Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Sing from your heart


What do I say? It’s a beautiful song. Listen on.

Ok ok. It’s a blog I can’t be so lazy and just put a youtube link on Tracy Chapman’s fast car and say – aaj ka post ho gaya. I heard this song many years ago when it was nominated for the Grammys. Doordardhan the state run channel would play English music only when the Grammy nominations were announced. That too a small clip. And then we would stay up and watch the Grammy awards. It was ‘the’ thing to watch. For youngsters who were depraved of the in demand western culture, Grammy’s were all you could get to see a part of ‘their’ life and hope to adopt a part of it in yours.
Fast car remains an all-time favorite. Simple tune and a simple song. Though till many years I never got the lyrics. I only got the guitar going ting toing Fast Car. The rest was a bit of blabber gibberish. Today when it was played on a podcast and I heard the song and understood the lyrics.

I heard this stanza
You got a fast car
I got a plan to get us out of here
I been working at the convenience store
Managed to save just a little bit of money
Won't have to drive too far
Just 'cross the border and into the city
You and I can both get jobs
And finally see what it means to be living

It seems to be a song of hope and despair. It’s funny how the poverty around me is rising and hitting me a lot these days. I just finished reading the City of Joy. Then I went to Devki’s house (previous blog) and then this song hits me. I read the whole lyrics for the first time today and I realized what makes this song so special. While Jispa learns about browing and his poetry and possibly Robert Frost – I have argued that this is as much serious poetry as it gets and must be a part of curriculum. Why can this not be taken in school? Just because it’s sung? And that its popular.
This is what wikipedia says about the song.
The song is a narrative tale of generational poverty. The song's narrator tells the story of her hard life, which begins when her mother divorces her jobless, alcoholic father, forcing the narrator to quit school in order to care for him. Eventually, she leaves her hometown with her partner in the hope of making a better life. Despite her employment at a grocery store, she falls victim to the cycle of poverty, as her life begins to mirror her mother's: her partner remains largely unemployed and becomes an alcoholic. She is left alone with her children while her partner spends time drinking with friends.
Finally, after getting a job that will support her family, she comes to accept her life as the way it is and to give up chasing empty dreams. She tells her partner to leave her; to take "your fast car and keep on driving." The final refrain is sung in variation, changing from "We gotta make a decision, leave tonight or live and die this way" to "You gotta make a decision, leave tonight or live and die this way."
Isn’t there a Dickensian streak in this? imagine having a song being played in class and then analysed in class. Then it takes us to the cycle of poverty and the discussion on economics and taxation and the welfare state. What an enriching class. But alas!
Here read the complete lyrics.

You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere
Anyplace is better
Starting from zero got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
Me, myself I got nothing to prove

You got a fast car
I got a plan to get us out of here
I been working at the convenience store
Managed to save just a little bit of money
Won't have to drive too far
Just 'cross the border and into the city
You and I can both get jobs
And finally see what it means to be living

You see my old man's got a problem
He live with the bottle that's the way it is
He says his body's too old for working
His body's too young to look like his
My mama went off and left him
She wanted more from life than he could give
I said somebody's got to take care of him
So I quit school and that's what I did

You got a fast car
Is it fast enough so we can fly away
We gotta make a decision
Leave tonight or live and die this way

So remember we were driving, driving in your car
Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
I had a feeling that I belonged
I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car
We go cruising to entertain ourselves
You still ain't got a job
I work in a market as a checkout girl
I know things will get better
You'll find work and I'll get promoted
We'll move out of the shelter
Buy a bigger house and live in the suburbs

I remember we were driving, driving in your car
Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
I had a feeling that I belonged
I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car
I got a job that pays all our bills
You stay out drinking late at the bar
See more of your friends than you do of your kids
I'd always hoped for better
Thought maybe together you and me would find it
I got no plans I ain't going nowhere
So take your fast car and keep on driving

I remember we were driving, driving in your car
Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
I had a feeling that I belonged
I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so you can fly away
You gotta make a decision
Leave tonight or live and die this way

 And now go back to the top and close your eyes and listen to it again and suddenly the song  and the poetry has a different meaning for you. It did for me.

And now to close on a slightly up beat yet melancholic note. (opposites reconciling :) ) It’s beautiful and I just heard it for the first time as the next song on some playlist as I was listening to Tracy Champan.



Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Inspirational irreverence

v-inu wouldn’t care two hoots about commenting directly on blog but is a regular reader. He reads almost everything but gets tuned off when I chatter philosophically or moralistically or any other callys.

Here is a video he sent for Jispa



The lyrics are as under
An Effervescing Elephant
with tiny eyes and great big trunk
once whispered to the tiny ear
the ear of one inferior
that by next June he'd die, oh yeah!
because the tiger would roam.
The little one said: "Oh my goodness I must stay at home!
and every time I hear a growl
I'll know the tiger's on the prowl
and I'll be really safe, you know
the elephant he told me so."
Everyone was nervy, oh yeah!
and the message was spread
to zebra, mongoose, and the dirty hippopotamus who wallowed in the mud and chewed his spicy hippo-plankton food and tended to ignore the word preferring to survey a herd of stupid water bison, oh yeah!
And all the jungle took fright,
and ran around for all the day and the night but all in vain, because, you see, the tiger came and said: "Who me?!
You know, I wouldn't hurt not one of you.
I'd much prefer something to chew
and you're all to scant." oh yeah!
He ate the Elephant

He also writes that “This is by Syd Barrett - one of the founders of Pink Floyd. Teachers wouldn't exactly prefer him as a role model for a kid.”

