Dial M for...

Back to poetry after a long time...a very long time! Something I penned on a turbulent flight back home...

Dial M for…

Hey there! Its been a while…I know.

You feel alone, so do I…is that so?

I hope another has not fallen for you…

For you I yearn to yield, Oh! Drifted soul.

Forgot to pay my respects, my dues

Did not count your gifts and blessings

Ingrate, cheap, debtor I am for sure.

Do I bow to you in shame, just to lure?

Do I strip to my bones and bleed dry?

Shall I choke the air, swallow the venom?

Must I dust my memories, rust in time?

Script my penance…dictate my role

Direct my moves…sing my songs

Echo my screams…fill my embrace

Will you smile to right the wrongs?

I beg to you for I am wordless

Short of fire to kill the fuse

Dwindled in reason but miss my rhyme

This is a call to you...dear Miss muse of mine!

Vasanth Kumar J

(Pic Source - http://www.actuarylit.com/?p=531)
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Lecture at Loyola!

There are times in ones life that disbelief and amusement go hand in hand...moreover, the fact that we are called to demonstrate in what we specialize...not knowing how good we actually are, is a good example! Such a thing dawned on me recently and it was one of those moments where I couldn't stop smiling whenever I thought about it...before the curtain raiser and after the curtain's fall...

A mundane day at the office was shaken by reality that hit me the hardest...dint pain though, got me laughing! All I hoped, that it wasn't a gag...and it wasn't! A call from an unknown number and I was apprehensive that it must be from a damned credit card ad or a ringer tune offering...it was none! This gentleman takes time to introduce himself and the purpose of the call and Im listening...I say just one thing in the entire call...Yes Sure! That's just 10% of the call and the agreement is made...a guest lecture on Creative Writing at Loyola College...audience...final year English literature students from both the bachelors and masters course!

A back-bencher, a rebel and an average studious guy, hated lectures...did it all! Ridiculed professors, cross talking, arguments, bunking, delayed submissions and of all the people, I had been invited as a guest speaker on Creative Writing! It was at that moment I believed in...This is Life! And it was happening...

Next was to prepare for the battle! Students, crowd, young guns, boo's, cynics, distractions et all! My mind was racing in all directions to decide on how to deal with this upcoming debut and it was then I decided to prepare it from a students perspective itself wrapped up with a story of my journey in writing! It was then I reminded of how theories and books dint actually help when I was in college...it still wasn't helping today's generation because we always wanted the real deal...and I was going to give it to them!

How do I dress up? Permission from Office? Announcement to friends and family? Photos and notes? What do I speak? Whom do I refer? blah blah...so may questions! Never knew speaking was so tough...but what the hell! I was to speak on my passion for creative writing...so why fear? That was how I overcame my fears and made my presentation ready!

D-Day...10th March 2010 and the hour nears and I'm all dressed up for the occasion and Boss is happy to give me permission! Friends and colleagues pour in their wishes and calls to wish me well and i set out on a hot summer day on my way to the college! Reach there just in time...damn traffic! I arrive at the scene and Im shown the way to the hall and boy...there was some crowd! A session was in progress and questions galore on journalism as a career...but my mind was elsewhere!

I meet my co-guest speaker...an accomplished poetess Sharanya Manivannan and shes prepared as well...cool as a cucumber! I'm huffing, puffing, racing heart beats...it was all about to come crashing down! The session introduction is done by the host and we are introduced by our profile sheets...mine obviously been beaten to death by Sharanya's profile! Well...not a good start but nevertheless...scope for improvement!

Sharanya delves into her area of writing passion and moments and Im all awed about her nitty gritty details and so was the crowd...dumbstruck, the crowd applauded her effort and fired a few questions which she dealt with panache and style...smooth as silk. Next on stage...yours truly!

And then it finally began...lights off and the monitor flashes with the title and the slides...I felt like a completely different person on stage than what I was off-stage and it worked! The alter ego funda worked and it was blockbuster! As it continued from slide to slide, it became a dialogue and a story telling session and I could certainly see an engrossed audience...and that pumped me even more! The entire lecture went in full flow and my only message was to inspire and pushing people to write...anything newly written is creative! Mentioned my inspirations and credited my heroes and mentors who helped me get this far...the applause followed and it was music to the ears...it was only then that i realized that it was close to 45 minutes of speaking...a bottle of water to fittingly quench my thirst!

