For the sake of Vizag's beaches -- Chief Seattle's speech

After witnessing first-hand (yet again) how Vizag's beaches are getting filthier, shittier, and scarier (from an environment / ecology perspective), after witnessing countless empty Beer, Whiskey and other liquor bottles, polythenes and plastic glasses (a large number of them unused and un-crushed), after spotting fleas and bloated, rotting, very-dead fish on the stretches that are the nesting sites for Olive Ridleys (and ironically enough, barely 100 kms from Srikurmam where Lord Vishnu's tortoise / turtle avatara is worshipped in an amazingly splendourous, ages-old temple), after witnessing the sea turn (and stay) red where a stream / rivulet flowing down from one of "Wounded in red cuts..." Vizag's Hills meets it, I give you Chief Seattle's speech. Though I am not too hopeful that humanity will learn to be less greedy, less consumerist, less wasteful...I hope some of the nature loving people who walk Vizag's beaches more occasionally than visiting me, will see a blotted, rotting very dead fish and realise "...whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are connected."

"I do not know. Our ways are different than your ways. The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red man. There is no quiet place in the white man's cities. No place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring or the rustle of the insect's wings. The clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around the pond at night? I am a red man and do not understand. The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of a pond and the smell of the wind itself, cleaned by a midday rain, or scented with pinon pine.

The air is precious to the red man for all things share the same breath, the beast, the tree, the man, they all share the same breath. The white man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days he is numb to the stench. But if we sell you our land, you must remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.

The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also receives his last sigh. And if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart and sacred as a place where even the white man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow's flowers.

So we will consider your offer to buy our land. If we decide to accept, I will make one condition - the white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers.

I am a savage and do not understand any other way. I have seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie, left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a savage and do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be made more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive.

What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of the spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are connected."

Read the whole speech here, there is another version here and by the way the speeches (or rather these translations) are not exactly "verified to be true" or backed by any "epigraphical evidence" and in fact supposed to be "fiction". But sadly there is nothing fictional about how the beaches (and hills) of Vizag are getting raped. And looks like no one is really bothered since all this is "development" or whatever the fuck it is called.

Buy Moving On @ Flipkart

Blame it on me (and the summer, the winter, the rains, photography and this and that) but I have taken a long time to make Moving On available on Flipkart. But anyway, that is also done and you can now buy Moving On @ Flipkart too.

I know there is a bit of notoriety involved with a book being flagged as "Out of Stock" and there are a number of "first books" of poets that I cannot find anywhere but my book is very much in stock. So go ahead and order away and enjoy the hassle-free Flipkart experience!

Signed copies of Moving On available at Evening Hour

Blame it on me (and the heat) but I have forgotten to get the word out about this here. Yes, the title of the blogpost says it all, the good people at Evening Hour are holding stock of a few signed copies of Moving On. Order it here or call up 040-65873003 for more details.

Shipping is free anywhere in India.

This blog and that book

Not that surprisingly -- considering that I am not that active with comments and feedback on the "blogosphere" at large and as such probably haven't encouraged any fellow bloggers to leave comments here, I have absolutely no idea of who lands up here on this blog or why / how.

Call me irreverent or plain politically incorrect but I have a sneaky feeling that many of those who land up here are prospective Father-In-Laws or employers. And I guess "readers" of both these categories either can't make head or tail out of me (which is something I cannot either, most of the time) or get scandalized by the number of times the word "Beer" occurs on this blog, or by the labels and the categories, or whatever and beat a hasty retreat :-)

With due respects to all such readers, what to do I am like this only. And not to worry, I am as middle of the path and stodgily boring as most people my age having to "earn a living", apart from those times when I am indulging in one of my escapades -- road trips, close encounters with nature or pursuits of other things poetic.

Which brings me to the basic reason behind this blogpost. To throw some light on this blog itself. I had started this blog around 2 years back as a precursor to bringing out my book and most of my poems (those written "here and there" across the years and those "written" barely minutes ago) were published here first. To an audience of one. Many of those poems have not been presented in Moving On, for a variety of reasons most of which have forgotten :-)

After the decision to bring out the book happened, this blog hasn't really reflected my muse and pursuits poetic and most of the blogposts normally meander and wander along on topics related to "this and that". Or maybe they do and its just that when I see this blog with a critical eye, I forget to realize that blogs have a life of their own too. And this has grown as it has fancied, taking me along for the ride :-)

And that brings me to my book, "Moving On" which is surprisingly moving on at a fair clip (considering it is poetry and considering that I have done almost nothing to promote it) and also helped me connect with a number of like-minded poetry lovers, with people who have taken the pains to write in with encouraging words.