Well I guess so, but she can take all the inspiration she can get.

PS: she seems to be doing well with Lester for the elocution competition but I guess its not as funny as the original Crocodile's toothache. This one has a limited set of emotions and does not allow for sharp contrasts. Am I making sense? Atleast to me ... I think.

While we are on the topic, I would rate the above equally inspirational for Jispa as this link here http://www.ted.com/talks/pranav_mistry_the_thrilling_potential_of_sixthsense_technology.html

Friday, September 11, 2009

education... creativity...? the answer is a shel?

Yesterday I came across two videos. Both of which are interesting and in a manner of speaking on the different quadrants of an axis.
The first one was the speech by Obama on education urging the kids to follow through (right word?) on their responsibility towards education. Not bad at all, though I am a bit tired of him talking everywhere. While I might be falsely accusing narcissism what he says is definitely worth listening. It did make sense.
In the evening I came across another video, (actually the audio I heard in a horrific traffic jam) where the sir Ken Robinson talks about something even more pertinent. He argues that the education system designed to aid the industrial revolution post the 1900’s kills creativity and is unable to provide our kids with skills needed or hone the varied skills they are born with. A lovely one that. My favourite line "My contention is that creativity now is as important in education as literacy"
If you have to choose between the videos see the Ken Robinson one. The first is something enforces something you thought to be true and the other one enforces what you suspected to be true.
Choosing one over the other is pretty stupid but understanding the context of one with the other is having the ability to reconcile quadrants.






On the subject of creativity and education, Jispa has an elocution contest on Tuesday. Now I don’t really care if she wins or not but I sure want her to have a wild story to tell and a unique way to tell it. A little bit of overacting may not be out of order. As long its funny and Jispa enjoys it! The poem I choose is a Shel Silverstein one. Those are the best with enough twist on our notion of ‘normalease’. It is called the crocodile’s tooth ache. I found it extremely funny and allows for a play between two characters. The crocodile who is normally fierce is the victim and the dentist who is normally the sweet heat is the perpetrator of the crime. And in the end the dentist’s ghastly end leaves you with no remorse but a sense of justice. That was too much analysis for such a lovely poem. We have lost the ability to see it for what it is…. Essshhh.. Here enjoy it as much I did…it’s in his uniquely gruff voice

Friday, July 10, 2009

time to change times?

After reading the Bob Dylan post, v-inu was like ‘my firend is listening to Bob Dylan!!! What happened to you?’ I think he was wondering if I had gotten potty in the head (for those wondering where they have heard the phrase, credits - Bill Waterston). The answer is guilty as charged with a slight variation on the crime. I dint get potty in the head – I always was potty in the head. Odd heads attract. That why we are still friends, you fiend. Before you point out, noopes, that is not a spelling error, you fiend. Add Dinesh to the equation and you have the cone heads.
So in continuation of my new found passion, here is more Bob Dylan. Learning from mistakes of the last experience I am not over theorizing. In fact I am not theorizing at all. The words of Umberto Eco come to mind - "I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth. "

So hence I am merely reproducing the lyrics of – The times they are a changing. Quite nice poetry. I wonder why popular culture is shunned by the text books. We had the bal bharati series of text books with only works of poets that had died at least a 100 years ago. Don’t get me wrong. They were pretty ok, even inspiring and interesting at times but wouldn’t Bob Dylan in there be cool? I can even imagine my poetry teachers getting a guitar and a harmonica to class and singing the songs. Ok on second thoughts – I don’t want THEM to sing it. It would have made poor Bob uncool. But you get the point.
So before I introduce Bob let me introduce you to some of the poetry I remember reading / learning.

William Wordsworth (1770 –1850)
The Solitary Reaper

BEHOLD her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?--
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

I loved this one. I was in love with the solitary reaper. Well yah, in love with the image of the solitary reaper that I had in my mind. This poem stirred up all the newly found hormones of a 14 year old.
------------------------------------------
The next one was a favorite then and is a favorite now. This I knew by rote then and I often quote from it now. It was an inspiring one. I quite liked it.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
A PSALM OF LIFE
Tell me not in mournful numbers,
"Life is but an empty dream!"
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us further than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act -- act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait
-------------------------------------------------------

The next one appealed to my nationalist tendencies. I was a staunch nationalist. I wanted to join the army. I also completed my C certificate in the National Cadet Corps. I still remember my number - No 1 Mah Air Sqd 91/105601. I am a bit more ambivalent or should I say pragmatic about nationalism now.

Sir Walter Scott – (1771- 1832)
This is my own native land

Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
"This is my own, my native land!"
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.

----------------------------

And now let’s have Bob Dylan. He would have been able to hold his own in face of the older greats. At least in the high school text books for sure.

Bob Dylan (1941 - )
The Times They Are A-Changin'

Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to youIs worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.
Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road isRapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.
The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is Rapidly fadin'.
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.




Now that would be pretty cool. Have this in the text book and also have the audio visual play.
As for now – I am inspired enough to play cowboy and shoot with my mouse.