The Q&A session was interesting and was probably the coolest part of it all! That extended to almost another 30 minutes or so and it was just pure fun to answer all sorts of questions ...from personal, tragic, fun, inspirational to instances of truth and dare etc...got a few damsel eyes staring at me as well..it had it all! All inclusive...it was a splendid moment and was worth looking back as a revelation and a turning point for me to say the least! Thanking everyone and urging all to write no matter what comes through in life...picking each moment in life but telling not the obvious...to write with the twists of thought and emotion...

I did receive a memento as a sign of thanks and it was an honor to even be on stage and tell people about my passion for writing...my creative side of life had indeed come full circle and i felt at the top of Maslow's Motivational Theory's Triangle...I'm glad I wasn't booed or thrown rotten eggs at or even criticized...I was certainly humbled by the open audience and the applause was a perfect climax.

For me, it was a 'rockstar' moment in life thus far and for those about to write...I salute you!

Veni, vidi and 12 years to vici...

"Poetry Doesn't Sell"

"Sorry we cant publish your works"

"Its not a lucrative business opportunity"

"It wouldn't work out...we don't sell poetry"

Ive heard it all...on the phone, through letters, through e-mails and on my face...and February is when I drove those demons back to their graves and buried them forever. After persisting and persevering for over 12 years...a dream has come true and will be cherished forever...no matter how small the piece or presence looks in the entire picture...it doesn't matter. This is just the beginning...

Some might think that I might be going overboard with this story...but one shouldn't hide away from the truth...Im laying it bare as is to what the voices in my past have filled my mind and heart with. These are the voices that drove me to bounce back higher and forced them to eat their words. I have never felt so victorious in my entire life than at this moment...what seemed impossible and far-fetched is now tangible and true.

This dream took 12 years to come true (much less than some more deserving poets from pillar to post) and it took much more than I expected from me and I became a better and a stronger person. Good things don't come easy..and this wasn't easy...but at the end...it was the best of things to have ever happened. But the dream took 2 years to come to life after the actual 10 year wait...at that moment it seemed like so near but yet too far. The last mile was painful and miserable, but light at the end of the tunnel...

All credit goes to the team at Prakriti Foundation...but my first thanks in this pursuit would go to Dr. Lakshmi Ravikant who helped me get in touch with them and it was only then that things began to change...began to move...the wheels of fortune began to roll.

The 2007 Poetry with Prakriti Festival was my first gateway to this dream and this was a memorable experience. In 2008, after the first festival got over, the second edition was a promising event and got a lot more response and fervor in the circle and then the announcement was made...an anthology of all the poets with their select works to celebrate its success of the poets and the art of poetry. This was my moment of truth...but this would then take its own twists and turns for 2 long years and taught me the virtue of patience and persistence...

In February 22nd, 2010...the warm applause faded away into an evening that sounded the horns of victory. I sit in my chair and a memory of the last 12 years of my writing rushes through me in images...the founder comes to the podium and reads the introduction a warm applause follows. he then requests each poet to read out their works to showcase them to the press and the public. My turn comes and it takes me a moment to reach there and a deep breath to gather my words...

The book is in my hands and my name and works is in that book...with an ISBN (my first ever)...Poetry with Prakriti 2007 - 2008 is the title...and its pages are fragrant. Amidst some wonderful and awesomely talented poets from all over the country, my name is in that crowd somewhere. I was there...after 12 years or relentless and persistent affair with the art and now it had come boiling down to this glorious moment...and I was soaking in it. The bruises and the scars of the past were now washed away and it felt like a dip in the Holy Ganges...a rebirth.

My turn comes and my speech begins..."this is my first ever publishing effort...with an ISBN and Id like to thank everyone who made it possible...its an amazing feeling to be published along with some awesome poets from all over the country...its an honor. Its taken 12 years but its been worth every effort and drop of blood, sweat and tears. So here I am and a special thanks to my friends who made it to the evening. The poem Im about to recite is dedicated to a friend of mine who was one of my best fans and the silent critics Ive ever had...he'd be scared to even say a word but his silence was my best answer...hes no more now and the poem I'm about to recite was on his favorite themes of Pirates and Adventures...this is dedicated to him. This one is called 'Pirate I am, Aye!'