Come December it will be two years since I brought out Moving On and though I will never know how much the book has suffered due to my inability / disinterest in promoting it, I still feel a kick about bringing it -- a true-blue honest "coming out of the closet" book of poetry -- out.

And somehow (sitting at a cyber cafe at Bhubaneswar after meeting Sri Jayanta Mahapatra and being gifted a copy of "The False Start" by him yesterday) it seems to be the right time to bring out my second book. After all, the idea was to hit top speed with the first book and then keep moving on!

Call For Research Papers On Portrayal of Unheard Voices in Indian Women’s Literature in English

Posting this on behalf of Dr. Sheeba Rakesh and Pankh, this is a Call For Research Papers On Portrayal of Unheard Voices in Indian Women’s Literature in English. There are no contribution/ subscription fees, papers will be accepted and published free of cost and only on basis of merit. Each contributor will get a free complimentary copy from the publisher. The proposed volume will be published with an ISBN (International Standard Book Number) by a renowned publisher and Dr. Arvind Nawale will be the Guest Editor.

Thematic Focus of the Volume:

Existence, Existentialism, Identity, Resistance, Power—these have been some of the raging issues in contemporary women’s fiction and writing. From the established canons of Speech we have come to accept the “Genotext” and Luce Irigaray’s “Delirium”. Is Voice always necessarily Phallic? Must she always speak like a Man to be heard? If not, what are ‘her’ ways of expression? Do silences have their importance or, is the silent subject always marginalised? Do women’s voices clash?(Mothers/Daughters or female hierarchy at workplace) Are Gender relations undergoing a change through these voices? The Social castration of individual women’s liberty has been a mode across cultures to establish the “right” kind of behaviour. How have the women writers broken the idealised stereotypes in society and helped the reinvention of the male-gaze? How unconventional have they been towards the promotion and cultural construction of women’s subjectivities, if at all? Are we are trying close to achieving what Cixous called the “Realm of the Gift”? the chora that accommodates the “other bisexuality”? Has the clash been rather loud in terms of the confrontation of the traditional concept of “Stree-Dharma” and the sexual economy of the New woman?
....With the analysis of the French feminist theory and relevant Indian observations in the background, we solicit a wide range of research papers that critically analyse the expression/ reinvention of the Female Voice and Sexuality (including concepts of beauty) in Indo-Anglian Women’s writings. We would love to explore articles on themes such as existence, existentialism, identity, resistance, power-play, gender relations, role of women as lovers, wives, concubines, objects, ideals, mothers, women’s subjectivity etc. However, you may also send your papers on any other important issues as reflected in the works by Indian English Women Writers which in your view, should make a significant contribution towards changing mindsets.

Editing requirements:
•Paper size: A4, Font & size: Times New Roman 12, Spacing: Single line, Margin of 1 inch on all four sides.
•Title of the paper: bold, centered (Capitalize each word).
•Text of the paper: justified.
•References: Please follow MLA style (Only Author-Date or Number System) strictly. Don’t use Foot Notes.
•In the body of the book- Titles of books: Italics. Titles of articles from journals and books: “quoted”.
•Articles should be submitted as MS Word 2003-2007attachments only.
•The paper should not usually exceed 11 pages maximum, 5 pages minimum in single spacing.
•Each paper must be accompanied by i) A declaration that it is an original work and has not been published anywhere else or send for publication ii) Abstract of the paper (100-200 words) and iii) A short bio-note of the contributor(s) indicating name, institutional affiliation, brief career history, postal address, mobile number and e-mail, in a single attachment. Please attach these details in a single MS-WORD file, after the paper has already been attached.
•The papers submitted should evince serious academic work contributing new knowledge or innovative critical perspectives on the subject explored.


Mode of Submission:
Each contributor is advised to send full paper with brief bio-note, declaration and abstract as a single MS-Word email attachments to email addresses:
sheebarakesh2066@gmail.com or pankh.wingstowomen@gmail.com latest by 30th May, 2011.

