Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Day 22 - Spaces Are Psychic

An SRA building it is.
My home, a vertical slum,
as you refer it often,
in your books and the class,
a spoken word like this one,
and an eloquent TED talk.
You, the researcher, the poet
my teacher in the hood,
a corporator from here
or a business tycoon,
the narrator of my stories,
the one who refuses to live in
or is too afraid of my home.
Oh you, my saviour,
the advocate for equity,
reforms and success in my life
oh you, who at the same time
dismisses me and my life.

In your curated 
and photoshopped
view of my life
you see the violence,
the guns and the fear, 
anger at the loss 
of someone very dear,
rape, abuse and drugs.
Or go to other side,
patronise me for my grit,
my suffering and my life.
My laughter, my joy
my vocab or my dance,
is invisible to y'all, 
or exotic, to be only used 
for your brochures.

But tell me, 
have you ever felt 
that anxiety
which results,
from the gunshot 
that rang past
an apartment window?
Do you know what it feels 
to inhibit these spaces
that transcend geography
and move around in our bodies
wrapped in the shroud of emotions 
whose fibre are my varied
daily experiences?

If you haven't,
then pause your pen,
or keyboard, I assume? 
Before you can teach,
or write about me,
or make another policy
that will change my life,
as you claim, know that
our spaces are psychic. 
And you are colonising both,
my space. and my psyche.

Monday, June 5, 2017

Day 21 - Fall Or Flight?

He, the insolent one.
Flew, higher than instructed.
Defying what was told to be right.
That too, from his father,
the caring one.

Those waxed wings,
the masterpiece
- of a fine craftsman
that his father was,
freed him from the cages
of King Minos…

Those waxed wings,
Indeed, freed him
from the cages of the King,
and before they could chain him
in the doctrines of his father,
he freed himself,
and flew up in the sky,
to reach that sun.
The hot burning sun.
To do what no one did before him.
To reach where none could.
And the wax melted.
The wings dropped.
His body descended. 
Steep. Sharp. Silent.
In the deep blue sea.

What’s right?
and what’s wrong?
What if the life itself
was not valued
more than that one flight
closest to the sun?
What if, the death
as he fulfilled his dream,
or may be his ‘immature’ desire,
was not as big a loss
as not having flown highest
while he had those wings,
those waxed wings?

In your myth,
he is an ignorant looser.
In mine, a dreamer.
In your's, his fall matters,
In mine, the flight.
Whose myth is the truth,
of that fall of Icarus?

Who can decide?

- Based on the story of Icarus. The image is a painting by Charles Griffith and is sourced from fineartamerica website.

#Day21 #The100DayProject #100DaysOfProseToPoetry #Icarus #FallOfIcarus

Thursday, June 1, 2017

Day 20: Catch Me Hang Me

"City (Mumbai) fails to make it 
to India's top four, again."

"He overcame prejudice, scored 92.4%."

"High fever, no deterrent for high scorer."

"Topper Raksha Gopal scores 99.6%."

"May schools join 90% club this year."

"Every hour, one student commits suicide in India"

'Tired of her, catch me & hang me :)"

- Based on the news headlines related to exam results between 29th and 30th May, 2017.

Image Source: 

#Day20 #The100DayProject #100DaysOfProseToPoetry #Exams #BoardResults