Politics comes from root words like “polis” from which we get “place” and “polity” which, if stretched, would be made to mean marshalling the resources of the place for the best of the populace. A related word would be policing. Political conscientizing would be about making people aware of the necessity for polity and for reducing policing to nothing.
The populace needs administrators, but the striving has to be toward equality in rights and service, maximizing freedom and bringing about the unity and oneness of mankind without in any way tampering with the necessity for power to be evenly, proportionally, distributed among the different groups of the whole, so that the difference can be maintained too. This prescription may seem idealistic, but I believe it is the only one that is worth striving for.
The document for the future, the constitution if you will, has to be a blueprint that will take into consideration different interest groups, including ones who have no voice and ones yet unborn, not to mention the minorities. The inclusion must be inscribed into the body of the politic, consciously, else cause for future violence will be sown. This may even lead to our destruction.
In a country like India, all this works out to addressing certain major concerns. Redefining democracy, for instance. Eliminating at least poverty as Marx defined it, although that is a pitifully low standard of living in today’s world. Marshalling, I repeat, our natural resources in ecologically and economically sound ways so that we come out of the dependency and debt spirals as well as the self-destructive vandalism seen in the ignorantly wanton mismanagement of Nature. Historical wrongs like caste inequality have yet to be redressed and seeds of trouble being sown for the future in the form of power-brokering with a nation like America have to be refrained from. As Gandhi once stated in other words, only a nation ready to totally forgive and forget past enemies and give up its identity and selfhood, if need be, for the higher calling of serving mankind, is actually going to be a “great” nation.
Such a nation hasn’t yet existed. In a future that will consist of humans, mutation, AI, Clones, etc. along with the poor, the dispossessed and the disabled, and the oppressed, we need fresh vision if we are to survive at all. The present awaits with bated breath for the planners of the future, wise beyond our means, to bring us those documents of change that will help our ark on its exciting pilgrimage to a cosmos of perfection.
Dr. A.V.Koshy
e premte, 15 qershor 2007
It has stopped raining now
and the last drops drip
from the drop-laden leaves
splashing into muddy puddles.
The circles disperse in confusion
flowing surfaces textured with folds
weaving the earth into a rippled fabric
rushing murmurs mud-brown.
I step outside the house, barefoot,
the soft sludge squelching between my toes.
The two dogs follow me as I walk, making my way
to the lake, streaming with rainwater.
The evening sky melts with the clouds
reflecting in the collecting water still trees.
The gushing wetness sounding the air and,
suddenly, I am six again, overjoyed
with the mud sticking to my feet
and the floating scum curving around me.
I kick the water, laughing,
the smell of earth splish-splashing in my eyes.
I become my footprint and am washed away
running dripping into pools of memory.
The soaking sunset of my youth –
I mock myself. Night falling. I should really go back.
-Saumyananda Sahi
and the last drops drip
from the drop-laden leaves
splashing into muddy puddles.
The circles disperse in confusion
flowing surfaces textured with folds
weaving the earth into a rippled fabric
rushing murmurs mud-brown.
I step outside the house, barefoot,
the soft sludge squelching between my toes.
The two dogs follow me as I walk, making my way
to the lake, streaming with rainwater.
The evening sky melts with the clouds
reflecting in the collecting water still trees.
The gushing wetness sounding the air and,
suddenly, I am six again, overjoyed
with the mud sticking to my feet
and the floating scum curving around me.
I kick the water, laughing,
the smell of earth splish-splashing in my eyes.
I become my footprint and am washed away
running dripping into pools of memory.
The soaking sunset of my youth –
I mock myself. Night falling. I should really go back.
-Saumyananda Sahi
The Fool on the Ink Sea
White petals falling
he's sitting over there.
alone.
and the eyes in his head
see the wave coming
that the world's been riding on
all along
a tsunami of his selves, waiting to
drown him.
-Amrita Mishra
he's sitting over there.
alone.
and the eyes in his head
see the wave coming
that the world's been riding on
all along
a tsunami of his selves, waiting to
drown him.
