Some Thoughts

Some Thoughts

 
New poetry book: Colours of my Heart/ by Surjeet Kalsey

 

 

 Poems in  Surjeet Kalsey’s new poetry book  “Colours of My Heart” portray picture and mannerism in which women are being treated in our society even now while living in the most advanced countries.

                                                                                    -  Publisher

 

In this solitude – broken things/your body did not leave the house./I was punished to live/with a dead body/which silently was eroding/ my energies my self-esteem/and was stealing my soul!” This plaint from the poem ‘Living with the dead’ illustrates the poet’s sombre reflections on vagaries of life.  Another poem ‘The Priority’ dwells upon the manner in which women are treated in the society. However, if you are under the impression that this is an anthology of laments, banish the thought. There is a streak of feminist assertiveness in the poems like “An Incarnation of the Kali” and ‘A Warrior’ when she proclaims, “I am a woman warrior/who believes in Self/and only in myself/and does not need Krishna/to be my charioteer/and utter sermons from the Gita“. The feminist motif is predominant in this collection, as typified by the poem ‘I don’t intend’ (85). The term ‘feminist’ here is used in the sense more as a woman’s awareness of its rights and her rightful place in the society. The poet also portrays other moods ranging from reflections on lunar waxing and waning to self-abnegation.

                                              -Brig R K Sharma,   The Tribune, Chandigarh

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Colours of my Heart

“Surjeet Kalsey’s new book of poems ‘Colours of My Heart’ is an introspective perspective of the plight of all women. Kalsey’s  selection and placement of words weaves a poetic pathway that awakens and heightens the reader’s senses. Her use of colour as a definition for emotion paints from a palette all women can identify with a world where men and women betray each other, i.e.: ‘Jealousy’ …so they prey on other women’s partners; with exotic lingerie and vodka, they hunt their prey, and suck on male vulnerabilities… Her writing is provocative, hopeful and empowering.”

-Valerie B.-Taylor,   President/Facilitator New West Writers                                      Co-ordinator/Facilitator Renaissance Books
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Colours of My Heart by Surjeet Kalsey, Tarlochan Publishers Chandigarh, 2011.   Pages: 96. Rs. 160 (India) Canada/USA $15 + postage    To secure  your copy of the book please contact at this email:
kalseysurjeet@hotmail.com
Tarlochan Publishers, Chandigarh, India.Watch for the coming book launch and reading dates..

Aurat_Kav_1

Click  Aurat Kav  to read in Punjabi

Woman_Poetry

 

A hole in her heart.

 

This is her heart -

soft like flower and hard like steel

woman has a hole in her heart

carrying from generation to generation

she cannot say what she wants to

she cannot feel in her mind and body

what is not allowed for her to feel.

 

Her heart thinks

and her conscious mind feels

she is a  miracle of the nature!

She blooms like the first crux

of the spring and her smile

being unaware of the traditions

gets plucked and

trampled under the feet.

She stops right there

in the footprint of time

and is reminded that

she has a hole in her heart.

 

She was given a gift of being a woman

when she opened her eyes for the first time 

and saw the light and heard

the very first words:

“Again we have got a stone not a heir!”

 

Bad omen for the mother that

she did not give birth to a son

and bad luck for the baby girl

that a hole was drilled in her heart

by the tradition

and the mother put her hand

on her own chest and said

“I also have a hole in my heart,

and my mother too

and my mother’s mother too…!”

 

 

 

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Foot Prints of the Silence that become the pages of history.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://surjeetkalsey.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/aurat-kav.pdf

Aurat_Kav_2

A poem by Surjeet Kalsey

View this poem in PDF by clicking the link below:
Aurat_Kav_2

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Ahimsa

During 2011 many visitors were searching poems on non-violence or violence against women. My book Aaurat Shabad & Shakti presents many poems about women their virtues and their uniqueness. Poems reflect woman as a symbol of capacity, capability and calm when respected and loved.

.Non-Violence is the way of life, says Buddha:

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Bamboo Trees!

 

From a baby little girl

to young beautiful bride

to mother to grandmother

women fly on their dreams.

Women are angels -

gifted with wings

glide with the wind

move with the waves.

When the blows of harsh words

break the wings of dreams

we simply continue our flight

silently, journey never ends.

We keep on flying

on the wings of imagination

moving along the wind

we are like  bamboo trees!

Dreams are just dreams!

When reality hits the heart

it bleeds inside the body

not happen to us: dreaming!

Soft mask of fresh smile

we put on our lips each morning!

As if the dark nights were only in the dreams!

The bamboo trees dance with the wind!

 

To Mother’s Day

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Mother I will be born again!

 I look into the mirror

a history shrieks at my back

I carry the ruins of the civilization.

Every woman does. Every mother does.

 

I look into your eyes: the darkness

life perhaps is walking dead

through me and someone tells me:

                        you shouldn’t be

                        shouldn’t be alive.

 

This is a night before,

this is a moment before

I allowed myself

                        to be scraped out

                        of your womb,

my unformed

unborn shreds of tiny body.

 

The devil of tradition

takes over and hovers upon you

the very moment

you conceived me.

They say they see a devil

in a pregnant body,

fearful of the unknown

demand only male air

which sometimes they

themselves don’t have

in their male body.

How easy it is to play ignorant

and blame a woman for

not delivering a male child!

 

History laughs.

Nothing has changed

between now and then

from the ancient midwife’s

making the newborn baby girl

suck her poisonous thumb

to see her unborn body

through ultrasounds and

wash her out. Difference?

Only it looks more accurate,

more sure, professional,

and six months time saver.

 

After I opened my eyes

for the very first time

in the day light

I found myself alive

pulsating, and  crying.

Only after sucking on

the poisonous thumb

I was declared a dead-born!

 

Now it has changed.

I am not even allowed

to be born.

Sex-selection labs,

testing and selecting

        the only sex: male!

considering female foetus

as sub-human demon

her right to be born

            is taken away!

 

Traditional bound parents

find  a relief in aborting

their female air.

They earn an other chance

a privilege to try again

until they get it ‘right’.

 

Mother, I feel your sighs

inside your womb

I sipped your salty tears

inside your womb.

You know this sanctuary

this sacred place you offer

for both male and female

is safe temple for me.

Over a span of time

and countless loathings later

I will come again.

I will be born again and again.

I will dwell in this sacred place again!

Don’t you worry mother!

I will be there again!!

You know, I know

if we keep vanishing ourselves

the day is not far  away

when the human race

will no longer be there!

 - A poem by Surjeet Kalsey

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