Prayer Power

Prayer and Work

Prayer Power, poem by Remigius de Souza, Mumbai

Prayer Power

Prayer when becomes Work

Nature becomes ugly liability.

Work when becomes Prayer

Nature becomes supreme serenity.

***

Why to pray in the first place?
To what purpose is a prayer addressed?
To who is it addressed?
Is a prayer an offering?
Then what is offered in a prayer?
1) Is it an offering of Words (Mantra?) or an Act of Sacrifice (of something or someone else)?
2) Or, Is a prayer asking for / an application to an authority for a favour in return of an offering?
Could I be an authority and the devotee?
Could I be an offering and the sacrifice at the same time?

(Here, Nature that is within and outside, both; Nature is not merely greenery. There is no need for initiation by any guru to follow and practice work, any work, as a prayer.
It is indeed a way out of conflict/s within a person, between persons, or groups, or between Man and Nature.)

Also see: Prayer Power and Global Climate Warming
 
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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

सृष्टी-स्तवन

रेमीचे सृष्टी-सूक्त 

सृष्टी-स्तवन  (कविता), रेमीजीयस डिसोजा, मुंबई 

 दुवा पहा : सृष्टीयोग 


© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

WORLD WARS WITHOUT BANG

iTECHNOMAN, Self-portrait, Remi de Souza

Arrogant Ego of hi-tech-man
mountain-high, with blinkers on,
makes PCs, satellites, metropolises
that leaves deeper craters
in the Earth, than meteors:
Without Bang World Wars.

* * *
Remigius de Souza | Mumbai | 28-12-2011

Read more>> 1. Missed Target of 9/11, 2. iTECHNOMAN

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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

'Tentacles' of Octopus Remi: Art in Metafiction

'Tentacles' of Octopus Remi: Art in Metafiction (Self-portrait) published on ARCHETYPES INDIA

Srishti – Mother Nature – has Plenty to share; Nothing for sell; Nothing to buy. That's 'Reunion with Mother Nature' – Srishtiyoga (SRISHTIYOGA July 7, 2011)

‘Tentacles’ | Remigius de Souza| 1987 | water colour on handmade paper

Octopus Paul one day suddenly came in limelight.

The cause? It predicted results of the international hockey tournament. That took the First World Nations by storm.

Twitter was crowded by some million twits.
That crowd blocked the site for few hours! Such a craze... blind faith! That too from so-called advance societies! Amazing!

A European nation was even ready to buy that animal.

'Tentacles', Remigius de Souza's self-portrait was published on Net, but none was moved. Not even his friends!

Remi generally does not look in to mirror. Because he notices 'octopus' in the mirror! What, then, could be his misery while wandering the streets of Mumbai metropolis?

He notices millions of people (his aborigine and peasant kinfolks) in the glass-clad multi-storied buildings mushrooming in the concrete jungle. But that never stops Mumbai!


Octopus Paul was a baby, lost to its community and natural environment. After a few months it died. Relieved!

Did anyone ask Octopus Paul before it died, "When this modern Industrial Civilization, which has become powerful within few centuries, will vanish?" We have not heard.

Oh, what do you ask!
The very strength of the powerful is their weakest point. There is a mythological Indian story of Bhasmasur that repeats again and again.

In reality the mighty industrial society has gone with the octopus.
 
In this self-portrait, 'Tentacles', Remi notices himself swallowing Natural Environment by his tentacles spreading and reaching across regions far and wide.

Call it is his misfortune, or call it his fate of unwanted share, or call it a ruthless criticism on Industrial Civilization.

Remi, however, laughs at himself at his cost.

Note. 1: As we write this post, there comes news about, Shuttle Atlantis docks with space station for last time! What a relief for the hungry masses of the world!! Better late than never!!!
2. Remi de Souza doesn’t watch cricket, hockey, football or such events as Olympics, World Cup etc. for he believes that any game must be played for leisure, and such mass events consolidate the centralized powers, and waste finite fossil energy.
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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

WHEN SUNRAYS DID SHINE

When sunrays did
    Shine on
        Winter due
When monsoon
    Showered
        Mother Earth
Word
    Soundless in depth
        Innermost
You were born
    Oh, my poem!

