Confrontation

Nothing to be apologetic about your feeling of restlessness and bent towards blaming for the atrocities you face. After all, it informs one about the existence of a feather hitherto unknown. But, since it gives your stomach an eerie feeling, it is required to be mollified and morphosed into something which can alleviate all the gastronomic troubles; which can turn your being into a perfumery. And who does not like the thought of turning into a living, walking perfume or the whole perfumery?

Let us confront that restlessness has become common these days. Confrontation is one apparatus life sustains on. Now, notice, I am using the word confrontation and not pugilism. If you and I were together this evening, I would have liked conversing about the same and brought to the table, the topic of poetic confrontation.

Poetic: the word at times inspire awe, at others, is not considered worthy of welcome. If you belong to this other school of thought, it is required of you to keep your prejudices quiet for the length of this column. By poetic, I mean one should strive to become an absorbent and a reflector; absorbent of circumstances and reflector of the mystery in an ordered form.  It gives one a kind of calm when upon reflection, a rainbow like beauty is conceived.

But before going further, let me inform you, this is not a lecture. This blog post is an attempt to converse and know what goes on in the mind of my reader (which can be shared by commenting).

Mind is the breeding ground. Whenever we resist our circumstances and attempt to halt their course, this breeding ground stales and stinks. Nevertheless, we do that, thinking it will bring us some magical potion. But far from magic what we do get is a lump of putrid entities. Don’t we? So you see, all of it is in keeping with contemporary techniques; with experimentation. It is therefore important to flow with and confront whatever comes our way rather than consciously attempting to halt the train provoking constipation and ultimately farts. The flow assures a route away from restlessness. Now, if one succeeds in resisting the resistance of one’s mind, one encounters stones and puddles on the way. To create a way out of them, while being with them is where the aesthetics lie. To stay and look into the eye of harsh circumstance is therefore a feat. But doing it poetically is where lies the greatest strength.

Attending to ‘all’ that goes on around us calmly, raises our understanding of life and hence helps us live fully. This is where poetry comes in. Poetry is best at taking into consideration the context and then potterising it into sublimity. This happens because by attending, we increase the perimeter of our selves. In other words, we increase the space where we usually accommodate others; circumstances. If one succeeds in aping poetry, life can actually turn from restlessness to beauty.

And all of this turns us into collective beings, more sensitive towards others, which further leads to showering of love upon us from the collection, hence reducing the route to restlessness into a non-entity.

So for the sake of love, let us confront poetically and sprinkle the beauty of our perfumery. What say?

I resolved that at thirty I would know more about poetry than any man living … that I would know what was accounted poetry everywhere, what part of poetry was ‘indestructible’, what part could not be lost by translation and – scarcely less important – what effects were obtainable in one language only and were utterly incapable of being translated.

In this search I learned more or less of nine foreign languages, I read Oriental stuff in translations, I fought every University regulation and every professor who tried to make me learn anything except this, or who bothered me with “requirements for degrees”.- Ezra Pound

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:

Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

And When I Started Thinking…

Today I was asked to analyze a poem. The exact question was, “write a critical assessment of the following poem by Seamus Heaney commenting on its title, theme, diction, imagery, rhythm and rhyme :

ath-seamus-heaney-Requiem-for-the-Croppies

I write this post in order to share what I did before going to the answer sheet and then ultimately on the answer sheet.

I took one hour to get the meaning of this poem. Please know, that I saw the text as text only, no context. And seriously, I had not the minutest idea about the context of this work. Though I knew that Seamus Heaney is from Ireland and he got the noble prize; and that because he got the noble prize he must be writing  great poetry, I had no inkling about the kind of thing he is talking about in this poem.

The notion that great poetry always talks about some universal truth came into my course of one hour thinking and may be that ruined the probability of getting even a zero out of forty marks in the test. But right now, this feeling of being dilapidated is feeding the construction of this post. So I should not feel that much sorry about myself.

I tried to use all the faculties I had to get the thesis statement for this text. I tried a bit hard (and dare that silly smile approaching your face) as I did not know the meanings of the words “Requiem” and “Croppies”.

Hence, I started that guess work which always go wrong in exams. I guessed requiem’s meaning as replenishment and since ‘croppies’ has crop in it, I hope you understand subconscious faculties which automatically without much thinking can ask you to relate it to ‘crops’. And also since first line of the poem has barley in it, it becomes much obvious for subconscious to interpret what I did. (Note: I don’t like highlighting my mistakes again and again)

After reading the poem several times, I finally reached what according to me was its literal and figurative meaning. To decipher out that I did some coding-decoding. Let me enlist here all of that.

Greatcoats = coats which are great(literal) ; human beings(figurative)

Barley = resources for humans

Full of barley = so many resources

Although we have so much barley we have no kitchen to cook it(2nd line). Although we have so many resources we cannot cook them/ ourselves through them into eternity. We have become vagabonds in order to find peace.( we moved quick and sudden in our own country) because some God or nature kept introducing some or the other problem.

Priest = some God like entity/some human form through which God works to introduce into our lives problems which though ultimately make us wise but make us peaceless.

A people, hardly marching- on the hike = increasing number of people who don’t work, who force us into things we don’t want to do, who are God’s indirect messengers introducing problems into our lives.

Stampede cattle into infantry = like God/nature force us to do things ,during disaster we forced our fellow living beings to do what they didn’t want to, in order to find solution for our problems, in order to move from impermanence to permanence.

Then retreat through hedges where cavalry must be thrown= nature created for them such situation in which they had to live in dirty places where horses should be kept or thrown; again human superiority over fellow living beings

This one is ultimate.

Vinegar Hill = a figurative place where vinegar signifies acid and hence acerbic fatal conclave took place there ( acerbic fatal conclave = where everyone is irritated by everyone)

The hillside blushed = hillside is personified here and it blushed because now the hillside/nature has found a way to show off that it actually respect humanity. Respect humanity is shown when it blushes upon the intuition of coming of new life. As ‘our broken wave‘ = dead bodies will give way for new life, the hillside blushes that now it can experience new life.

I thought scythes is some underwater creature. 😀

Terraced thousands died, shaking scythes at cannon=  people irritated by natural calamities or life’s problems who met at the hill’s terrace died which sent tremors deep down the underwater. I thought he is talking about underwater because there is scythes in the line, which according to me is some underwater plant or creature.

And in August the barley grew up out of the grave = a sarcastic remark which states that in respect(show off) for work done by mankind (which ultimately see its decimation or movement into nothingness) on the resource present in full quantity in or near our human skin coat pocket, nature multiplies life or more resource as it says: the barley grow up out of the grave.

Are you still interested in my thesis statement?

I understand the fact that any teacher who is master of poetic art might kill me for doing this but I still was interested in recording this post in order to read, laugh or wonder at it a few years from now.

Now, if those of you who don’t know about this poem find yourself interested in reading the actual meaning and analysis of this poem might also get as bonus with that reading, your gaping mouths. 😁

Actually one must read the actual meaning and analysis of this work.( All respect for Mr. Heaney)

 

 

!!

 

“Rau mein hai raksh-e-umar kahaan dekhiye thhamey
Nai haath baag par hai na pa hai rakaab mein

(Age travels at galloping pace; who knows where it will stop
We do not have the reins in our hands nor our feet in the stirrups).”

-Asadullah Khan Ghalib