Literature aficionados dissect my poetry

My first poetry reading session.

The ambience - 10 pm under a tree, a bonfire, the only artificial light being the streetlight some 10 metres away and of course the phones' flashlights, and the real light - an audience of 25 evolved learners of the English language at EFLU (eng n foreign languages university).

The reading - Wind and the Leaf was my most plausible choice for being the first read as it had a story, a dialogue between two elements of nature and could well be a situation between two people. Interestingly there was no applause, just a quiet pause as the poem ended. So I engaged with the audience and the answers were ambiguous. Some said that the theme of wanting to break away surfaced. No one really spoke of the intensity of the wind and leaf engagement.

Sea and the Sand, a favorite among many of my friends was next. It did not evince the same quality of 'Wow.... what romance' as it had done earlier with a non-lierature audience. In fact this literature students audience dissected it with the poetic techniques that they learn in the class. While one felt that the rhyming pattern took away from the real flow of the poem, one said that it was the 'metric' rhyming technique that appealed to him.

 One was candid enough to say that some of the verses were too good and others, stark ordinary. And another said that the line 'they have never ventured beyond certain doors' made him think of the Tsunami and that the sea actually raped the earth.

If was the third poem, and I guess it hit bull's eye with its typical question flow. Most of this 20 something crowd could identify with the strain of self-conflict that runs through the entire poem and at the end of this, a lot of them said that they felt it could be the narrative of their own lives. I questioned a person who  looked to be a little away from her surroundings, and she said she was herself going through a low point and this poem was a sort of extension and she spoke of her transition from a reticent small towner to a typical university resident.

The next 2 poems were smaller in length - Melancholy and Them vs I. My young judges felt that both passed muster and one said that she was particularly moved by the lines 'Could be love/could be a wound of the heart/ lavished and inflicted on the same spot.

I asked them if they wanted me to end or else I could read one last one. In a big boost to my poetic ego, this rather laconic audience urged me to continue. Satiation beyond sensation seemed a good bet. Non rhyming, high on the imagery and euphemism quotient and something of a higher order for this really high on literature listeners.

A set of mix reviews,  some said it flowed easily, some asked the reason for the title Satiation beyond Sensation, one said that one line 'I am breathing on the oxygen of imagination' was what stayed with her,  another said 'I am weaving a shut eye tale of distant fantasy' made him think of the fact that I was actually talking about the process of my writing a poem. One said that she found the poem to  be profound and asked if the 'I am listening to the music of the sound of stillness' was something that came with natural quickness or something that I had labored over to conjure.

 At some point of time someone asked me where I was when I wrote the poem 'If' in terms of my situation and mental state. This led to a few personal stories flowing out which were met with understanding  nods. And some real life anecdotes provided more energy to the session as the reality behind the poetic version made the words more lucid.

My take - Most poetry readings are about publicity and enhancing sales. This particular reading session had nothing to do with that.  For me it was more about moving souls with my poetry which is so much a part of my soul. The advantage that I had was that this was a crowd which relishes poetic expression. The disadvantage was that they had already had so much experience being exposed to different writing styles and genres and techniques that they were absorbing my poetry from very seasoned perspectives.

They were critical without being brutal, at times they used words to describe my poetry which is the exact essence of the writing therein, which made me feel successful in terms of having made a reader arrive at that feeling, and lastly both sides - the poet and the audience - connected on a certain level of love for words and their representation that added so much beauty and wonder to our 1hr 30mins of engagement.

Like the girl who wound up the program with the quote said - Writing is a tool that you can use your whole life, to help people, elevate them,  to make them laugh, to change their minds. You can do it for those in faraway lands, For those who haven't been born yet. Writing is a way to live forever.

For me it has been a moment of truth,  a moment of judgement, a moment of a longing coming to fruition.

Literature aficionados dissect my poetry

My first poetry reading session.

The ambience - 10 pm under a tree, a bonfire, the only artificial light being the streetlight some 10 metres away and of course the phones' flashlights, and the real light - an audience of 25 evolved learners of the English language at EFLU (eng n foreign languages university).

The reading - Wind and the Leaf was my most plausible choice for being the first read as it had a story, a dialogue between two elements of nature and could well be a situation between two people. Interestingly there was no applause, just a quiet pause as the poem ended. So I engaged with the audience and the answers were ambiguous. Some said that the theme of wanting to break away surfaced. No one really spoke of the intensity of the wind and leaf engagement.