-Amrita Mishra
The Beatles Remixed
THE BEATLES
Love
Capitol, 2006
Yep, you guessed it- another teacher writes a review of an album made by some old fogies; in this case, two of them are even dead!
I have to say that I didn’t want to write a review but I spent days thinking of this and that, only to quickly discount what I’d spent days thinking about, and meanwhile, the clock was ticking down and the deadline coming closer and you know what I’m like about deadlines!!!
So, what to say about The Beatles? Everyone knows them, don’t they? I remember when I was about eleven and in some record store with my parents, flicking through the vinyl albums and gazing in awe at the pictures and a world I had never seen before. I found one album with no name and no title, just four dirty and unkempt men standing in front of some weird house (the “Hey Jude” album). I asked my mum why there was no name and title and she told me it was The Beatles and they were so famous that everyone knew who they were. I didn’t know them and I thought that odd.
That was years ago, a lifetime is flashing in front of my eyes and now to members of the band are dead (John Lennon and George Harrison) and yet they’re able to put out a new(ish) record. “How’s that possible?” I hear you say. Well, take one DJ who happens to be the son of George Martin, the legendary Beatles’ producer, and with your connections, get Michael Jackson who owns the songs to release them (no mean feat- ever wonder why no-one sings a Beatles’ tune on “American Idol”? - MJ usually won’t release the songs). Now, with your skills as a DJ, mix the fade-ins and fade-outs of various songs, reverse tracks, mix in different elements of other Beatles’ songs at crucial climaxes or even remove certain instruments from the track or move them into the foreground. At times incredible new music is created such as with the mostly unrecognizable “Glass Onion”, the mix of the vocals of “Within You, Without You” with the music of “Tomorrow Never Knows”, as well as “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite” which mixes in elements of “Nowhere Man”, “Blue Jay Way”, “I Want You (She’s so Heavy)” and “Helter Skelter”.
This modern creationism is not the only highlight though, as the impact on the listener of various songs is subtly altered and enhanced. For instance, the relaxed beat contained in the mellow introduction to “Here Comes the Sun” tranquilly ushers you into the beachside world of the song before the familiar bombastic music takes you over and we’re back in the world that we know so well. I also found the different introduction to “Octopus’s Garden” particularly effective in that it appeared to appropriately slow the tune down thus emphasizing its nursery rhyme form.
Some of it works and some of it doesn’t. I found the jazzy intro to “Lady Madonna” weird to say the least and some of the cuts are awkward and clunky as well as repetitive (mix the end of one track with the start of another), but let’s move on to the real travesty of the CD. This is the unplugged version of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”. With this track you want the guitars to weep all over you- after all, that is what the song is about- but here there is a non-electric whimper taken from the demo of “Anthology” subsumed beneath George Martin’s syrupy strings of schmaltz that are the only new instruments on the CD. “While My Guitar Gently Tinkles in the Background” would be a more appropriate song title for this abomination.
This leaves only the incredible ending to mention.
It starts with studio talk (from “Anthology”) and an alternative acoustic beginning to “A Day in the Life” that subtly and intimately allows the song’s phenomenal music to sweep its caresses all over you. This is possibly my favourite track in terms of sing-along-ability (but then there’s “Hey Jude”) and- but ‘nuff said. I’m just caught up in the moment and listening to it. Woah! A segue into “Hey Jude” (that’s two of the greatest tracks mixed together) and I’m in heaven. The “na-na-na”s thankfully appear to start earlier than the original and seem to take you away with arms outstretched for a lot longer. At three minutes most of the instruments are wiped from the track for a brief shoomy moment before a funky bass undulates its way in and slowly the rhythm builds and swells, sweeping you along and tears well up in your eyes at the beauty and emotion of it all.
Where to go? We’ve hit the heights?
No.
Follow history and rekindle what went before and as “Hey Jude” fades, the bass sample that launched Primal Scream’s career and the whole history of Acid House begins. What follows may remind a lot of people of EMF or other big beat bands (we’re talking about The Beatles, right?) as the thumping drums of Sgt. Pepper” take control. End with “All You Need is Love” and the debt to the two summers of love is acknowledged.
