Sunday, April 30, 2017

Humanism Atheism etc

Now I'm angry. Really.

I hope I can articulate the reason for this state of mind.

I think I'm reasonably sane, balanced....neither an atheist nor particularly religious. Neither an intellectual nor an ignoramus.

Perhaps you could label me an agnostic or mildly spiritually inclined.

But I do not disseminate my ideas in a hurtful manner.

I leave a little room for maneuver, a little grace and dignity for people of faith.

Sometimes the things people believe test my patience.
But seriously that's so totally 'not my circus not my monkeys.'

I am a n individual. Not a cultist.

With aspirations to be first a human being, then a woman, and yes I have a few cultural- civilizational dog tags. I sprung from the Indic civilization and am a Hindu, and an Indian.

And I live with a desire to cling to those roots which I respect to a great extent. Mostly
Love them, at times revere them,  but also desire to fix the inherent problems of my belief system.

Every system has its petty flaws its weaknesses.

And I wish to tailor it to my personal need to be a good human being first.

Hinduism is loosely structured and multicentric. It's easy enough to be part of it, without being swallowed by the whole of it.

Now I need to share a jarring experience.
This so called humanist calls it a Dirty Dangerous cult . And a whole lot of other abusive epithets.

And I have a question.

Is that really the outstanding hallmark of a humanist?

Because then I don't want to be one. This kind of humanism, will,  I fear pit people against each other, and put people off humanism.

But I have some more serious issues.

Hinduism is not without its own evils/challenges.
Unlike Abrahamic religions we do not believe in one infallible Holy Book. We are not obligated to follow Manu Smriti, the Hindu codified laws like say the Sharia.

But yes... We have to anachronistic antiquated yet still in practice caste system, an evil unique to Hinduism.
Reform must occur. It is already happening an unstoppable force from within.
With education and government initiative, since Independence.
That is why we had and still have years of reservations and quotas since Independence to encourage and uplift our less fortunate ones.
With or without ulterior motives on the part of the government...But that's another story.

Responsible maneuvers are needed.

Not other religions jumping into the fray with notions of one upmanship. Calling every evil under the sun a result of casteism, and identifying Hinduism without any saving grace or distinction as a cult practicing caste based discrimination. Unequivocally identifying and then defining Hinduism as a caste system based cult and nothing else.

Wow. That's like saying that nothing else that's good and wise and positive in Hinduism matters except the eminently ridiculous Holy Cow and Varna or caste system.

Myopic deliberate evil propaganda shouldn't be dismissed, just because it's sly underhanded and an  elegantly spun calumny.

Because if not refuted, It's insidious and spreads among the vulnerable, especially our children.

I have had christian apologists claiming Hinduism Must have spread by aggressive proselytizing simply because it's an ancient wide spread religion with anchors as far as Bali, Malaysia and Indonesia.

Hear me out. Those were days of mass migratory waves annexation, conquest and intermarriage with natural assimilation of ideas and life styles.

Not an iota of proof exists that the ancient prototypical Hindus bore aggressive witness with missionary zeal to convert the local populace of any land.

And you know the adage, "Innocent Till proven guilty?"

Well these people have conveniently turned it upon it's head.

Their  "logic" goes somewhat like this.

This ancient nearly 10 thousand year old way of life spread far and wide. Therefore, it Must have been through proselytyzing.
Oh and the reasons they did not convert aggressively in historically documented times?

Must be because they were confused which caste to assign the neo convert to. :)
It's hearsay and guilt by assumption and presumption.

But what is frightening is the fanatical relentless fervour with which it is being preached.

Christian apologists are presenting fiction as facts and proceeding to back each other up not from credible and unaffiliated sources but from each others own cooked up fiction. Without a shred of proof.

An example? St Thomas and his alleged landing on Indian shores, The claim that the great Tamil hindu poet Thiruvallavur was actually a Christian poet.

Heck they've even co opted our own Hindu God/Gods...Lol.

Brahma or Prajapati is purportedly Jesus who also visited Indian shores.
Go figure.