Sea and the Sand, a favorite among many of my friends was next. It did not evince the same quality of 'Wow.... what romance' as it had done earlier with a non-lierature audience. In fact this literature students audience dissected it with the poetic techniques that they learn in the class. While one felt that the rhyming pattern took away from the real flow of the poem, one said that it was the 'metric' rhyming technique that appealed to him.

 One was candid enough to say that some of the verses were too good and others, stark ordinary. And another said that the line 'they have never ventured beyond certain doors' made him think of the Tsunami and that the sea actually raped the earth.

If was the third poem, and I guess it hit bull's eye with its typical question flow. Most of this 20 something crowd could identify with the strain of self-conflict that runs through the entire poem and at the end of this, a lot of them said that they felt it could be the narrative of their own lives. I questioned a person who  looked to be a little away from her surroundings, and she said she was herself going through a low point and this poem was a sort of extension and she spoke of her transition from a reticent small towner to a typical university resident.

The next 2 poems were smaller in length - Melancholy and Them vs I. My young judges felt that both passed muster and one said that she was particularly moved by the lines 'Could be love/could be a wound of the heart/ lavished and inflicted on the same spot.

I asked them if they wanted me to end or else I could read one last one. In a big boost to my poetic ego, this rather laconic audience urged me to continue. Satiation beyond sensation seemed a good bet. Non rhyming, high on the imagery and euphemism quotient and something of a higher order for this really high on literature listeners. A set of mix reviews,  some said it flowed easily, some asked the reason for the title Satiation beyond Sensation, one said that one line 'I am breathing on the oxygen of imagination' was what stayed with her,  another said 'I am weaving a shut eye tale of distant fantasy' made him think of the fact that I was actually talking about the process of my writing a poem. One said that she found the poem to  be profound and asked if the 'I am listening to the music of the sound of stillness' was something that came with natural quickness or something that I had labored over to conjure.

 At some point of time someone asked me where I was when I wrote the poem 'If' in terms of my situation and mental state. This led to a few personal stories flowing out which were met with understanding  nods. And some real life anecdotes provided more energy to the session as the reality behind the poetic version made the words more lucid.

My take - Most poetry readings are about publicity and enhancing sales. This particular reading session had nothing to do with that.  For me it was more about moving souls with my poetry which is so much a part of my soul. The advantage that I had was that this was a crowd which relishes poetic expression. The disadvantage was that they had already had so much experience being exposed to different writing styles and genres and techniques that they were absorbing my poetry from very seasoned perspectives.

They were critical without being brutal, at times they used words to describe my poetry which is the exact essence of the writing therein, which made me feel successful in terms of having made a reader arrive at that feeling, and lastly both sides - the poet and the audience - connected on a certain level of love for words and their representation that added so much beauty and wonder to our 1hr 30mins of engagement.

Like the girl who wound up the program with the quote said - Writing is a tool that you can use your whole life, to help people, elevate them,  to make them laugh, to change their minds. You can do it for those in faraway lands, For those who haven't been born yet. Writing is a way to live forever.

For me it has been a moment of truth,  a moment of judgement, a moment of a longing coming to fruition.

How NDA converted me to a new faith

There are ‘institutes’ and there are ‘institutions’. There are ‘corridors’ and there are ‘pathways to glory’. There are ‘batches’ and there are ‘courses’. There are ‘alma maters’ and there is ‘THE NDA’. I made a journey of converting my beliefs last weekend. This ‘journey’ actually requires a more powerful, weightier, impactful description – it was a peregrination. 

For the longest time I had been the most acerbic critic of whatever I found mindless in the Forces and wondered what was it that makes my husband so deeply passionate and motivated about what he does in the army. What is it that holds his belief intact that THIS is what he is meant to do and there is no better place than THIS for him to live his life, live his dream? Why is his profession his raison d’etre, his sense of identity and pride?

The journey to NDA (my husband’s course’s silver jubilee of having passed out of the Academy) answered these questions and even as an outsider I realized the umbilical cord that still binds the individual to a place where he came to as a boy and left as a man.

BAND OF BROTHERS

At the 2-day event, even as we drank and danced and laughed, what stood out in gleaming prominence was the bond among the band of brothers. Stories flowed, nostalgia hung over like the smell of wet earth after the showers, excitement among 45-year olds seemed to belong to 17-year olds and wives and children hung on with wonder and fascination at the extravaganza of emotions that kept going in a loop over and over. 

