The Fire

 The Fire

The jungle was getting thicker, miles and miles a stretch;

Calm and eerie, murky and green,

The sun was nowhere to be seen,

And no shelter as far as eyes can fetch.

Not an animal, not an avian;

Just owls,

Scary growls,

And someone walking towards oblivion.

Rest was craved, by limbs not head;

With mud and blood underneath,

Not another feet,

I decided to lay in grassy bed.

 

As I lay, under the leafy sky;

With a bon fire, and

Some barbwire,

A cynical thought crossed by.

What if all the miles, 

Trodden black,

Becomes a mere useless act?

No way back, no way side

Forward is the only abide.

What if the woods never end?

Only gets darker, and

Further,

With every bend.

Only then I noticed My fire burn,

Sharp and bright, 

Trembling with might,

Assuring me nothing could harm.

Little a flame, as it is;

Doesn’t care,

How big its flare,

Dances in harmony at ease.

So, I learned a valid lesson;

As way,

leads to way,

Let thy fire inside never lessen.

When at length that day views,

Bringing reward, and

Mental accord,

Be sure to recall your muse.

Biswaraj Palit.

  9-6-2020

Our Dreams

 All of us dream. Or at least have dreamt sometime in the past, of a perfect future.  A future where we secure all that we ever wanted. Like a kid at an ice cream parlor, we garnish our cups with all kinds of flavor combinations. Livelihood in this make-believe castle of ours is devoid of adversities. But, alas! life isn’t your Myfroyoland. Time exposes the subtle non-linearities in fate that delay our achievements. Our roads become increasingly twisted and undulating, making us humble and sober in the process.

In the poem, “Our Dreams”, I take you through a figurative journey by introducing a metaphorical woman who represents the ‘woman of my dreams.’ I spend some fanciful moments. Soon chaos strikes in the form of thunder, which parts us. However, life needs to and must go on. Like a seafaring vessel fighting through gutsy waves, we have to move ahead with a clear goal in mind.

The poem may be perceived as slightly pessimistic in the sense that I never actually talk about achieving ‘the’ goal. The poem may end with a very unappealing/cliched climax, but I feel that it’s our journey through life that is the most memorable. Once a goal is reached, we are momentarily contented and soon move on to the next goal. The bottom line is the fact that life weaves its own stories as we tag along. Far in the future, when the time is right, we may be living the life that is perfect for us even without realizing much.

Rudyard Kipling quite eloquently expressed similar sentiments in his celebrated poem ‘ If ’. A few favorite lines are

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;  

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;  

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;  

(Follow this link to read the full poem: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46473/if--- )

I agree with many that ' If ' is a very idealistic poem. A poem that is very difficult to emulate in real life. But even if we incorporate some of the mentioned advice if not all, we will find ourselves in a comfortable world. 

I hope you like my poem. Wishing you a gentle read!

Our Dreams

Over the terrace, against the ‘scape,

Who is she, that fix’d me in gape!

Stretched my sight, as far as I could,

What a beauty! There she stood.

Fair and slim, hair flying,

O lucky wind, and here ‘m dying.

Happy is the sun, the moon and the stars,

As their light has shown a beauty so scarce!

Turning her head, she caught my eyes,

Like the dead, my gaze was ice.

So, did the winds stop for a while?

Or was my soul numb and fragile?

A beam of smile crossed her lips,

Like a breeze bent row of pink tulips.

Wished we meet, before heavens retreat,

For without ‘tis like dying incomplete!

Soon some clouds, from nowhere came

Startled by thunder, our moments became.

Oft she ran to shelter from hail,

As my dreams were meant only for fails.

Not just me, for many of us,

Dreamt and tranced, a similar farce.

For reality is like, a sailor’s plight,

Sea whose ebbs or flows, it must fight.

Even though day promises many a sight,

Dusk sends men yearning for light.

But ships don’t bother, as long as water,

Which it can drink, but be only sober.

So, keep on sailing, mast held high

Toiling hard days, without a sigh!  

        

                                    Biswaraj Palit

21st Century Breakdown

One of my favorite poems - " Five ways to kill a man" by Edwin Brock ends in a very realistic manner. I quote the last stanza below : 

"These are, as I began, cumbersome ways

to kill a man. Simpler, direct, and much more neat

is to see that he is living somewhere in the middle 

of twentieth century, and leave him there."

Reading this poem, one embarks on a historical journey through time starting with the crucifixion of Jesus to the end of World War II. In the end, the poet dispenses with any traditional means to kill a man (or a woman or any living entity for that matter) by stating that living in the twentieth century is suffering in itself. One is exposed to mental dissatisfaction, diseases, and loads of other socio-economic problems. These are not 'cumbersome' ways in that it is not carried out by one person or a group or that its effect is instant. The entire humankind has played a role in each other's sufferings, leading to a slow, painful death. 