History becomes contemporary. For a moment.
Check out:
Moby “Play”
Beck “Mellow Gold”, “Mutations” and “Midnite Vultures”
Primal Scream “Screamadelica”
for other cross-references.
-Richard Old
Love
Capitol, 2006
Yep, you guessed it- another teacher writes a review of an album made by some old fogies; in this case, two of them are even dead!
I have to say that I didn’t want to write a review but I spent days thinking of this and that, only to quickly discount what I’d spent days thinking about, and meanwhile, the clock was ticking down and the deadline coming closer and you know what I’m like about deadlines!!!
So, what to say about The Beatles? Everyone knows them, don’t they? I remember when I was about eleven and in some record store with my parents, flicking through the vinyl albums and gazing in awe at the pictures and a world I had never seen before. I found one album with no name and no title, just four dirty and unkempt men standing in front of some weird house (the “Hey Jude” album). I asked my mum why there was no name and title and she told me it was The Beatles and they were so famous that everyone knew who they were. I didn’t know them and I thought that odd.
That was years ago, a lifetime is flashing in front of my eyes and now to members of the band are dead (John Lennon and George Harrison) and yet they’re able to put out a new(ish) record. “How’s that possible?” I hear you say. Well, take one DJ who happens to be the son of George Martin, the legendary Beatles’ producer, and with your connections, get Michael Jackson who owns the songs to release them (no mean feat- ever wonder why no-one sings a Beatles’ tune on “American Idol”? - MJ usually won’t release the songs). Now, with your skills as a DJ, mix the fade-ins and fade-outs of various songs, reverse tracks, mix in different elements of other Beatles’ songs at crucial climaxes or even remove certain instruments from the track or move them into the foreground. At times incredible new music is created such as with the mostly unrecognizable “Glass Onion”, the mix of the vocals of “Within You, Without You” with the music of “Tomorrow Never Knows”, as well as “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite” which mixes in elements of “Nowhere Man”, “Blue Jay Way”, “I Want You (She’s so Heavy)” and “Helter Skelter”.
This modern creationism is not the only highlight though, as the impact on the listener of various songs is subtly altered and enhanced. For instance, the relaxed beat contained in the mellow introduction to “Here Comes the Sun” tranquilly ushers you into the beachside world of the song before the familiar bombastic music takes you over and we’re back in the world that we know so well. I also found the different introduction to “Octopus’s Garden” particularly effective in that it appeared to appropriately slow the tune down thus emphasizing its nursery rhyme form.
Some of it works and some of it doesn’t. I found the jazzy intro to “Lady Madonna” weird to say the least and some of the cuts are awkward and clunky as well as repetitive (mix the end of one track with the start of another), but let’s move on to the real travesty of the CD. This is the unplugged version of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”. With this track you want the guitars to weep all over you- after all, that is what the song is about- but here there is a non-electric whimper taken from the demo of “Anthology” subsumed beneath George Martin’s syrupy strings of schmaltz that are the only new instruments on the CD. “While My Guitar Gently Tinkles in the Background” would be a more appropriate song title for this abomination.
This leaves only the incredible ending to mention.
It starts with studio talk (from “Anthology”) and an alternative acoustic beginning to “A Day in the Life” that subtly and intimately allows the song’s phenomenal music to sweep its caresses all over you. This is possibly my favourite track in terms of sing-along-ability (but then there’s “Hey Jude”) and- but ‘nuff said. I’m just caught up in the moment and listening to it. Woah! A segue into “Hey Jude” (that’s two of the greatest tracks mixed together) and I’m in heaven. The “na-na-na”s thankfully appear to start earlier than the original and seem to take you away with arms outstretched for a lot longer. At three minutes most of the instruments are wiped from the track for a brief shoomy moment before a funky bass undulates its way in and slowly the rhythm builds and swells, sweeping you along and tears well up in your eyes at the beauty and emotion of it all.
