villanelle: "Code blue"

"Code blue" they said three times   but Yama's hand
moved every piece into its lethal place
the chessboard shows what destiny has planned

we move through nights and days by whose command?
we seek to glimpse what ever-distant face?
"Code blue" they said three times   but Yama's hand

is suave and stealthy   let me take my stand
by loving you   though your game's named "erase"
the chessboard shows what destiny has planned

I came back from points East both broke and tanned
around the globe by winds of fortune chased
"Code blue" they said three times   but Yama's hand

is sure and steady   we're familied and clanned
we're civilized with lavender and lace
withal the chessboard shows what fate has planned

New York and California your life's spanned
you had to leave   but why this sudden haste?
"Code blue" they said three times   by Yama's hand
the chessboard shows what destiny has planned

for my mother, Betty Jane Israel (April 2, 1927 - October 23, 2009) in memoriam

new land, new look

. . . the "new land" being California (my place of origin in fact, but I'd been living in Asia [India & China] for the past two and a half years).

Thanks to young Gavin for snapping the photo (not to mention to Gavin's mom, Shireen for wisking me all around Walnut Creek on a whirlwind shopping (hair&beard-cutting / self-presentation-retooling) excursion. Now (in Los Angeles) I commence a job search -- working again in America being a satisfactory Plan B (the India work visa [application long pending] looking now unsure-at-best).

Semi-surprisingly, I'm quite enjoying being back in my old homeland.

At the Davenport residence, I played a few notes on the piano and a few touches of raag Bhairo on my sarangi, before being further wisked away to the airport . . . with my parents awaiting me in LA.

shi: At the Wild Waves Guest House

1

At the Wild Waves Guest House
              there are thatch-and-bamboo huts
Jai Ram! says the man from Khazakstan
                          he pours hot adarak chai
with raaga Todi   greet the morning
                                lingering on the notes
to transport you to Matrimandir
                            fetch a bicycle nearby
walk on sands the sea has pulverized
              breath the sea-breeze sans a sigh
a sunlit crystal awaits your gaze
                    be done with whys-and-whats
perhaps it's time to start a new painting?
                                  take a week and try
at the Wild Waves Guest House
              there are thatch-and-bamboo huts

2

Beneath Matrimandir   water gently flows
one sits a silent hour   in the inner chamber

how rare is the mind that its own nature knows
evanescent thoughts arising   without number

taut muscles   with due training   become limber
hid heart   albeit benighted   stirs and glows

amid torrid day crows cawing   harsh and somber
beneath Matrimandir   water gently flows

3

The restless ocean churns   day after day
the intrigue continues on   without conclusion

has the universe   so many things to say?
every utterance   embodies sheer illusion

the gestalt of our existence   is confusion
as vast as the oceanic Bengal Bay

if profound or vapid   thoughts form in profusion
the restless ocean churns   day after day


poem 1: Thursday, June 4
poem 2: Friday, June 5
poem 3: Friday, June 12

This sequence of 3 poems is itself a third such sequence -- the first being At Shridhar Shrigudda, and the second being At Tiruvannamalai. These sequences (may be said to) narrate a journey south -- from Bangalore (Sridhar Srigudda) to Tiruvannamalai to Auroville (Wild Waves Guest House).

villanelle: "At the brink of dawn"

At the brink of dawn   one hears the peacocks cry
there are vehicles on the highway   at any hour
is it time to amble the circle   of Annamalai?

in the depth of night   you brew Nilgiris chai
and intone the saptak   watering music's flower
at the brink of dawn   one hears the peacocks cry

the observer remains unobserved   maybe he's shy
those who seek the source find sweet   what else were sour
is it time to amble the circle   of Annamalai?

in the heat of day   the brain is apt to fry
amid twilight cool   the limbs recall their power
at the brink of dawn   one hears the peacocks cry

life is vanishing   but it's impolite to sigh
you've a chance yet   to ascend the lonliest tower
is it time to amble the circle   of Annamalai?

supple fronds of palmtrees wave   in a pale blue sky
midnight sweat is washed away   with morning's shower
at the brink of dawn   one hears the peacocks cry
is it time to amble the circle   of Annamalai?


Notes
line 1: Peacocks freely wander around the living-quarters area of the tree-shaded grounds at Ramanashramam (Ramana Ashram). I hadn't been aware of this creature's arresting dawn cry, till spending a few days at this charming ashram (the poem was written May 27th. In the instance, I happened to make the giri pradakshina in afternoon-evening rather than in at dawn.)
line 3: Annamalai: one name for the small sacred mountain also known as Arunachala -- the life-long abode of Ramana Maharshi, and having a long, interesting spiritual history. (Surrounding the mountain is the town of Tiruvannamalai.) The mountain itself is regarded as a manifestation or embodiment of Lord Siva.
"to amble the circle": giri pradakshina, circumambulation of the mountain, is an established custom and practice for pilgrims visiting Arunachala.
line 4: Nilgiris chai -- tea grown in the Nilgiris district of Tamil Nadu, South India (in the instance, a potent, powdered green tea packaged by an Auroville outfit).
line 5: the saptak (Hindi): notes of the musical scale; a saptak is an octave.

shi: At Tiruvannamalai

1

At Tiruvannamalai   each day's distinct
while what remains the same   remains the same

the ancient mountain seems   but freshly inked
the one who's scrawled it plays   a gracious game

the formless hides   in every form and name
causation's chain   if infinitely linked

pure destiny   ignites the mystic flame
at Tiruvannamalai   each day's distinct


2

All things the eye beholds   are a play of paint
so skillfully shines the art   they appear quite real

whatever seemingly is   peradventure ain't
the Self behind   these objects well conceal

you're royally hoodwinked! how does it make you feel?
the mural upon mind's wall   so vast and quaint

loses   with vairāgya   its dark appeal
all things the eye beholds   are a play of paint


3

O let me stay in the Ashram   some days longer
it takes time to grow tomatoes   or glimpse God

the force that's elsewhere dim   seems here a bit stronger
one even observes the universe   grow odd

in a way that's hard to pin down   I've not trod
around the mountain yet   while here I linger

my brooding mind   reveals itself as broad
O let me stay in the Ashram   some days longer



============



[Written at Sri Ramanashramam (Ramana Ashram), -- poem 1: May 25 (after a day distinguished by a first walk up and over the mountain, Arunachala); poems 2 & 3: May 27.]

Initially, I discovered this particular form (which I've dubbed the "boomerang poem") in Chinese poems of recent dynasties (I'm doubtful the form existed as early as the Tang; perhaps it appeared in the Ming -- but this is sketchy speculation, my scholarship being inadequate). Only a few such poems have seen translation, far as I'm aware (I believe I recall one or two in the anthology Sunflower Splendor). In any event, I've enjoyed playing with this variant of shi-in-English now and again.

note to poem 2:
vairāgya (Skt. [from vai meaning "to dry, be dried" + rāga meaning "color, passion, feeling, emotion, interest"]): dispassion / detachment / renunciation

notes to poem 3:
line 2: this line paraphrases (or anyway recalls) a passage from Francis Brabazon's Stay with God (1958), vide: it takes time . . . tomatoes

lines 5-6: circumambulating the mountain (giri pradakshina) -- some 14 kilometers -- is a principal practice for pilgrims to Arunachala.

Poem 3 could (hypothetically) have been presented as a literal (rather than merely literary-rhetorical) plea, though it wasn't so employed in the instance. But (on asking for some additional time) Ashram authorities did kindly grant me one day more.