Edwin Brock had passed away before the start of the twenty-first century (in 1997). Nevertheless, the concluding stanza of his poem is still relevant in this century. I have tried my hand at writing a poem for the people thriving in the twenty-first century. The title of this blog has been naively borrowed from a famous song by Greenday. The title of my poem is Payback. 

Payback

Who could have told, long could one live?

Who could have thought, time had come to leave?

For a century later, with renewed vigor,

Worlds have revolted, wants us no longer.

For mankind had been a bitter germ,

With sins, worser than every turn.

Wars settled fences and nukes their might,

O’widowed wife, orphaned child and their plight!

Crimes akin wars, soul to soul,

Murders, abuse, and likes none could console.

Built both cars, swim and fly,

and many more things our thoughts defy.

So claimed the leader,” Nothing to fear,

Even if end is near,

Us shall eradicate

For science ‘twas adequate”.

Smirked in the corner, Mother Nature,

“Poor unthinking souls here,

You have done what you think enough

Let me show what methinks you deserve”

Thence came virus, all over the globe,

while some quakes started to unload.

Also, the ice, wanting to slide,

Sea was now a devil in disguise.

Bushfires unmuted for days past,

All locked with doors tightly cast.

Bays faced storms,

And fields with locust swarms.

As deaths go past unthought counts,

Hunger and cries, and tensions surmount.

The leader, whos’ plan seemed was clear,

Can now be seen, crying “Save O’lord us dear”

But He has seen, seen what may,

Only be called devils’ play.

Thus, we reap what we sow,

As all wait for wraths to forego.

                                                         Biswaraj Palit

Comment and let me know your thoughts!

Bye.

Physics poem

 The year 2020 was unique in so many ways. The whole world was busy fighting a never before seen virus outbreak. Streets were filled with ambulances and hospitals with dead bodies. Every sector, be it professional or academic, had come to a standstill. 

    Among all the chaos, my only solace was physics. I was rather enjoying the ample time available to read out-of-the-syllabi books (Feynman Lectures and MIT OCW), revisit unclear concepts, etc. One fine night, out of nowhere it struck me that I should write a poem on physics. The poem should touch upon all the great minds and their works that have shaped the world as we see it today. Thus I began:

Physics

Derived from Latin or Greek, some say

I rule the world from night to day.

Hardly a king, hardly a queen,

I was how Archimedes solved the gold thing.

All round and around the sun

Earth goes by Kepler’s cubic term

“No!” said The Church, “Its’ all flat,

Winged angels carry it on their back”.

Then came revolution, came a great law

Inverse square term became the new awe

Newton gave gravity, Coulomb gave electricity

Mustn’t forget how Hooke provided all their elasticity.

So asked Roentgen, what’s that green glow?

Later Marie and Pierre found it in Uranium, only low.

How charges behaved, which Maxwell knew,

In four compact equations easy and few.

But wheels of revolution sought to turn, 

Not of politics but scientific upturn

The atom was split, and so were the minds,

As electrons and protons were of another kind.

Planck came forward with an outrageous guess,

For blackbody radiation and something else.

None knew then, what quantization meant,

It took decades only after Schrödinger dreamt.

Parallel to these, ground was breaking,

For someone was working on speeds that were breathtaking.

Gravity was seemed quite wrong, to no one

But Einstein alone.

He gave a new theory, not much understood

Maybe after a century, someone would.

“Coming back to Hydrogen atom”, said Neils Bohr,

“Why not stationary orbits and solve Rutherford”.

Cat’s life hangs in balance with equal probabilities, claimed Erwin

“What are you getting at”? Einstein grins.

But came an equation, like nothing before,

Only a new mathematics could support it anymore

Determinism started to gather dust,

Now position will be certain at the momentum’s cost.

Quantum theory started becoming the story,

Along came many writing their own theory.

The atom went larger as they delved deeper,

Finding leptons, hadrons, bosons and all peculiar

Far in the east, a poor physicist,

Stopped in his tracks with a crazy insist.

A new kind of matter, then opened its gate,

They call it The Bose-Einstein condensate.

Fundamental forces named along,  

Gravitational, Electromagnetic, Weak and Strong.

As time went by, complexity arose,

So came Feynman, simplified in a prose.

His famous diagram was all one needed,

To realize how subatomic particles, did it

Lot about miniscule, what about outer space,

Did someone figure the relativity case?

Reached the invisible ripple and made a noise,

Coming from a black hole to LIGO’s sophisticated toys.

Followed by a greater news, only a blurry image,

Dark hole in the center, disk was orange.

So many scientists, so many stories,

I have failed to tell each of their glories.

So, forgive me all those,

Whose works I could not compose. 

Then asked a layman,” you must stop”,

Physics replied,” not until my breath drops”.

                                                                    Biswaraj Palit

9-6-2020

 

When I finished writing, I had only sent it to my then-girlfriend. I had no intentions of posting it on social media or any other platform. Delighted by the poem, she insisted that I post it on Facebook. Thus, it already exists on my FB wall long before I publish it through this blog. 

Thank you for the patient read. Hope you all like it. Let me know what you think of it in the comments.

Bye.