I don't know if I care.

I don't care that Christmas was actually the date of the winter solstice. A pagan celebration of the birth of the sun.
Because Jesus was born more towards Spring.  Remember the new born Lambs et cetera?

Or that Easter is Ostara.
It's fun to celebrate it either ways. And a source of spiritual solace and community.

But seriously guys, acknowledge.
Don't plagiarize and co-opt.
Assimilate. Don't try to erase historical roots and tamper with authenticity.
You sterilize too much, and lose all that culturally enriches you.
Differences give us depth and versatility.
So don't take it away, please

Don't try to rape a religion of its own vital sense of itself, deny all that is positive about it,  and denude it of any claim to goodness.

Let's remember how witch burnings at the stake for not believing used to be a practice.

Quit trying to go to the other extreme. And burn those who hold onto beliefs identity and  pride in their roots.
When you insist on atheism you end up giving humanism a bad name.

End of the day... it's just another ism, unless you forgo all propaganda and vested interests, instead of unilaterally practicing kindness and bonhomie.

A little more joie de vivre as your raison d'être.

And a little less manipulation and hatred please.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017




Glopowrimo 30

Glopowrimo 30

Have you ever really scoured a dirty floor
Scraping out dead cockroach eggs lined up against the wall
Have you found joy
In exorcising dirt?
Have you been cleansed
Purer, closer to God
In that?

I muted the shades
Threw down the blinds
On my brain.

I cut and chopped and peeled
My thumbs stinging
From ugly
Potato peels
Onion and garlic stains.

Golden danced somnolent
Static stone butterflies
In morning breeze
Carved bigh up
on fluted columns holding
Up pretentious mansion
Beyond my homely verandah
Soothing me soft and tender
With insightful beauty's
Vividly startling ease.

Purple wooed the willowy
Jacaranda, slender
Bewitching tease,
And I hummed
In a sudden spurt of
Emetic joyous relief.

Songs crooned
Like holy balm
As I toiled and slaved
Pleasures harnessed
Upon the spine
Of hard work's well earned
Lease.

A burning anthem lit inside
Croaking blazing pain
Into binary channels
Of my bicameral brain,
Blood flooding my optic nerves
Till saline relief
Pounded down  the doors
Of doubt and disbelief.

Every single coursing tear
A caustic courageous pearl
Necrotizing impotence
Cauterizing pain
To pleasure
My unwitting human heart
Hoards such
Strange treasures.

And weary
Cinderella
Who didn't go to the ball
Bereft of coach
While the country
Pumpkin glares
Shed stone tears
At the witching hour
Into black hole basin.

Simple country bumpkin
This maiden's demon lover
The poetess in her,
Trapped,
A maryred gyre.

So Thank God there are
Dirty dishes
By the dozen
To clear.

Perhaps
Hard work a template
For the gene
To mutate and adapt
Transcripting unseemly whims
Till transcendental
The tides of fate
Move us closer to a
Serendipitous spate
Of opportunities
Born of
Amazing dreams.

I can ruminate and procrastinate
Perhaps even expiate
Like the time I smashed
Prettiest  porcelain
In an evil hapless rage
The silent plea of phone calls
I ignored
Helpless to even acknowledge
The all too human demoness,
Harboring soul gnashing umbrage.

Regrets are degrees of
Enlightenment
Hard work the median
The golden ratio
Whorls of Repetitive patterns
Harmonics that
Revive and recreate.

I can cast out my soul
On soft wintry fields
My hands busy
Washing away my umpteen
Sins
Bleeding over the silent sink
I accept betrayals
I surrender
At the brink
Of defeat.

Merged with Cristo
And Krishna
I find Christ,
Mosaic visionary seer,
I swear, hard work
Makes a prophet
Out of a liar,
With destiny l
Have a tryst.

I cannot fear
What I hold dear.

I give the Noddy plates
A gentle smear
A soupçon of soap suds
And watch the breathy bubbles
Break, nibbling away
The dirt that accumulates.