Selection Procedure:
All submissions will be sent for blind peer reviewing. Final selection will be made only if the papers are recommended for publication by the reviewers. The details of the selection of your paper will be informed to you telephonically or on your email. The editors have the right to make necessary editing of selected papers for the sake of conceptual clarity and formatting. Non-selected papers will not be sent back to the contributor in any form. So, all contributors are advised to keep a copy of their submission with them. Each contributor will get a free complimentary copy from publisher.

Plagiarism Alert:
Contributors are advised to adhere to strict academic ethics with respect to acknowledgment of original ideas from others. The editors will not be responsible for any such lapse of the contributor. All submissions should be original and must be accompanied by a declaration that it is an original work and has not been published anywhere else. In case of such lapses, if any, neither the editor, nor the publisher will be responsible for the same.

Editor
Dr. Sheeba Rakesh
Faculty,
Department of English,
Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan Girls' Degree College,
Lucknow.
Chairperson:
Pankh – “Wings for Women”(NGO)
sheebarakesh2066@gmail.com
pankh.wingstowomen@gmail.com

A train to Vizag (and some other sweeping memories)

For two days now, I have been at Vizag, arriving here yet again by train -- for a day of remembrance and prayers in the memory of my paternal Grandmother. This was again another journey reminiscent of "Trains In The Night" -- though I slept soundly (it helped that I didn't have to traipse up and down the train looking for a relatively clean loo, to lock myself in and light up a smoke), and another journey that has again brought me to a place that I have fond memories of -- I was born here and my vacations in my school-going days used to be here blessed by my paternal and maternal Grandmothers.

I have always associated Vizag with humidity, (I sweat like a pig from the moment I step here) rustic poverty, (I could be mistaken about this, it's as poor or rich as any "burgeoning" city of India, nowadays) claustrophobia (as much because of the sweaty May / June nights as because of the cloying closeness of "relatives") and fabulous vistas ( thanks to what remain of the hills of Vizag and the proverbial miles and miles of its beaches).

But I have associated it the most with my paternal Grandmother, whose loss I still haven't got over. In fact, I have not visited Vizag that frequently post my Grandmother's demise. And I am here even as another loss is searingly fresh, still kind of like a trance in that a par of me still asks, "is he really gone?". To be honest, I have the mixed feeling of chill dread and guilt that one has when a contemporary exits one's life suddenly. Guilt because, there is a feeling, how can I enjoy life when it has been taken away from someone so close to me? And that chill dread, oh well...isn't it in intimation of my own mortality -- the going of one of my contemporaries?

For some peculiar reason, one of my favorite memories of spending time with him has to do with spending time outdoors -- in the golden light of winter evenings at what used to be a far more expansive Shameerpet Lake -- beer bottles in hand, both of us amused and surprised at how the lake breeze would be caught by the bottles and then whistle. And now that I am by the sea (and its persistent breeze), I look forward to sitting down with a couple of Beer bottles and looking out towards the horizons, remembering those moments near Shameerpet Lake (and other great ones that we had)...

May is incidentally the month in which he was born and this is yet another of his birthdays when I have not managed to wished him (I am horrid with dates, and can also never differentiate between A.M. and P.M.). But I hope I can make up for it day after tomorrow, and I hope he will accept my belated wishes and say cheers up there in a bar in heaven with Pink Floyd blaring away one of his favorite songs...

And I also hope (like last year) I get to see a White-bellied Sea-eagle fly in to land :-)

But then, first there is tomorrow, my grandmother's death anniversary -- a day of prayers and remembrance.

Just look up to see the magic in the trees around you

I count a Guava tree amongst the most steadfast of my childhood friends. Yes, I count it as a friend because it was always there for me and silently kept all my secrets, gave me no pain (I could climb it in my sleep and surprisingly enough, never fell from it ) and was a selflessly rewarding presence in all the days we spent at that government quarter at Rourkela. And though one enduring regret of my life is that I never could live in a tree-house, I consider myself lucky that – thanks to my friend the guava tree – a large part of my childhood years were arboreal, elevated and full of delightful treats.

