#173: Nature Lovers United
Sometimes I’m a river / a small seed or a great tree / But I am always me.
Dear reader,
I’m in a mood. The weather in Bangalore is far too charming. I’m doing everything with a smile on my face, energised by the cold and subsequent warmth of blankets and sweaters. And I’ve been nurturing myself by nurturing my plants. Three tiny bhindis appeared on the mother plant, and I’m over the moon observing mundane little things like this around the house. What are the tiny, seemingly un-noticeable going-ons in your home that nurture you?
I’ve also been laughing A LOT, all thanks to Larry David and his genius show Curb Your Enthusiasm.
Definitely up there on my list of Best TV shows I’ve seen in 2021, somewhere between Ted Lasso and High Maintenance.
Poetry Corner
I’ve been daydreaming a lot, and find myself often drifting off into the clouds. Some poems on nature and life that I found along the way:
Poem by Kate Coombs
Sometimes I’m a cloud.
Sometimes a mountain or a stone.
Sometimes I’m a river,
a small seed or a great tree.
But I am always me.I think I could turn and live with animals by Walt Whitman
I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd,
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.Fireflies in the Garden by Robert Frost
Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can’t sustain the part.Things To Believe In by Patricia Monaghan
trees, in general; oaks, especially;
burr oaks that survive fire, in particular;
and the generosity of apples
seeds, all of them: carrots like dust,
winged maple, doubled beet, peach kernel;
the inevitability of change
frogsong in spring; cattle
lowing on the farm across the hill;
the melodies of sad old songs
comfort of savory soup;
sweet iced fruit; the aroma of yeast;
a friend’s voice; hard work
seasons; bedrock; lilacs;
moonshadows under the ash grove;
something breaking throughThe Lost Man by Judith Wright
To reach the pool you must go through the rain-forest –
through the bewildering midsummer of darkness
lit with ancient fern,
laced with poison and thorn.
You must go by the way he went – the way of the bleeding
hands and feet, the blood on the stones like flowers,
under the hooded flowers
that fall on the stones like blood.
To reach the pool you must go by the black valley
among the crowded columns made of silence,
under the hanging clouds
of leaves and voiceless birds.
To go by the way he went to the voice of the water,
where the priest stinging-tree waits with his whips and fevers
under the hooded flowers
that fall from the trees like blood,
you must forget the song of the gold bird dancing
over tossed light; you must remember nothing
except the drag of darkness
that draws your weakness under.
To go by the way he went, you must find beneath you
that last and faceless pool, and fall. And falling
find between breath and death
the sun by which you live.
Recommended Listening
Winter Flower - Clam Casinos (perfect mini-album for this sweater weather)
Links of the Week
The Art-o-mat, a vending machines that dispenses original works of art
30 Days to Better Habits (a free email course by James Clear)
DOONT — A Bad Lip Reading of Dune (cracked me up)
“I’m sure entire books have been written about how poetry is not so easy to define. But I’m remembering something C. S. Giscombe said about how you know a poem is working. I would borrow it to define poetry in general: it’s a place where you press up against the divine.”
-Jenny Qi on defining poetry (The Rumpus)
Book Announcement: #KindnessMatters
The Alipore Post curated seven poems on kindness from around the world for the book #KindnessMatters by Penguin India and UNESCO MGIEP that was launched on #WorldKindnessDay.
Featuring poems by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer (USA), Rohini Kejriwal (India), Michael Blumenthal (USA), Juansen Dizon (Manila), Dhayana Alejandrina (Dominican Republic/USA), Safiya Sinclair (Jamaica) and DJ Elton (Australia).
Inspiring and thought-provoking, the book features voices and journeys of people who have dedicated their lives to making the world a better place. We invite you to take inspiration from these real-life heroes and read these 50 transformative acts of kindness. #KindnessMatters
Call for submissions for The Alipore Post Journal
Theme: Winter
A new concept I read about: Kama Muta (via Aeon)
That warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you’re ‘moved by love’ is called kama muta.
Kama muta is closely related to, but not the same as, love. Love is an enduring sentiment, whereas kama muta is the momentary emotion that occurs when love ignites. That is, you feel kama muta when new love emerges (such as a first kiss, or someone shows you kindness), or existing love suddenly becomes salient, or a sense of belonging, connection, and identity emerges, for example at a march or demonstration. The suddenly created or intensified love can be romantic, platonic, or religious. It can be with one person, with a family or team, or with the entire Earth. It can be the gratitude for an unexpected kindness, or the sense of connection and belonging at a warm welcome.
I’ll leave you with a quote by Edgar Allan Poe I came across recently, and a question:
“If a poem hasn’t ripped apart your soul; you haven’t experienced poetry.”
Which poem has ripped apart your soul? I’d love to read those poems, so please do email me back at thealiporepost@gmail.com with your responses :)
Stay warm this winter,
Rohini