Arts & artists - can they be compared?

I chanced upon a quote of Leonardo Da Vinci which said, “The poet ranks far below the painter in the representation of visible things, and far below the musician in that of invisible things.”

He had the right to compare poetry with painting and music as he was a gigantic fusion of being a scientist, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, painter, sculptor, architect, botanist, musician, poet and writer.

A deep thought on his statement triggered off the following points in my mind.....

• Even a 3 month old baby can respond to lilting music
• Even a 3 year old appreciates painting
• But sometimes even a 30 year old doesn’t show interest in poetry

They are true for a common man whose senses are intact.

What about those deaf, dumb and blind? Where do they stand in the regions of visible and invisible things?

A deaf can never feel the musical notes on his ears. He is not aware that music truly surpasses the language barriers and stirs the listening heart expressing its cosmic unity of souls. He is even deprived of enjoying the rustling of leaves, roaring of waves, pounding of heart, laughter of a baby, whack on the head, tapping on the stagnant water, rushing of rivers, clapping of hands, lighting of a matchstick, …….. His world is one of meditative state of silence which a spiritual man wants to achieve. In fact, forms and frames take him to far greater heights.

A born blind on the other hand is deprived of enjoying the beautiful sceneries, landscapes, waterfalls, clouds, oceans, waves, mountains, stars, sky, man, woman, physical display of emotions…….. Have we ever bothered to find out how does he shape his world of beings and things? I often wonder on these lines as he has no base to construct anything; as his world is one of the unknown horizons. So, the magic of painting has no place in his life whereas his extraordinary sensory organs can capture music to make him travel quickly beyond his dark world.

What if one is blind and deaf? How did Helen Keller manage to live in a world without sounds and images? What her life would have been if not for Anne Sullivan? I dread to think of such a situation for myself as I could not have differentiated between a lion and a tiger till my death.

While painting is reachable for deaf and music for blind, writing is one such art form which can give life to both. And poetry is a branch of it.

Poetry has its own world of charms and dreams, imaginations and beauty, subtleties and creativity.

Shakespeare says,

“The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And, as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.”


The only eligibility criterion for a reader to capture the poet’s frenzied imagination is the language.

Don’t we all (that includes deaf & blind) learn at least one language in our lifetime?

The irony is, Da Vinci compared artists of different arts. Just like one needs to master the language to become a laudable poet, did he not know that the strokes of a painter should also be free-flowing and musical notes of a musician should be one of exemplary perfection? What is a visible thing and an invisible thing according to him?

So long one has brain, so long one’s thought processes are alive, imagination and perfection are necessary for any art form, is it not?

As for me, where your interest lies, that’s where matters begin and end whether it is music or painting or poetry. You can trip down to visible and invisible things as per your wish in your own world.

Let me clarify here that this piece of writing is not to attack or defend Da Vinci's statement. I simply adore him for what he was, as it is said that the world is yet to see such a genius still. And he has a right to hold this opinion from his viewpoint.

It is mainly intended to explore different worlds of different people capable of mastering different arts in their presentation and representation.

Euphoria

Go to a beach nearby
Leave your slippers aside
Feel the tickle of sand underneath
Swallow the beauty of waves in your eyes
Walk slowly towards the sea
Delete all around you from consciousness
Let the first wave kiss your feet

Viola!
That’s a euphoric moment
Let the matter and water mix within you
Retain the chillness touching your adrenaline
Zoom ahead with your emotions
Laugh or smile liberally

I can assure you one thing
Whoever feels desolate
He/she is sure to feel -
Come what may in life
I am loved by Him always

Those droplets…

Your every effort
May look insignificant
But actually they are not
Watch those droplets
Filling the bucket
Slowly and steadily…
Your effort is nothing
But those priceless droplets
He told me the other day

Obeying his words
I sat before those droplets
And watched them patiently
Alas!
I realised all of a sudden
That I had already wasted
Those droplets of time
From my bucket full of life

Does anybody know
How many droplets
Can I afford to fit in still?