My elegant elbow grease
My sodden lashes
My heavy knees
My aching surreal spine
They are real immediate
And divine.

They open up portals
As dreams align
I'm kinder than I have
Ever been
My fate is flux
A torque in motion
When I give in.

When I
Give up
Give in
I give my all
Transcending
Four ugly walls.

Only then
Am I alive.
Dreaming
Inside the mortal coil s
Of daily toils
Life
I am revivified.

Purplish pink bougainvillea
Violent cool violet jacaranda
Grace dripping mercy on trellises
Garnering greatest focus
When tireless hands
Concentrate on
Possible locus
Cyclical circles
Of completion.

Set free our souls
Timeless Nightingales
Tracing  the eternal
Traveller,
Of both,
The universe within
And without.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Saturday, April 29, 2017

Glopowrimo 29 second prompt

Glopowrimo 29 second prompt

First line... Dew on the digital print
Last line... The colour after blood has drained.

Dew on the digital print
My soul absolved of succubus guilt
I have transferred mildewed memories
In the House of Dreams rebuilt.

The finer details go missing
The cathartic core remains
Soft shaded nuances bypassed
Spiritum vitae retained.

How I stoked your sentiments
Under the resolute rubicon sun
My sins of commission
Your sins of omissions
Like blood on  vellum runs.

A clinical digital print out
Of another imperfect  time
When the well of thought ran deep
An offset world where a lithograph print
Engraved, was a memory we'd forever keep.

Now  you do your dance
A daughter and son
Gracious by your side
I shed a drop
Of sweet requiem
And set the digital print aside.

Moving on with firm
Digital stroke
To another page
Another print
Another world
Upon queued up walls
Thus I evoke
Choice memories
Vicariously,
Impotently.

Wounds
No more
Stigmata for
Repentant soul
A war Glory
In pensive zone
The insipid sepia
After tones
Retrospective mural
Cold blooded runes
The colour after
Blood has drained.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Glopowrimo 29

Glopowrimo 29 My name/legend

Total facts known about Amrita

Mother is a tongue I spoke
Chez Moi on the back of memories broke
An invalid bed
Sunlit memoirs of heart and head
Mother is my
Treasure chest
And why this ship sails.

Father is
Both trick and treat
Lozenges and lollipops
When I was ill
Eye of life's hurricane
Centre that keeps me still.

Father is faith
Life must be bade
To do my will.

My home, thought bubbles
Of memories
Of irridescent hues
Shape shifting prismatic spheres
They sift truth from oceanic
Whitewashed blues.

My beloved
Is a love song
A prayer on paper
A Muse demanding rapier
Who sheds light with blood
Coral red upon foamy seas
Peace and acceptance
Life drunk to its very lees

I am Amrita
I am
Victim and victor,
I'm unworthy gladiator
Thrown in the arena
In the hunger games of life
Scorched by fire that cannot burn
Quenching thirst on the brink
Of devouring deluges
Drowning for deliverance.

How did I begin?

Mystery sighing softly
A whisper begging revelation.
Truth mating destiny.

How will I end?
When river has danced itself dry
Redemption at the sea shore
Shells sparkling
My oceanic lore
When all my labours of love
Have been fulfilled.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Friday, April 28, 2017

Day 28 glopowrimo

Please tell me what she did wrong
On that bright sunny December morn
Hanging out the wash on the terrace
Helping her Mom.

A medical intern
A family's pillar of support
A kid brother's pride
Backbone of a
Hard-working household
Barely middle class
Struggling for a foothold.

To success.
To better days.
That last morning
Maybe 7 am...Or 8?
Her last happy place.

I am choked up.
I am all broke up inside.
I cannot write dry eyed about
Her wild ride.

Close to midnight.
For her then
And now
For my heavy heart.

Sons of Belial
Let loose on earth
Battering her
Tearing her entrails.

The moon wails.
Gaia screamed in hell

But I have taken your
Fearless tale.
Tigress by the tail.
Since that dread
December night
You were raped
In a moving bus to hell.