(5-12-1973)
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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

POWERFUL I FALL

I dedicate this poem, written on 03-03-2005, with deep reverence to the Tsunami that took place on March 11, 2011 at Japan, and the one that had touched India earlier. I wouldn't ever regret if I were hit by any natural phenomena. ― Remigius de Souza

The Great Wave by Japanese Master

powerful I fall

air water meekly move aside
from any obstacle on their way
yet their presence inside - outside
in my world
I don’t even ever take notice
as much as of my towering ego
take them always for granted or
add some aroma.
it’s  pleasure to see them play
and sing photogenic as they seem
leisurely happily dancing together
at sea-shore
until suddenly they appear
in colossal shape size speed
a mighty dragon from the ocean
at my door
ransack everything on their way
as my nice world turns scary grey
I am stunned
in spite of all my might wickedest
of intellect and tools to dominate resist
powerless I fall.


- - - - -
Mumbai
03-03-2005
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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

FOREST DAMES IN THE URBAN JUNGLE

At early hours
Silently thy walk at a quick pace
In a single file
Even in this metropolis as in the forest
Keeping an even
Distance at an arm’s length
From each other,
The spring in their feet, rhythm
Of their bodies,
Like storks in the morning sky.

Their focus is fully
To reach the flower bazaar quickly,
Balancing the head load
Of leaves collected from forest land.
Standing at roadside
They quickly sale, earn some cash,
And by noon time
Return to the forest – their homestead.

They’ve no interest
In this glamorous city of gold and trade.
Neither have they seen
The lures on the life-size hoardings
By half naked beauties
Nor they sight show-windows countless.

They make sure
To wrap a towel or pallu* around
Of nine-yard bikinis,
Cover the bare thighs and swinging hips.
It is a tightrope
Walk for survival – to live sanely
In the habitat
Infected by the barbarian Moderns.

On their way back
In file, they respect each other’s space.
All their attention now,
at noon time, their hungry babies at home.
Their full breasts ache
With milk for the child waiting for feed.
In the sex obsessed city
The motherhood is not on a fashion ramp.

*****
Remigius de Souza
Mumbai, 21(12)/11/2003

NOTES:
* Pallu: a free end usually taken over head or around the shouldes of nine-yard sari.
* These forest dames are mostly from Thane District, the backyard of Mumbai city. They mostly belong to Warli tribe. As of today I notice a change in their attire; the younger generation has adopted to five yard saris in place of traditional nine yard ones.

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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

FLOWERS FOREVER

My pathway along the flower bazaar
is hiding its face in utter shame
under the carpet of discarded
faded yesterday’s flowers rising
a stinking aroma as the sun rises up.
They have no salvation and no way
of reaching ever the mother earth
to sustain life eternal, the destiny
denied by the high profile culture
in this flourishing metropolis.


Dirty soil is buried under the tar
layer – no way for a drop of water
to reach thirsty streams below –
as the sun comes up oozes vapour
in the golden city ruled by high culture.
Beside the flower-bazaar lays flesh-bazaar
flourishing spreading its infectious cult
on the high ways and in by-lanes
to other bazaars of hedonic tastes.
A plucked flower here is eye’s pleasure.


Flowers and flesh are graded and priced
from expensive orchid to cheap minor ones
according to affordability in fairness.
Calling the call-girls as sex workers
to honour the labour, the socially awakened
class absolves itself of cultural taboos
and makes way for them to the altar
of progressive newfangled civilisation.
Flowers are offered here to the idols –
the gods or leaders – among the moderns.


The orthodox tribes offer in worship
flowers with grasses ? gains ? leaves ? fruits;
their women who adorn vermilion and
the maidens aspiring for marriage wear
flowers on the heads, celebrate fertility.
Flower is sex, sexual communion in nature
love and romance, fertility and abundance
for all living beings, a healer,
a selfless sacrifice in unison in nature.



