war – Mad Decadence

An Ode to A Photographer

Photography is a rare art

Playing with omnipresent

Light and Time

Capturing moments

That transpire magically

Just like a sudden flight of a bird

Or deep pensive prayer of a saint

Or something unsettling

Or maybe deeply political

Just like a dying child staring

At an approaching vulture

These are moments of truth

That transcends Time

A photograph rarely lies

Unless of course it is doctored

To peddle a lie

Ever since it’s invention

There have been warriors

Going to the ends and the depth

To capture beauty and horror

Their gaze becomes

The gaze of the masses

That’s the magic

They turn you

Into them

The gaze changes places

You become the onlooker

Your silence becomes complicity

Life of a photographer

Isn’t an easy one

Trudging with the gears

They make the unseen

And unknown visible

They unravel the truth

That hides in the plain sight

Leaving us to wonder

How did we allow this to happen?

Are we going to do something?

Photographs have changed

The world history

But photographers carry

The burden of Sisyphus

They must push the boulders

And the borders again and again

They must teach

The blind populace to see

And behold the truth

And not turn a blind eye

Again and again

Photographers have turned

Cosmetic over ages

They just indulge in beauty

Safety and narcissism of it

Yet there came along

A rare tall one

With a discerning eye

And deep wisdom

Who could stop the world

With one single photograph

Using simple Light and Time

To paint the undeniable Truth

An ace visual storyteller

Holding the mirror to the world

Leaving for the future

Stories that are imprinted

By light on the frames of Time

And memory forever!!

PS: In remembrance of legendary Raghu Rai who passed on to another realm today

Brain Fog

Best words and lines

And the flow of thoughts, ideas

Come to me while

I am walking or teaching

Or while doing some unrelated chores

And then they disappear

Brain fog I guess

Should I guilt trip myself

For not writing them down?

Or maybe a pardon is in order?

After all brain fog isn’t my fault

And it isn’t the brain’s fault either

We keep constantly overloading it

With information, emotions and sentiments

Evoked by hundreds of visuals

And narratives unfolding

Everywhere all at once

One moment we are infuriated

And next moment we laugh

We cry for a bit too

And then we are confused

Most of the time

I guess the brain too gives up on us

Thinking fast, thinking slow

Long term or short term

Cognition and metacognition

How much can it label and segregate?

Neurons too must be overworked

With all the firing and messaging

I try to remember that string of thoughts

Something that got completely lost

While I went on a scavenger hunt

Looking for war, elections and other news

Doomscrolling

I don’t remember knowing these words

During my growing up years

Brainfog, doomscrolling…

Oh wait…what was I planning

To write about?

Ufff I lost the string of thoughts again

Wonder how James Joyce and other

Stream of consciousness writers

Would have fared in this era?

Will there be a new genre?

A genre of brain fogged writings?

For writers who lose their

Stream of consciousness?

Prison

Democracy is imprisoned

In the name of justice

Justice is imprisoned

In the name of freedom

Freedom is imprisoned

In the name of Peace

Peace is imprisoned

In the name of War

War is shackled too

In the name of economy

Economy is prisoned too

In the name of capitalism

Capitalism is boxed too

By the markets and profits

One person’s loss is

Another one’s gain

The media is imprisoned too

In the name of propaganda

Propaganda itself is made of lies

Lies aren’t free too

They have to hide the truth

Truth is in gallows too

On non-bailable terms

Don’t ask who benefits

Everyone has lost the plot

Old money gets older

New money becomes old

Those who are poor

Remain poorer

How else will we define

The real rich?

Marginalized communities

Define the majoritarian

Who turn authoritarian

Till…till everyone loses the plot

And the script flips

Nature loves entropy

But it likes balance too…

Not everyone gets away

With it all…

Where do you stand?

Waiting Time

We will certainly wait

But for how long?

Can you hear the collective gasp?

Can you see the crimson pyres?