I have hated since
The life of Pi.
For the life of me
I can't tell you why.

But the tiger's jaded eye
Makes me shudder
Makes my cry
Weak with fear, voided,
Loose limbed with dread.

But ...
Lovely Nirbhaya ever since
That night,
You murdered fear
With your dying breath
With your stubborn
Battle with death.

You fought for all of us
Woman who are caged.
You refused to lie down
And die.

Looked fear in the eye
And lived briefly
To teach us
Fear must die.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Dreams Die First

Because I'm an outlaw. Please pardon me, if you find my language offensive.

Dreams Die First

Salted caramel popcorn dreams
Popping up in my dream machine
Salted away
For a rainy day
In an aching childhood land
Far far away.

Two score tears or more have passed
Happy days are here at last
Time to unpack old yonder dreams
Icy sleet in the air
Readymade  rain it seems.

Raining upon the garbage dumps
Raining upon the gangrene stumps
Raining upon lost ashen dreams
Mind orgasms as the years streams

Thoughts fly away on night's superstring
Sleep  tight strung, an unwelcome thing
This horrible game of thrones
Leaves lovely bones
Life presents
Its own unraveling.

My soul sodomized again
And again
Tearing the fabric
Of my brain
Kill the dirty thoughts
Shoot the messenger first
Dreams leap
Blind with lust
Harbingers of pain.

I will try my best
I will change my luck
I will try my hardest
Life exquisitely sucks 
With such mind fucks.

Dreams die first
Is the lie you are told
They never die
But just get
Tired and old.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Shoes

Jaguar aspirations
Julian incandescence
Shod in cool
January's jitters
Leaving room for
No mercy
No errors

Pretty polka dotted
Wealth, sinuous strides
She leopard
Graceful gloating
Stages an entrance
Leaving no traces
As she slinks shimmering
Across roomful of strangers
Undaunted wild
Beautiful beyond compare.
Untameable enigma
beast without peer.

Power Play in earnest
No harness but
Svelte buckles
Leapordess
Your shoes
Are every man's fetish.

Kill me soft and sweet
in those slinky heels.
No contest,
No rain
On your parade.
Walk all over me
All over again,
Dazzling danseuse
In predatory beauty.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Monday, April 10, 2017

Earthly love

Earthly love

Earthly love wearing fetters
Constrained to orbit beloved Sol
Gaia's embrace is a prayer
The Mighty Ra blesses
With benevolence.

But should earth come closer
Should Sun draw nearer
The pyre of passion
Towering higher
Walls break down
Earth come around
Dancing one last
Spin
Around her Axis
And his pivotal orbit.

To melt down in the fiery orb
Orange red displeasure.
Her children decimated
Love's sanctuaries obliterated.
What price this edgy love
Of checks and balances
Forever and ever
Needing to maintain distance?

Abject blue and cold
Poor earth moves away
Sullenly spinning
Far far away
The ties are broken
Hurting hurtling past
Misogynous lovers
Ares glaring
Jove staring
Through giant red spotted hubris
Neptune nefarious
Sexily silent
The last Frontiers
Of Supercharged Uranus
And devious Pluto
Transversed

Where goes earth mother
In her flight of fancy?

Too cold the art
Of holding court
La solitaire

Holding hands
Was her only desire
But how can soft clay
Withstand fire?

Her tears turned to
Glaciers
Time frozen to
Eternal sorrow
Uniform darkness
Robbed hopes
Of Tomorrow

Sanity is love
That accepts boundaries
Withholding nothing
But that which preserves it.

So the lady returns
To her High station
Of Grace
She will not reach out again
To kiss Ardor's face

Content to bask
In warmth
That's tempered to caress.
So in sweetness and light
May thrive
Her children
The human race

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Friday, April 7, 2017

Dogs of War

Dogs of war
Wages of sin
Profit and loss
Don't count us in.

The numbers odd
Evens out the loss
War must be waged
Profits made
Any which way
The coin is tossed.