(27/11/2002)
((Flower Bazaar at Dadar, Mumbai is a landmark place. Though officially it is shifted to a new place about half a kilometre away, the place is still being used as a flower bazaar by hundreds of vendors who make their living sustainable. Read more on my blog ARCHETYPES INDIA in a coming post.)

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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

The Sons of the Earth

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Passionate ashes of dead volcanoes
dipped in land the essence
of Mohua flowers shakes the covers
of the sons of the Earth

Burning woods in the moonlit warmth;
Evening star rising echoes of the distant
drumbeats in the aching pits.
‘Where are you going
O, sons of the Earth?’


Baroda (Feb 1970)


© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

Orphans of the Earth

No one saw where the rain comes from.
Hidden are the springs of the earth.
No one said of the longings.
No one remembered the dreams.
The orphans of the earth
Deprived of the warmth of her womb
Are seeking refuge in the darkness.

- - - -
[1960–70] Baroda (Now Vadodara)


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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

GROWING TREE – GROWING MIND

A growing tree balances
in time and space;
It’s many branches, leaves,
flowers, petals and fruits,
in harmonious whole.
A walking body seeks balance,
but a growing mind:
A product of the Class culture
justifies its multiple splits,
lies to itself, a life in deceit.


[14-07-2003] Mumbai




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© Remigius de Souza, All rights reserves.

Desert Soil (IMAGE)

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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

Prayer Power and Global Climate Warming

Prayer Power and Global Climate Warming

by Remigius de Souza

Prayer Power: Poem by Remigius de Souza

In the realms of Terra Incognita Indica, sages and saints for centuries acclaimed Sahaja-Dharma – natural intrinsic Dharma – of an individual that is beyond and above any Authority, Institution or Agency. Dharma upholds spirituality / religiousness, even if one may be theist or atheist.

Prayer Power

Prayer when becomes Work
Nature becomes ugly liability.

Work when becomes Prayer
Nature becomes supreme serenity.
(Nature, here, that is inside and outside both.)

Global Climate Warming

WITH THE of civilised societies, there also grew elite classes of rulers and clerics i.e. institutionalised religions, which believed in gods or non-gods, where the rulers assumed the role of incarnation of gods, coroneted by the blessings of the class/ caste of clergy.

Ever since, the history has been witnessing chaos, conflicts, exploitation in the name of sovereignty and/or in the name institutionalised religions and their respective gods. However, ironically, the great civilisations and the empires (until the last century) vanish, and People prevail.

As the civilisations advanced, of course in technologies, with new, newer weapons of war of domination over and exploitation of the weaker, the underclass, also emerged.

The history also witnesses the rise of institutionalised ‘no-God-religions’ and the weapons of war, colonisation, globalisation, market, economy, and convenient laws of the state that may rule and deliver judgements but not Justice; all these add on the already existing chaos.

All the religions and hypothetical systems, which rule, promise protestation of life, happiness and salvation during life and/or after Death (now, in the clones, perhaps).

All humans are subject to emotions roused by their senses, virtues and vices, strength and weaknesses handed over by their grooming and orientations; the more powerful the greater their insecurities.

However, the so-called modern, powerful advance societies have succeeded in organising vice/s on mass scale at global level to the effect of mass murder of Land and Waters and all the Living Beings.

Despite all the hullabaloos raised by these societies on the issue of Global Climate Warming, indeed it is trivial before this crime. To cover up their own crimes on mass scale these societies hold the whole of humanity responsible for global climate warming.

~~~~
Remigius de Souza
~~~~~
© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

Life of a Flower

Life of a Flower

Whosoever whatsoever
Bestowed life unto a flower
Knows its meaning better;
Plucked from its twig,
It yet lives on until its time.

I neither wish to be identified
My self with my name nor
Any trade nor vocation nor profession;
These are but many a location.

In every word I breathe out and in
In every word that I inscribe on sand
I write my epitaph in time to be wiped.
O friend, I share this thought in passing
But you can sure share my being.