Where to go? We’ve hit the heights?
No.
Follow history and rekindle what went before and as “Hey Jude” fades, the bass sample that launched Primal Scream’s career and the whole history of Acid House begins. What follows may remind a lot of people of EMF or other big beat bands (we’re talking about The Beatles, right?) as the thumping drums of Sgt. Pepper” take control. End with “All You Need is Love” and the debt to the two summers of love is acknowledged.
History becomes contemporary. For a moment.
Check out:
Moby “Play”
Beck “Mellow Gold”, “Mutations” and “Midnite Vultures”
Primal Scream “Screamadelica”
for other cross-references.
-Richard Old
when we paint our masterpiece
I've got colours in my head, and all I want
is for you to sort them out. There are paintbrushes in
that corner, and I give you my mind,
a blank canvas, a stretched-out-washed-out
bit of paper, because I'm hoping you'll draw me
All the love in the world.
My watch isn't showing a time, and there isn't
a clock on the wall (I took it down
when you said we were out of time). So
I'm here now and you,
you might as well be Picasso. All we need
is a bit of world.
is for you to sort them out. There are paintbrushes in
that corner, and I give you my mind,
a blank canvas, a stretched-out-washed-out
bit of paper, because I'm hoping you'll draw me
All the love in the world.
My watch isn't showing a time, and there isn't
a clock on the wall (I took it down
when you said we were out of time). So
I'm here now and you,
you might as well be Picasso. All we need
is a bit of world.
Refills
push.
as cold, metallic, smooth, smoothes over
over what?
what brim, what foaming cup thrust into a tilted
waiting
waiting
waiting
mouth a second too late, so it cascades over the side
white foam on a white cup
champagne in a paper cup?
no it isn't.
it's your mind, didn't you know
too full
so let it spill.
form a sticky puddle on the table.
or on the air.
then snap fast for a refill.
and cold creeps up your finger
sinking
sinking
a letter imprinted under your nail
you hold it up to the light
and then
push.
and that white foam
is on the screen
that fills up your squinting eyes.
-Amrita Mishra
as cold, metallic, smooth, smoothes over
over what?
what brim, what foaming cup thrust into a tilted
waiting
waiting
waiting
mouth a second too late, so it cascades over the side
white foam on a white cup
champagne in a paper cup?
no it isn't.
it's your mind, didn't you know
too full
so let it spill.
form a sticky puddle on the table.
or on the air.
then snap fast for a refill.
and cold creeps up your finger
sinking
sinking
a letter imprinted under your nail
you hold it up to the light
and then
push.
and that white foam
is on the screen
that fills up your squinting eyes.
-Amrita Mishra
Countless Shades of Blue
Cozed in my space coated
With countless shades of blue,
Where I'm never alone with these thoughts.
Where they lie behind every painting
And smiling photos of what we were.
Each brushstroke filled with memories,
Each smile, a sad tear that slips from the eyes brimming with happiness.
And I want to be reminded,
I don't want to step out of the blue
And detach myself from this-
So why am I doing this,
Trying to use a brighter tone
When the love I have lifts me into this blue, but I'm sinking?
Why am I cleaning my stained pallet?
The boy's not washing away-
The boy won't wash away.
I'm not trying hard enough to wash him away.
The stains are splattered all over the walls
And the blue I am fighting has reached my soul, to stay there.
-Deepika Ghose
With countless shades of blue,
Where I'm never alone with these thoughts.
Where they lie behind every painting
And smiling photos of what we were.
Each brushstroke filled with memories,
Each smile, a sad tear that slips from the eyes brimming with happiness.
And I want to be reminded,
I don't want to step out of the blue
And detach myself from this-
So why am I doing this,
Trying to use a brighter tone
When the love I have lifts me into this blue, but I'm sinking?
Why am I cleaning my stained pallet?
The boy's not washing away-
The boy won't wash away.
I'm not trying hard enough to wash him away.
The stains are splattered all over the walls
And the blue I am fighting has reached my soul, to stay there.
-Deepika Ghose
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