I also count half a dozen mango trees and two palm trees as close friends and refuge from those days. The Mango trees (remnants of what used to be an orchard) a toweringly giant source of shade for me and my friends; to fly kites from or to play marbles in; the Palm trees – a treasure trove of wonder and excitement – because of the vultures that used to roost in them and hullaballoo that used to result whenever one of their leaves used to fall, with various neighbors running through dust storms and gales or even pouring rain. To claim the leaf and get it home – for thatching the cowshed, or for use in the canopy / awning of this or that climbing vine or just to chop up and add to their stock of firewood.

I could go on and on and mention various other trees which left their distinct impression on my growing up years and with whom I was intimate – Gulmohar, Drumstick, Jackfruit, Wood Apple, Ber and so on. As also, that two of the poems (dealing with childhood and my days in Rourkela) in Moving On have trees as central characters.

I am sure this ramble (so far) has made its point. When I was a child, I used to look up and be fascinated by the magic in the trees around me. I will also openly confess that I still have a child’s sense of awe in the way I approach the natural world and that I still keep looking up (sometimes through a camera’s viewfinder) in wonder at the trees around.

But this blogpost is not about me, my rambles or nostalgia for
my childhood. It is about trees and a lovely book on 22 of
them – Just look up to see the magic in the trees around
you – by Sadhana Ramchander. With an excellent and very
heartfelt foreword by none other than Bittu Sahgal.
Just Look Up is intricately detailed, excellently designed
and painstakingly put together, a book which is a veritable
labour of love and has been long in the making.

These are 22 “common” trees found in and around Hyderabad, but I would openly admit that most of the facts presented about them in Just look up were certainly uncommon to me and as such very, very welcome gyaan.

This book is primarily for children and meant to open their eyes to the fascinating worlds of 22 trees, but (as I discovered) even nature-loving readers and outdoorsy types (like me) can learn a thing or two by reading it. Speaking of children, they should find it a fascinating read because apart from bringing alive (and storytelling) each of these 22 trees through lucid writing and colourful photographs, Sadhana also suggests “Fun stuff” and “Craft” ideas that are guaranteed to keep young readers engrossed and take them away from the TV and Google.

The book also has a calendar of magical events, a ready reckoner, bibliography and books to read, things to do pointers and presents a number of poems and quotes related to trees; poems and quotes that are thought-provoking only as poems and quotes can be; for instance on page 12 (where Sadhana acquaints us with the Rain tree) there is a footer – “Suburbia is where the developer bulldozes out the trees, then names the streets after them. (Bill Vaughn)”.

I found this quote chillingly scary and echoing with menace, having seen so many of Hyderabad’s once tree-lined roads and avenues (like Himayathnagar where Sadhana stays) turning into glitzy kaleidoscopes of concrete and steel with malls and malls sprouting everywhere like poisonous mushrooms feeding on consumerism and greed…

But then, there is hope as long as there are people like Sadhana and books like “Just look up…” Because, when we (children and adult alike) look up and see the magic in the trees, they cease to be things for us and we see them for what they are – living creatures and sources of wonder worth cherishing and protecting. Or so I would like to hope...

“Just look up to see the magic in the trees around you” is priced at a surprisingly reasonable Rs. 175, surprising when you consider how long the book has been in the making, when you consider the amazing photographs (most of them taken by Sadhana) and the uncompromising paper and print quality (standards that one would expect from someone like Sadhana, a professional editor and designer of books).

As I write this, my 11 year young nephew (currently enjoying his summer vacations) is reading and re-reading his copy of “Just look up…” and I am told that he has already “found” 5 of the 22 trees around his apartment building. As someone very interested in what my nephew learns and mindful of how his character gets moulded, I cannot thank Sadhana enough – for seeing the need for such a book and then taking the pain and bothers to bring it out.

Thank you Sadhana!

I look forward to a sequel of “Just look up…”, if for nothing else, just to recollect another friendship from my childhood, with another “common” tree.

You can buy “Just look up…” here.

Or you can get an author signed copy of the book through me (drop me a mail and we will work out the easiest way to do this). And yes, oh yes I strongly recommend it. Both for you and all the children known to you.

An edited version of this "not-exactly-a-review" was published in Teacher Plus, July 2011 edition.

Just a Monday morning status message, as normal service resumes in my mind

I have been here before. Where the road ends in that timewhirl -- inchoate and echoing the last mile's song, every instant a crossroad. I have been here before. Where the road begins again, defying definition -- tattooing a new name with every now. Journey, destination, reason-for-being, release...And, consciousness.