After moments passed, a drop of tear and a emotional performance...a warm but loud applause from a senior and well-read crowd gave me a feeling that could have never been better. My dad was present and was probably one of his moments of silence but filled with thrill and joy...it was written all over his face and he knew it! Thanked my class teacher and my muse to have got me this far and it was then that I had a breath of relief...that the battle had drawn to a close...victory it was and it tasted sweet.

But somehow, this felt the end of the beginning of the war...more fuel now was added to the fire and a battle cry now turned into a well planned journey. With many more dreams in its cradle, this has now become a journey with a broader perspective and a larger goal. The first battle took 12 years for sure...but the war is far from over...and the darkknight is now looking forward to it.

Dear Meera...if you are reading this, thanks a lot for everything! :)

(Tommie Smith and John Carlos give the Black Power salute at the 1968 Olympics)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1968_Olympics_Black_Power_Salute

The Documents of Darkness...

As I move into my second organization, there is a mandatory process which haunts me all the time for it demands me to dig into my past...a dark past. Though this is not the first time, it still brings back a lot of forgettable memories to what I am on paper compared to what I come across as a person to people. Well, some places tend accept you for what you are on paper than by willing to understanding...then for what purpose are institutions for one might ask...

Well to be honest, I wasn't great in school and college and situationally I found it difficult to cope with pressures. I was a slow learner and at snail pace, understood what was taught to me in the year what was taught to me in the previous one. For example - I was king in solving quadratic equations...but only when I was in class 9 whereas it was taught in class 7 or 8. I used to love Geometry but I only got a hold of it when I was in class 10 where it was taught in class 6! Such was my pace...the only subject that I had a hold of was Language...English, Hindi and Sanskrit. I was pretty cool in subjects like Geography and History...mostly dead subjects of what was and has beens. I thought I was bad but there were worse cases also in my class which I wish not to divulge. Strange though...my parents werent really aware of my conditions because, somehow I used to score decently and get away with it. In class, I would always be day dreaming, doodling, playing book cricket, actual cricket, crack useless adolescent jokes and be in a world of my own...everything except studying. I was even afraid to ask doubts because, the ones that I had a doubt about, would be in the previous lesson and the class is in the next lesson already! All the neglect and ignorance and lost in my own world syndrome eventually started my creative writing journey early in school which later formed my path to some sort of glory to what I am today.

But what was best about all of this was that most of the kids in school and in college dint view me like that...they understood me more than my shoddy academics and respected me for what I was but unfortunately, I wasnt able to match the same with them in terms of my performances, which was very disheartening to me. I was pretty good at having a conversation with boys, girls, juniors, seniors, teachers, professors etc. I wasnt that bad in joking and fooling around with people too...I loved the company of people and I hope it was vice versa too! I wasnt that bad in sports and games too...decent in Athletics and Cricket and I also used to be a key member of the students cabinet too!!! I was an avid quizzer and a budding poet right from my schooling days and it still continues to be my passions in life. As one can see...nothing academical so far...

As most might 'consider' by now...sorry, 'conclude' by now, is that everything besides studies excited me the most. But what one must understand that I tried my best with my academics and passed out only as an average student but a better and stronger person. All said and done, in our societies, until one is a topper or a rank holder, they would eventually be disregarded to an extent where even finding a groom or a bride becomes next to impossible. I still wonder what the spouses would do with their marksheets once they get married!!! On a lighter note, the recent IIT pass out family killings throws a darker tone compared to what simpler people can imagine to do. What I intend to state is that not all academically profecient people are no guarantors to being perfect people. We all have inconsistencies...it just depends on what aspects are we in...professionally or personally. Its a choice we all have to correct...depends on which one.

Lets bring this discussion to a more lighter vein. I mean no disrespect to all the great minds around...and I mean it. Its just an observation and a self-assuring stand that Im certainly not the only one thinking on these lines. Our Indian Society has been built on a premises that people with low academic achievements are doomed to no end and this according to me is a grave assumption. I saw my inefficiency as a blessing and as a sign of a hidden talent in me to which I had to discover just like discovering an alter ego...and this was the origin of my pseudonym - 'darkknight' This was an interesting journey and I will not delve in detail in this piece. One of my write ups titled "A decade of writing" can shed more light if one needs to know more. What I am trying to convey is that if one door is closed in one's life...there is always another door in the dark that needs to be searched for and which needs to be open to let the light in and let others know that there is always a way out and there is always light at the end of darkness. (Phew...that was a long construct!)