War must be waged
For down the ages
Wages must be paid
Balance the ledger
Of warriors-sages.

Earn then
The hard wages of sin
Count your child's tears in
This year's grim accounting.

Use them in glossy covers
Transnational headlines
Be moved to tears
Don't watch out
For the graves dug out
Under our feet.

Trenches dug-out,
Bodies lugged out,
Impromptu graves
For the men who don't
Count.
This world is
A butcher's
Tax benefit orphanage.

...
(Down Route 50 the
Story goes
Pony express
A trail one rarely chose.
Riders of the apocalypse anew
With those young men
You asked for,
In phrase glib and snide,
"Orphans preferred"
You advertised.

What about their brides?
What about their babies?
What about their souls?

Aren't you going to fill those
With bullet holes?

The wages of war
Are profits of sin
Reap the gruesome gain
At skulls Harvest time
Don't count me in.

Understand your
Decimation
Was all to a point.

The common man crushed
The heroes trussed
By laws of the land
Punitive legalities
They couldn't understand.

You're at your table
We are at your feet
Picking up the crumbs
Of our defeat.

War crimes committed
Not just by dogs of war
We let loose
But by those guns
That we funded
War mongers remitted.

Humanity forevermore
Remain unacquitted.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Anger

Anger is just
Another name for helplessness
Hunger in the heart
Hard shell intact
No worries
No problems
No comment
Won't let you
See my
Real self
For your pity
Will usher in
Judgement.

Self imposed
Exile
Anger is just a wall
We build
When hope is gone
That we can connect
Really connect
With others
That we're never alone.

Humankind
Can be very unkind.

Friendship can be
Ships that passed
Each other in the night.

Love can be
A making do.

Anger is only
A defence.
A response too.

Find courage.
Find composure.
Deflect anger
with the shield of
Compassion.

Start over.
Each time
You lose the battle.

Be your own watchtower
Guard with honour
Your progress.

Someday
Anger will diffuse
Into hot tears
That cool you.

Learn to smile
Smokily
Across that haze
Of tears.

You will be thankful
For it.
In the years
To come.

Wake up again
And again
To fresh worlds
New seasons
Under the sun.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

What's up World

Tacky kind of world
Between glossy covers
Reams of emptiness
Shallow subliminal spaces
Lock up time
At the prison.
Your neon orange jumpsuits
Are mental markers
Know how well
You embrace hell
In your cortical cages.

Beautiful dream
Swallow it
Take the blue pill
Dream as big
As the suburban villa
You build.
Park a Porsche
There's always one
To fit your budget
Your need to signal
Status quo
To style icon world.

Logos gone for a toss
The logo is all
Tacky hieroglyphics
On the wailing wall
Pictograms
For picture perfect people
Airbrushed
Photoshopped
Willing sheeple.

Copies of copies
Images of images
The highest ideal
Is Imitation.
Of Imitation.

We've done
Plato proud.

Please tell us
The lint you brushed
Off your jeans
The hair you flicked
Was all your own
Move

Dance choreographed by
Others
Dancers puppets
The spectators puppets
The government puppets
The dreamers
You guessed it
Puppets on a pill
Programmed to confuse
Yet please.

Euthanized before death
Lively anorexic wraiths.

Tacky lights
Fade out signs
This alley's blind
Black hole night.

The coffee's fried
Just right
In burnt plastic cups
Your plans tonight?
Do tell,
What else is up?

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Thursday, April 6, 2017

Apocalypse

Ghoulies ghosties zombies creep
On full moon nights
Lecherous shadows leap

A hint of foul in the breeze
So fair
The graves yawning up
Putrid rush of musty air.

Ripe rotten smells
Hang heavy on the multi verse
No running away
You're the blip on the radar
Of their intergalactic curse.

Pulsating nights
Supernova streaks
Frenzied gnashing of fangs
Chalk white
Pockmarked
The Grim Reaper
Reaps.

Innocent blood washes up
On foamy brine
Ruby splashes
Under Goth moonshine.