'The trail' in GDN

One more poem 'The trail' is published in Gulf Daily News today.


http://www.gulf-daily-news.com/story.asp?Article=200185&Sn=BNEW&IssueID=30242

Silhouettes of souls

There was an attractive liquid smile
On my lips with an innocent finish
Adorning the mirror of anomaly
Radiating youth with silver strands
Deceiving the ruthless age clock

In a flash least expected
Those stiletto cuts of time
Slithered my body in a cross
Pushing to the dominion of decompose
With a thumping expertise

Realising my stance less stance
In the form of a spiritless spirit
I visualised those silver images
That caressed my erstwhile life
With care, concern and love

Helpless, as I looked ahead in a jiffy
With a welled up heart and teary eyes
An angel of all-encompassing love
Held my left hand to raise the right
Towards the kingdom of souls

A luminous light with matchless velocity
Enveloped my matter-less bosom softly
Playing the ballroom scenes
Of those silhouettes that cared me
Which left me alone staggered

I found the shadows of my old life
And the love of those silhouettes
Were only whimsical play of Light
That kept changing its hues
Switching my cries and laughter

With a shapeless smile of peace
I shrugged my blemishes in a wink
And whisk passed my body & those silhouettes
With a will to be a soul of Light -
A birth that sees no death

A thought to share

Palace is not in my wish-list to God
Diamonds are not my passion to guard
Fame is not what I want in this life
Power is not my forte in this world of strife

Think I do with grandeur in mind
Work is what makes my body grind
Laughter I share in a candid way
Hurt is what I do the least in a day

A walk along the seashore is fine
Nature bends to cajole me in line
Kisses I plant on babies not to tame
Wish to play life as a serene game

One needs fortitude to pursue their track
But weaknesses are holding me to crack
Giggle I do a lot in innocence
After all, immortal I am in essence

My works may die with my funeral
Big Bang too would see its doom corporeal
Rimless rim is the vibration of the sage
Light up all lives in your way is my message


Diwali greetings to all!

Grotesque gait

Have you ever watched the limping of stray dogs and cats? Do you feel anything at that time?

As a young girl, I used to fondle our pet dog, Mothi. I was very possessive of that black King. I could never tolerate any passing remark on him. While my parents would be fuming at his mischievous adventures in and around our house, I used to amuse, enjoy and cuddle him for what he was. In a few words, he was a part of our big family, so much so that during arati time everyday he would attend wherever he might be hiding in our compound. He was a beast of carefree attitude, yet would love to demand all attention on him.

All his bravery would be dissolved during Diwali time. I still vividly remember how he would manage to hide himself under the bed shaking and shivering with every sound of cracker. I lost charm in bursting crackers because of him as I didn’t want to give any kind of discomfort. In fact, I have learnt an important lesson of not giving pain to other beings out of my pleasure. That includes all stray dogs and cats on the roads.

With the arrival of Mothi into our household and his part of growing along with me, I understood how painful life must be for the homeless creatures, whether beast or human. Whenever I see children throwing stones on these hapless beings, I would get angry and admonish them not to do so. The echoes of such painful howls reverberates in my brain for a long time and it is more aching to see those limping animals fleeing for life from the young thugs. And I had always protected Mothi from such unscrupulous kids during my daily walks with him.

Mind you, I had limped only a few times to feel its real impact. But that was in childhood.

Yesterday, in a whirlwind mood to finish off the work before guests could arrive for lunch, I was buzzing in the kitchen like a tornado. Unexpected it was though unavoidable, a glass bowl kissed the ground with a cling clang sound scattering the glass pieces all over my usual den. One managed to pierce my left heel and damaged my normal walk. A few ounces of blood oozed but neither did I have time to mourn for this temporary loss nor for the shooting pain along with the leg pain (below left knee) I am experiencing of late. I managed to realize them only when they all left late in the evening.

The effect – I am limping now. Damage is done easily but mending takes time. So, always be alert. I learnt this important lesson yesterday one more time. Not only had I lost the glass bowl but also have gained a temporary grotesque gait.

It is hard to balance the whole body on one leg. How could these physically challenged people survive? A big salute to them all!



P.S. Invitation for New Year celebrations was extended to us by one of the guests spontaneously.