bronzed and brazen.

I have blue-green claavu on my dress.

I am symbol. I am mascot.

I am dwarapalakan.

My seat is the whole wide world

Globe as chair and in my hand

Is the world as text or book

In my hand Holmes' clue-finder

I have been sitting here for ages

I may sit here many more

What I read is blank pages

What I see through the lens is convex and complex

Enlarged by any who stands behind

My message is about freedom

Though they've fixed me here in one place

Learning makes one travel the earth

Not to be cooped up in a building

And even the poor can journey forth

By the magic of the letters

Wander everywhere far and wide

Dreams can be magnified

And the globe can be your throne

I am in a uniform

I am but a little child

I am of an indiscriminate race

But to read and be literate

And to see things clearly

Is a great power, we do see

A little knowledge can go a long while

Kings and rich men fear learning

Knowledge is power and capital

Come, students of the world,

Whatever your gender or race

Religion, caste or creed

Recognize your potential

Know that to mastery age is just a number

At a young age, you can learn more than others

Your mind is keener, your eyesight shaper

And the whole expanse of the universe or earth

At your feet lies and awaits. Your grasp

Is in it, and who said that

To achieve something

That lasts forever

One must become aged first?

April 4 TSL's NAPOWRIMO THE LAZY MUSIC IS STILL

 April 4 TSL's NAPOWRIMO Prompt given by

Satbir Chadha

"The Lazy Music is Still"

A Purely Mystic Poem

When Being spoke to Nothingness

Explosion of white heat

When the universe began to pulse, unfold, and expand

The Big Bang beat and the galaxies twirled

The lazy music went still

When something came from nothing

When chaos yielded to order

When the simple evolved into the complex

When matter brought forth energy and life

The lazy music was still

When the stars threw down their spears

When tyrannosaurus fought pterodactyl

When King Kong faced off with Godzilla

When the comet hit the earth and they all perished

The lazy music was still

Consider behemoth eating grass

Consider leviathan and take heed

Consider the unicorn

Consider the dragon, or the snake who used to talk

The lazy music of all of them was stilled

When the waters of the flood rose and covered the earth

When the people who survived worshipped the sun

When life began again to multiply

When the wild ox and the sea serpent were slain

The lazy music was still

When time zeroed in on the cross, death and grave

When the stone was rolled back and the Man arose again

When the centre of the earth was the centre of history

When the calendar was split like the curtain of the temple

The lazy music was still

When the woman fell in love with the man

When she forgave him fully the way Blake has said

When they made love and it was like nothing on earth

Nothing before and heaven and earth became one

The lazy music was still

When God is Father and the Jerusalem from above is Mother

When the Son is shining and the Bride is waiting

Waiting to enter the bridal chamber

When the children born of that communion

Are the children who are the new race, the future

The lazy music is still

When this is read and it is not understood

When this is sung and it is not heard

When there is a new earth and paradise

When every tear is wiped and every tongue confesses

And every knee bows at the name I leave unsaid

The lazy music is done or undone. Finally.

The lazy music is moving or still.

April 3 TSL NAPOWRIMO A haibun

 Today's prompt in TSL's NAPOWRIMO given by

Gauri Dixit

is "Monsters under the bed" to be written as a haibun

Day 3 April 3

I close the monitor at night. When I wake up in the morning, the white lights light up as if smiling. As if in. Greeting. Under each silver key. The dot-like black ants come out, from the circuitry inside. Why are you in there?! I ask. I am amazed by their answer. We thought it is someone's bed, and the crumbs of food we take in for our parties under it makes our nights a pleasant revelry with these artificial lights to make it bright as day like the moon and the stars do it for you. Monsters, I think! Just not under my bed, but my keyboard!

Miniscule black ants

Come out from asdf

Go into lk

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