On conclusion, we always tend to think in a way which puts us in an awkward situation which where we consider 'what woud others think of us' and 'what would they think if we did this', 'if we did this, did that' et al. But what I have learnt now and more assuringly after the recent documentation submission in my new organization is that one must be aware of not only ones surroundings but also with ones own beliefs and perspectives. Once that stage is attained, marksheets of the past which one might have considered the documents of darkness...will fade away into light and bring out the best in us. Believe me, it isnt a pleasant past, but surely a bright future...

People respect you for what you are and what you have achieved. This can be on paper and can be on performance. What is performed sometimes is captured on paper...sometimes it is captured on character. The latter takes a longer time to discover but eventually lasts forever...

A decade of poetry - I

This has been an unfathomable journey and it has taken a decade to realize how far I have come in this chosen path. A journey that has taken me to places never imagined before and meeting people I had never met before and getting to know people better than I knew them before. This path has put me on situations and has tested my wit, wisdom and my will and has put me from an unidentifiable soul to at least the one whose word is at least read and heard.

For the last ten years, there has been a life that I have never dreamt of. I began with a self motivated push and it came in the form of an exercise post a lesson in my English Class way back in the year 1998. I still remember it was Ogden Nash's poem on a patients ordeal with his bad tooth at the Dentist's place. It was titled "This Is Going To Hurt Just A Little Bit". There was something about the dark humour in the poem that tempted me to give it a try and it was then that I gave it my first shot at my first poem. In all the cliché to it...there was no more looking back.

It was the likes of Robert Frost, Rudyard Kipling, Samuel Taylor Coleridge that further motivated me to take this direction and pursue the craft of poetry which is seemingly becoming a dead art like the language of Sanskrit. I am not telling that it is dead...just that it has taken a lot of derivative forms that the purity has been almost wiped out. Of all the people I have met, I havent yet met the right publisher. Even if i met one, all they said was - "Sorry, Poetry doesnt sell, so we cant take your material" . And this was what prompted me to write for the art and for my writing pleasure.

Writing was one of the biggest revelations in my life. It helped me cross the trivial pressures and the confused state of mind of a teenager. The art was my saviour and put me on a course that was charted to some destined destination. When I was in Delhi for my schooling, I surely was the most recognizable, but for all the wrong reasons. I was called Madrasi and was treated like a guy from Africa because of my complexion. Well, this did build a lot of internal pressure and stress and by discovering the art of poetry, I saved myself from the violent arms of the disturbed mind. The writing did the trick and I soon found my way out. In the last 4 years of my schooling, the first 2 years were hell...after that it was a comeback of sorts - my knowledge of weilding the power of the pen than that of the sword, paved my way to some recognition and saw the same guys who took me down, see me in the eye and just wishing me well. That was my first ever victory...I knew it was just the beginning...

Writing was a very enjoyable experience at this stage because it was all about the discovery the art and it was a very innocent stage where even the silliest rhyme would sound like the chime of the bells. Without a proper guide or a person to keep pushing me to be good at it, I took it as a mission to do what was necessary. I would take up words as titles...just plain words...and write about them - for e.g. Books, Winter, Time, Music, Love etc. and endlessly tear down the drafts till they sounded right to enter my first ever collection of my poems. This wasn’t however very easy to do, as it involved a lot of patience, persistence and a lot of practice. But it finally paid off as it took at least the first 3 years to bring about 75 of my first poems into one solid collection.

This would go on to become the first of many ventures and thematic expeditions I had set upon. I had finally found my muse. The identity I had taken was what I called the DarkKnight which defined my struggle and the battle I waged to overcome my barriers and defy what was impossible with my only weapon of choice – and hence the reference of the Warrior Poet as a model of my existence and purpose and hence the deep and dark sides of the Knight in me who rose in the darkest of moments.

Please Note – the pseudonym might be a direct parallel to The Batman's tale of emergence but is not derivative of the name. It was just mere coincidence, like it was all meant to be, like it all fell in the right place.

More to come on Part II