Sorry, there is no waiting time

In this game of death!!

How long do we wait?

For better sense to prevail

For wars to end

For children to get a chance

To live their life

How long do we wait?

For the Time that never arrives

Time of peace

Time of love

Time of kinship

How long do we wait?

For the rains

For the barren land

To become green again

For the earth to heal

How long do we need to wait?

For the stars to be visible again

To be able to breathe again

Perhaps sing again

How long do we wait?

For a day without news of abuse

A day with no school shootings

No war or no killings

No rapes or acid attacks

Just how long?

Just how long before we value

Humanity and living

How long before we value

Equality and love

We have been waiting

Far too long

Too too long

To find ourselves

To love ourselves

Ceasefire

As the whole world holds its breath

As the threat of annihilation looms large

As brave people brace themselves

For the final showdown with death itself

Bunch of men proclaim

“Ceasefire!!!”

Such an easy convenient word

Why did it take so long?

One just has to cease

And step back

No one needs to call off the war

This game is paused for the next level

After all it increases views, stocks and profits

And weapons industry sells quite well

The biggest reality show of current times

Boom!! Just after ceasefire

There was much fire elsewhere

While the negotiations were still being read

There has to be a twist in the war drama

Well, the whole bloody drama is twisted!!

No one knows who is winning or losing

I guess it doesn’t matter anymore

Let the game go on…

While the desolate moon, sun

And a bunch of astronauts

Behold the beautiful Earth

Blue and white…pristine marble

Moving in the dark empty space

Silently miles miles away

Human life does seem a miracle

Till it turns itself into a curse!!

Courage

Tonight I want to talk

About the courage

Courage of those who are

Facing imminent fatal threats

As fear looms large

No one is talking about leaving

Or fleeing the war

It has been a pattern

Among all the nations under attack

No one is leaving to make conquest easy

Tonight we need to talk about this courage

Courage of common people

Who take the batterings

Who are easy civilian targets

Yet they refuse to leave or flee

They bury their children and kin

They live in refugee camps

They return back to the rubbles

To rebuild again and again

As long as the ceasefire lasts

They stand up to

The truth and power

While every powerful nation chooses silence

They don’t leave or flee

Their ancestral land and home

Despite all indignity and threats

They keep showing up as human chains

They keep recording

And collecting evidence

In the hope that civility and peace

Will return again

And one day wars

Will become redundant

Tonight let’s talk about the courage

The courage of four astronauts

Who flew furthest from the earth

To the dark side of the moon

To watch unseen craters and an eclipse

Perhaps knowing well

Their mission will be eclipsed

By the war and fear mongering

They saw our beautiful blue planet

Knowing very well how bad the things are

Yet they speak of One Earth

Tonight let’s talk about the courage

Courage in the face of the fear and death

Tonight I don’t want to

Write the saddest or angry lines

I want to stand in solidarity with those

Who are being relentlessly attacked

If they have the courage to hope

To bear it all and fight back

And have guts to die

What we think or do is inconsequential

Their land, river and mountains

Will remember them

As a resilient civilization

I will just hope

Hoping against hope

This exemplary courage will win

It has to win against the evil

Fear is not even a choice

Fear was never a choice!!

A Fall

All it takes is a fall

To rise again

We haven’t reached

The tipping point yet

Where words

Will eventually give up

Their meanings

All languages will fail

To express the pain and gratitude

All the love will be a foregone conclusion

And death?

It is now a kids play

Their playmate doll dies

Just like their friends did

They know the rituals

They know the burials

Death seems so routine

Mourning has turned

Into a celebration

What else can we do?

Except for changing

Our perspectives

We are running out of

Perspectives and paradigms too

There are no masks

Emperors take pride

In their nakedness

That brave little boy

Has been buried

They don’t care even if

They are called out

It will take big fall

For the humanity

To rise again

We haven’t fallen

Enough yet!!