Sloth Feet tottering
Numb Hearts battering
Dead Souls shattering
Exposed nerves on fire.
They've lit the Deadwood
Of a Cosmic pyre.

Endless doom
No escape
Thriller night,
Forevermore,
Doppler shifting
Uncertain shapes.

Ghoulies ghosties zombies loom
Shadowing towering walls
Erasing the light of reason
In sanity's room.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017



Sanity for Raja's picture challenge

I'm tired so tired
Jaded so faded
Thinking about thought
Tears my years have wrought
My life
Has it been
Just a name
An unwelcome game
Living within
My head
Thoughts
Drumming rain strokes
Of exhaustion
Sanity dictates
Life teases us along
Till we're done
And then
We're truly dead.

Cocoon

Shelter

I seek shelter
I hunt havens
Safety in numbers
Cocooned in my
Tiny walnut brain,
I cook up false notions
Of security,
And guard my
Borders with
Feral ferocity.

I won't let that
Intruder in.

Building a Great Wall
Around collective inhibitions.
You can't cross the line
Of my dread superstition.

Steer your motion
Away from
My pretty paved road.

Unless it's the same way
We're going of course.

At the crossroads
Of life and death
Decide on
Truth or dare
Your dream
Is my ugliest nightmare.

At gunpoint
Choose my way
Or the highway
The safety catch is off

Take care
We take no hostages
Your protective amulets and ankhs
Enraged so,
This time,
We didn't load blanks.

Our Gods are inhuman cyborgs
We synthesised
With human amygdala
And kryptonite hearts
They're jealous
They're  watching
US

And how we segregate

THEM.

Dead black hole eyes
Musty  gaping maws

Eternity's corrosive corridors
Of loss and loneliness.

Humanity
Holding hands
We can
Upturn pretentious
Plinths of pomp and
Presumption.

We can shrug metallic tin gods
Off our aching shoulders.

Let's plants flowers,
And breathe bliss
Instead.

The Selfish Giant
Needed children
To blossom
his Garden.

Eden needs happiness.

Not cheap copies
copious imitative notions
Of heaven and hell.

Perfection is not the
Pre requisite.

Courage is.

Let us vow
Not to be afraid
Of each other

Or exchange our foolish
Judas Kiss.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Monday, April 3, 2017

Anushka Ramchuran

I came back to your page
To drench my loss
my heart clenched to summon your presence
by some magic again.

The only magic that lives on
Are your words,
And the worlds they give
Us to play and parade
Our fragile hearts,
With heady stores
Of secret love.

Anushka Ramchuran
The garden of your beautiful mind
Haunts me friend.

We will meet
Time and again
In moonlit meteor showers
That were your words
Now
Shooting stars
Off Cupid's bow
Forever.

Love you deeply.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Sunday, April 2, 2017

Self stopped

"Cogito ergo sum", or "I Think therefore I am", a famous quote, borrowed for the purpose of reinterpretation and self assessment.

It is a fool
Who recognizes
Enlightenment.

But doggedly steadfastly
Refuses it for herself.

A.
Sad.
Little.
Self stopped fool.

Living her
Crumbly half life.

I think.
Therefore  I am?

Too easy.
Mucho glibness methinks.

It's rather...

I think.
Therefore I must act.

And Become.
What I am.

Grrr...
Free will applies.

The merry mind
Maketh belief.

But can't believe
Its lies.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Mercy Prayers

Crepe Suzette sunlight
Wallpapered mind
Forever endures
In hurting hearts
To satisfy hunger
Creamy dreamy
Between crisp layers
Of reality
We know the
Players are our
Prayers
We keep them
mothballed
In anaesthetic comas
Safe from failure's
Daily slaughterhouse
The charnel house
Dripping cynicism.

I decided
I couldn't keep them
Anymore
My mind empowering
Such vast slippages
Of energy.

Power outage
Tonight
Outraged by
Notions
That can't stand up
To reality.

Let me sleep
In my dreams tonight.

Not dream in my sleep.

All prayers shall be
Answered.

In merciful Lethe.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017