Together

How did we spend our 10th wedding anniversary just a month ago? I was recovering from Chikangunya and suffering from joint pains. Sylvia was just discharged from hospital owing to a back injury. In the midst of a busy work season and a phase of professional uncertainty, we'd planned nothing. There was a huge amount of stress both personally as well as professionally. On the evening of our anniversary we were sitting in our living room, exhausted and spent from the day's stresses. But from that point on, it turned into one of the best anniversary celebrations of my life. No jokes. We pushed aside our quagmire of troubles and ordered a simple cake. We lit a candle, cut the cake and just held each other without talking. No music, no people, no celebration. And that's when it hit me. We were over the hump. We would be together all our lives. There were no pretenses left, no hangups, no facades. For a bit of time, all my troubles melted away and I knew things would be fine no matter how tough it got. Because of moments like these. When all else is stripped away, we realized we didn't need a milestone party or a fancy celebration to commemorate this tenth anniversary. We just needed each other. And conversely we also realized an important fact - through the tough times, the most important thing we needed was each other's support. The rest would fall in place.

Sometimes one envisions and dreams about things that might be. Our version of what we think of our futures. Not utopian dreams but our desires nonetheless. In 2011 I had penned a poem on what I felt a relationship should be like. I was inspired by the biological phenomenon of facultative mutualism, strongly displayed by the sea anemone and the clownfish. 

A hundred fathoms deep,

waters peaceful but swift.

She gently sways in sleep

her tentacles adrift

in currents from afar blown - 

The lovely Sea Anemone.

Shades of ethereal blue

adorn her tentacles.

Ripples lending a hue

to those grim sentinels.

Deadly but beautiful

Masking her fatal pull.

Within her dense petals

lives the simple clownfish

In her warmth he nestles

safe in the polyp's swish.

His vibrant colours bring

her food to her deadly sting.

He flitters in and out

amongst tentacles armed

with poisoned darts throughout

letting him play unharmed

and with his fluid nourish

her every fibre does relish. 

A barracuda stalks him

its ugly mouth agape.

She readies to guard him

and afford him escape,

From his predatory jaws

and teeth like deathly claws.

A butterfly-fish waits

for him to wander out

and leave her in dire straits

prey to a hungry snout.

But he stands by her side

The fish's threat brushed aside.

Such threats oft and common

met with equal measure;

Is symbiosis begun

in these depths of azure.

where enemies so abound

Each other have they found.

This perfect symphony

helps them survive

in mutual harmony

The union comes alive 

To the others every need

Attuned; each other pays heed

I didn't really realize then how accurate this poem was and how strong this phenomenon is. Took me ten years to truly understand what I had composed. And I'm sure it'll take us some more time to truly appreciate what we have too. But we can try. Starting with our tenth wedding anniversary. Here's to us. 

Ode to Poetry

The flow, ever so lovely flow
of syllables into words
and words into sentences
and sentences that shine aglow,

Into meaning; and its myriad hues
of shapes and structures,
or lands and people;
that the mind can calmly peruse.

Or poll it's own choices
from the ego to the id;
And sift wants from the needs
Till it silently rejoices

at it's own ageless wonder -
From stone tool to marble arch,
From sundials to starry skies;
Words can so aptly render.

Such is the power of the rhyme
Or of sonnets and couplets,
Or ballads and odes,
Like the immortal sands of time.

On Invictus

HENLEY VS MILTON

Henley

Milton

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide, "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?" I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts: who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed And post o'er land and ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and wait."

By far, “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley is the BEST poem I have read to date. To be clear, Invictus is the poem on the left in the table above. I read this poem way back when I was in college, and it has left an indelible mark on my psyche since. I have often compared both Henley and Milton. Both had unfortunate lives affected deeply by health. Both had a physical impediment that they had to surmount to make ends meet. But the two poems above are so different in tone and style that I have often wondered how a life of struggle can lead to two so diametrically opposite views of existence.

Come to think of it, John Milton is a much more famous poet than William Ernest Henley. “On His Blindness” is a famous work by Milton and is studied in post-graduate English everywhere as an example of classical poetry. It is written as an Italian sonnet whereas “Invictus” does not lay claim to any technical metre or structure.

Phase	Henley	Milton
Period of Existence	1849 - 1903. Henley was born and lived during the heyday of the British Empire.	1608 - 1674. Milton lived through a very turbulent phase of British history in the 1600s. Cromwell and the Royalists were in a state of flux and though there is no way to determine right and wrong; Milton lived in a period of heavy political turmoil.
Personal Lives	Henley suffered from tuberculosis of the bone which caused his leg to be amputated when he was 20 years old. Despite this handicap, he led a fulfilling life dying when he was aged 53. Henley worked as a literary reviewer and publisher. He was married only once and had only six children from this marriage.	Milton suffered from blindness since his early 30s. Despite his blindness, Milton did his best to continue his writing and his profession. Milton was a public servant and a government employee. In a very turbulent political period, he took a stand for republicanism and wrote voraciously about it. He also took a stand on divorce which was considered as a very controversial thing to do in the 1600s. He was divorced twice.
Tragedy	Amputation of his leg due to tuberculosis of the bone when he was 20.	Complete blindness due to unknown causes in his early 30s.
Known for . .	Invictus	Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained.

Perhaps the most famous phrases in Milton’s poem are “who best bear his mild yoke, they serve him best” and “They also serve who only stand and wait”. Both lines set the tone of the poem – that of servitude to god. Though by no standards had Milton an easy life, “On His Blindness” has a distinct defeatist tone to it. Even without going into form, metre and structure, the poem blatantly talks of serving god without expectation and without restraint or doubt. Milton speaks of how one must accept one’s destiny with resignation and wait for god to give one his or her just rewards.

On the other hand, “Invictus” is a war-cry against the gods. It is a rousing cheer of human effort. It is a bugle that has blared in readiness for battle. It is the hoarse cry of the warrior. It is the ultimate challenge thrown to an insurmountable opposition.  The last verse of the poem leaves us with an adrenaline rush. It assures us that we are indeed in charge of our fate. We shape our destiny. We can fight against the odds and we can emerge victorious. One can only imagine Henley in his 20s lying in bed with an amputated foot, determined to start life afresh, rebelling against “god’s plan” and deciding on his future course of action with a stout heart and a readiness for any fate.

Here’s to the Henley in all of us. The part of us that wishes to continue the battle despite the odds. The part of us that shall not give in and break. The part that shall fight on. That last inch of us that shall not perish.

Here’s to Invictus.

A Smile

Like a loving hand lifting the shroud

of abject misery from careworn woe;

or sunshine melting a looming cloud

to set the cockles of a heart aglow . . 

In similar fashion will a smile

let our hearts flit merrily awhile.

(Penned this for a photo that I saw on an ex-colleague's photography page.

Credit for photo - https://www.facebook.com/Shraddha.Photography)

Sleep

As I wait for that sweet release to envelop me, a lovely poem comes to mind. I read this a long time ago but for some reason it made a deep impact. It's a short poem written by Shahriar Shahriari titled "Sleep" -

Though wakefulness my domain
In sleep I remain,
For wakefulness is sleep
One shallow and one deep.