Irony

I became you

And you became them

All boundaries blurred

Between predators and preys

Every role flipped

In a role reversal

Victims turned into proud bullies

Preying upon helpless victims

Me, you, us and them

We keep changing our roles

Going in circles

Irony itself has become ironical

Like never before

I has been replaced by AI

Human by machines

Humans have turned into

Well dressed mannequins

Frozen like zombies

Doom scrolling away

Devouring themselves

Life has turned into monstrous death

In the finest of all role reversal

They feel most alive

When they kill

A movie showing severed flying head

Gets all the screens

While life affirming Space film

Finds hardly a space

Addiction to violence!

Ironically life always wins

Hiroshima and Nagasaki

Didn’t change anything

Cherry blossoms do bloom

And paper cranes are still a craze

Ironically the victim nation

Never built the bomb

It ended the cycles

Of trauma and violence

But the bully nation

That built and used it

Is back with the same flex

Ironically bullies often

Call themselves victims

What scares them?

Addicted to violence and power

They refuse to give up

Their carnal desires

While Artemis II is on its way

To the darker side of the moon

Humanity has plunged

The planet Earth

Into one of its darkest phase

How diabolical

And Ironical!

A Poem a Day

It is a good way of beginning

The ‘Cruelest Month’ of the year

A poem a day!

How else would one survive?

The daily calamities, killings

And mournings

The sense of worse times ahead

For Entropy always wins

The beautiful flower of yesterday

Is wilted, fallen and forgotten

Just realised I did see the Halley’s Comet

And then came the afterthought

I won’t ever be seeing it again!

It will come irrespective of everything

As sun beckons it every 75 years

Plants thrive on sunlight

Maybe they bloom flowers

For the Sun!!

A return gift maybe

For all the free glorious light

Plants know gratitude

While we seem to thrive

On regret, hate and revenge!

#GloPoWriMo

Joan of Arc

Though there is ample evidence

That we were the harvesters, gatherers

While men went hunting and gaming

Maybe we were cave artists too

Though there is an ample evidence

That we did the ground calculations

For ambitious space missions

Carried out fatal experiments

To figure out x rays, radioactivity and

Even the DNA structure

Though there is evidence

That most anonymous writers

Too were women

They were also those wives, sisters, sister in laws and whores

Which gave the world stupendous art

Yet women have been historically ignored

Cast aside, taken for granted

Treated as a doormat

While men ran their victory laps

As they stood on the podium

The tray bearers were the women too

There is ample overpowering evidence

That we birthed the entire humanity

Every evil soul who masquerades as saviour

Started life in a mother’s womb

The very female sex whom he ended up

Exploiting, killing and silencing

How did we end up here?

Are we truly the weaker kind?

Or just too kind? Or too conditioned?

Passing on the intergenerational trauma

And patriarchy in equal measures

No wonder we end up being hated a lot

For trading freedom for freedom

That’s the only real deal for us

Be unfree, free, unfree, free

To be or not to be

We truly can’t distinguish between choices

There isn’t any escape route

From this foul role-play

We regale it in and we ace it too!!

After all we just have to call it day

And decide not to give birth

And watch homes and government scramble

With incentives and perks

We can pull off a demographic shift

Yet these imbecile fools

Disrespect and disrobe us

Rape and kill as per their will

There seems to be no end in sight

We are still in the recognition stage

Recognising the inequality

Still debating that patriarchy

Is the ultimate design

No wonder Joan of Arc

Was called a witch and burnt at stake

Only to be venerated later

As a patron saint and saviour

This game is too old

Can we move to the next level?

We refuse to be recognised in retrospect

We dare you to practice equality

Take those baby steps

Remember we women are good at it

To teach those baby steps

Watch you falter

Give us a chance to make you

A better human or maybe at least a human!!

Photo courtesy: My son, Anuran. This was clicked at Orleans where Joan of Arc led the war to save France.