The Cycle up position

THE FURNACE There was the bicycle and the NDA furnace – a manhole surface blazing in summer heat, on which the cadet would be asked to put his hands as a punishment. How being punished for finishing food late was acceptable over eating less in a limited period of time and how ‘sugarcane stealing’ and hiding 3 kg of jalebis and 8 milk

packets within the dungarees was easy until the ‘ustad’ caught you and asked you to get rolling. And then the benign ustad who would let you go, once you told him why you wouldn’t get rolling because of the jalebis and milk. How appetites were that of famished leopards and how the lowly 2^nd and 3^rd termers got even by sucking the gulaab jaamuns (on their way from the kitchen to the Mess) and putting them back for those in the higher pecking order.  And gulaab jamuns, by the way, were only for the higher species – the 5^th n 6^th termers. 

THE ROLL UP STAIRS

SMOKING JONES

                                                      

There was the tearoom and the smoking hideout, and the iconic wooden stairs which were never climbed up but 'rolled up'. And the hierarchy was clearly marked even in the 'pissing' department. The urinal in the

THE CENTRE PRIVILEGE

centre was only for the GODS - the 6th termers of course. As backslapping and embraces and loud shouts were exchanged, it was evident that there is bonding and there is friendship and there is camaraderie. But like I said earlier, just like there are institutes and there are institutions, there are ‘friends’ and there are ‘coursemates’. What gives these guys a higher pedestal is what they have been willing to do for the other guy who runs, sweats, does ‘ragdha’ and bears the torturous sadism of what the intrinsic character of training is all about. The training is about subjecting iron to flames to get steel. And so when 2 guys are seen from a distance breaking some rule, but only one is recognized and called for punishment, he refuses to give away the other’s name even if that means that he will have to go for 2 Singhadhs (this is a run up a steep climb to the Singadh fort in full rig weighing 22 kg. You start at 6 am and a drill ustaad is waiting on the top with a token which is evidence of your having 'peaked' and then you come down by 12.30pm). Now that is when I put ‘coursemate’ notches above ‘friend’. And I bow in all humility to what the coursemate spirit actually means, and what it manifests itself as, even years after having left your training ground.

Even though honour, pride, patriotism and glory remain intangibles, I felt them as real sensations as I heard my husband and his squadron types recall their NDA Prayer. If simply, on hearing it once, as an audience I felt this level of pride flow through me, I can only imagine that the sentiment runs as blood in the veins of the guys who repeat it day after day for 3 years as their minds and bodies undergo a series of physical and mental extremities which is like an inoculation for any kind of onslaught they may face in their future. And so when a man with his comrades shouts his lungs saying the following prayer, my belief is, that this becomes his belief for life.

O God, help us to keep ourselves physically strong,

mentally awake and morally straight,

that in doing our duty to Thee and our country

we may keep the honour of the Services untarnished.

     Strengthen us to guard our country

from external aggression and internal disorders.

Awaken our admiration for honest dealing

and clean thinking, and guide us to choose

the harder right instead of the easier wrong.

     Kindle our hearts with fellowship

 for our comrades at arms

and with loyalty to the men we command.

 Endow us with the courage

which is born of the love of

what is noble and which knows no compromise

or retreat when truth and right are in peril.

     Grant us new opportunities of service to Thee,

to our country and to the men we lead, and ever help us to place such service before self.

ONE OF THE POSITIONS TO SAY THE PRAYER

80^th course NDA Sliver Jubilee was indeed a moment of celebration, exultation and exaltation for each of us who experienced the spirit of what the Academy envisages and how it burnishes each raw, rugged individual to step out as a flag bearer of the country’s pride and honour. And like mentioned at the start of this write-up, for me, beyond the moment of jubilation, it was a moment of epiphany. When I told my husband that I was moved to the core as I heard the NDA prayer, and he asked me how, I replied, “It made me wish I were a man (and I am a feminist by the way) and I had gone to NDA too, to feel every ounce of the camaraderie, patriotism and honour that you guys are feeling right now.” But alas not all of us are men and not every man goes to NDA to become the MAN that only NDA can churn out. Cheers to you 80^th course and a bow to you, National Defence Academy.