Mumbai
9-10-1998


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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

God's acre: देवाचा बिघा

God’s acre

When I was born someone smiled –
a dew drop on a tender blade of grass
draped in rainbow attire,
a sparrow picked a grain and flew.

From morning always moves to dusk
on the pathway walks the Sun, along
hear a call from Goddess Night –
Life hangs until the distance ends.

Remi, if one could cut / graft the roots
of beliefs would the twist between
the ends – Birth and Death –
ever remain the same?

(Translation in English by the author)
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देवाचा बिघा

मी जन्माला आलो तेव्हा कुणीतरी हसलं –
गवताच्या कोवळ्या पातीवरचा दंवाबिंदू
इंद्रधनुचे अंगवस्त्र लेवून,
चिमणीने दाणा टिपला आणि भुर्र्र उडाली

पहाटेपासून सदैव अस्ताची
वाटचाल करणारया सूर्याबरोबर
निशादेवीची हाक ऐकू येते –
अन्तर संपे तोवर प्राण कंठाशी येतात

रेमी, संस्कारांची मूळे कलम करता आली असती
तर जन्म मरणाच्या टोकांमधला पीळ
तसाच राहिला असता का?

स्थळ : बडोदें
तारीख: १९.०६.१९६५
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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

धरतरी (The Land)

धरतरी

धरतरी झाली माझे माता पिता गुरु.

--- रेमी डिसोजा

गुरु पौर्णिमा १८.७.२००८

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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

Rejoice! Its monsoon

Rejoice! Its monsoon

Rejoice! It’s monsoon now.
The dormant seeds germinate now
Through scorched earth
After a long wait.
It’s perhaps auspicious now
To sow and care some seeds
That comes from our kitchen waste
To allow them to regenerate
In a pinch of soil
In tumbler on a window sill
To be instrumental awhile
To clean some air polluted
Than by much talk-talk-talk,
To come out awhile
Of the world of virtual reality,
To join the invisible community
In the pinch of living soil awhile
To have some first hand contact
Consciously awhile
© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.

BODY-DHARMA

Human skeleton of male and female

Body-Dharma

To relieve an entangled life in modern web
There aren’t varsities to teach this art-science.

For it needs unhampered quietude of leisure
And boundless celebrations of life often;

To get out of the bazaar-city’s beatings
A body needs a break to breath free often;

Needs constant bating inside as outside
For a life lost in workaholic rituals often;

Just as the body goes on skin shedding,
For the arrival of Spring, a leaf shedding.

Never knew it; if ever heard, ignored.
When realised would it be too late?

Only one varsity that belongs, our very Self,
In a whirlwind forever – the forgotten Body-Dharma.


Note: The illustration above shows the interior of a human body.
'Body', a word, when even mentioned, we recall mirror images or pretty photos on glossy mags. The images remain skin deep wrapped in visual aesthetics of hedonism.

I had a stint with formal education of architecture as a teacher. I would say, 'Think imagine of actually living inside your designed building. Suppose we take a cross of a Miss World, what would we notice inside?' Someone in the group would screech- 'Eeeee'!

Isn't it time we look at Nature – Srishti – that begins from us, not only our mind that chatters all the time, but also our body that operates round the clock silently. We treat body like an ugly slave, treating with cosmetics. But Srishti doesn't spare anyone, heroes or hoaxes, prince or popper.
Srishti is not kind like branded gods.

Remigius de Souza
Mumbai
22-05-2005

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© Remigius de Souza, All rights reserves

A Natural Order

A Natural Order

Springtime had gone long ago, since then
I walked, and walked the traders’ mall
Of the recognized teaching marts
And the recognized preaching marts
That promise happiness or welfare.

Now I try to recycle the historic manmade
Garbage collected over many monsoons since
The bygone spring; could I but ever recycle
The extravagant wealth and waste it created,
I wonder, knowing a natural order of recycle!

Remigius de Souza
16-18 October 2004

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© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.