Sun Salute

 International Yoga Day – Sun Salute!

21 June 2017  –First day of Summer is an International Yoga Day.  Sun Salute to all.

 

Yoga Mat

 

 

 

2017

o7.01.2017

 

Seven is a number having many shades

Seven are the colours of a rainbow

Seven stars form milky-way in the sky

 

Noble Silence

• Noble Silence

Seasons come and go
life goes on.

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Poetry Month

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Poem walks in the Deserted Streets at Night.

Fragrance of Spring Blooms Camellia smiles through my window the soft pink petals bloom the paths are covered with lilac lavender.

Two eyes look through the window
amazed at the benedictions of the nature.
I smell the fragrance of poetry blooming in April
as always and everyday a new poem
is being written on the petals of the flowers
and  on the fresh green leaves.

The two naked eyes of a woman can still see
through the parted curtains
through the iron bars of the traditions.

In this poetry season so many things
hang around on the tip of my pen

pulsating to form a poem:                                                                                                                       A woman is still being stoned somewhere                                                                           a woman is still being raped somewhere
a woman is being beaten to death somewhere

People are seeking freedom of thought
freedom of speech freedom to live                                                                                               seeking safety, respect and dignity                                                                                                   running for their lives                                                                                                                           disowning their countries                                                                                                                 seeking asylum from other lands                                                                                              drowning in the ocean on the way to freedom                                                                                   and dying instead.

Poetry month will go on and                                                                                                          many hearts wailing would go on                                                                                                       under the dark skies                                                                                                                                 a poem walks through the deserted places                                                                                         on the blood drenched streets of the city                                                                                             where every night shooting happens like fire crackers
and every night a number of young boys are injured                                                                    and one or two lost their lives….

I want to pen all the sadness and pain.                                                                                                 I want to tell the lamenting and crying mother                                                                                        whose heart bleeds with her young son                                                                                                             caught in between the cross-firing of madness                       if my words can stop her heart bleeding….

A new poem is being written                                                                                                          about all the centuries old issues                                                                                                  while thinking poetry in the moment                                                                                         frozen in the dead of the night
walking on the concrete sidewalk
I just stumbled on a big pothole                                                                                                        and fell backward landed on my right wrist.

And after… …                                                                                                                                               I could not even hold a pen in my hand                                                                                                   not even the mouse neither could I click                                                                                     with my fingers those letters                                                                                                               on the keyboard  to form a poem!

And the poetry month would be gone by                                                                                           leaving me with this incomplete poem and pain.

And the poem continues.

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8March

• 8 March – IWD

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Surjeet Kalsey’s poems for International Women’s Day

A Century of Our Struggle!
100 yeas of struggle:
women of the world marching on
continuously marching on
and keeping their struggle alive
for equality, respect and dignity!
Yet the destination is far far away
there were thorns and stones on the path!
Marching through centuries on the rough road
our hearts ache and our feet bleed with blisters.

Somewhere on the way we are lost!
As if we fail to feel the pain of another
of our own and stand against each other
making to feel insulted and ridiculed
in front of others in the crowd.
Still marching on the never ending path
women hold hands and many banners
marching endlessly together!
Sometimes we feel that we fail
ourselves, our own struggle, and
we ourselves squeeze our own blisters!
Shamelessly, nothing moves forward
we are still on the margin, we are
still being stoned, still being raped
the violence has not stopped
seems as if we have failed ourselves
and we are blamed for. The society,
the history, the trends, the attitudes
are still chanting Manu Simriti….
A century long history of our struggle
will continue to end our sufferings
Our sacrifices will continue to get freedom
from prejudices and offerings of humiliation.
Struggle will continue, March on! March on!

Voiceless Women
Yes, they are still sitting there
quietly waiting for someone
someone will come
and inscribe their fate
on their foreheads
or a stream of passion
would sprung up from within
or a straw would become a pen.

Women are sitting in the house
as if they are sitting on the street
without its floor without its door
but walls are still their retreat

Voiceless women live in this house
within these four walls
without its door, without its floor
quietly they wait for someone
would come and spread out
earth under their feet.

The tale they wanted to tell
that has become aged, stopped.
The tale is circling within circle
from ages and their voice is not heard
their eyes are lit like lamps
on their wrinkled faces – waiting
waiting and waiting someone will come.
Their story is being written in their wrinkles
they will bury their story with their bodies
or a straw would become a pen
or they would remain
voiceless even in this age.

Farmworker Women

(Dedicated to all those women
working in farms)

Women come and work in
the wide spread BC farms.
Smiling and energetic they come
from the land of Punjab
educated, uneducated, married
unmarried young and old
all become slowly and slowly
hard-working farm labourers!

From the land of the five rivers
soon women arrive to Canada
they work in the farms every where.
Many of them are attracted to
Fraser Valley ornamented with
sharp rich colours of raspberry,
blue berry and strawberries.

Brides take off their gold and silk
come wearing t-shirts and jeans
with soft henna coloured palms
women come with holding babies
women with pre-schoolers
women with grandparents
women with old in-laws and
some with old parents
and aunts and uncles
women with large families.
Women work around the clock
their hands work non-stop
in the fields of raspberry
blueberry and strawberry.
Women pick mushrooms
cut broccoli and sprouts
marshy land is under their feet
under the rain of pesticide
their hands get blisters
their feet get swollen
their eyes become watery
they breathe on fumes
and their arms, necks and faces
get infected with killer pesticides.
Working the soil they become soil.
Women work day and night
their hands work non-stop.
Longer hours more than dawn to dusk
women work and get tired
come back with aching feet and hands
when are taken back to their homes
in a stuffed van of a contractor
where they can not even breathe.
Working women, labourers, they just work !

They come back home late at night
tired and then they start home-shift –
cooking for their hungry children
for their men, for their large families.
they wash everybody’s dirty dishes
and do everybody’s laundry.
Women take care of everybody
– crying hungry or sick children
Women look after everybody’s needs
remain unaware of their own needs
women go to bed vary late
after everybody’s gone to bed
and after making preparations
for everybody tomorrow’s work
and they have to get up very early
before the first ray of the sun rises
and get ready to go to the farms again.

Farmworker women are brave- Zindabad!

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8 March
INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY

International Women’s Day stands for women’s unity and one voice all over the world. From the beginning of the 20th century, many women in industrially developing countries were entering the paid work force. Their jobs were gender segregated, mainly in textile, manufacturing and domestic services, where conditions were horrible and wages worse than depressed. These conditions ignited many industrial disputes, involving both unionized and non-unionized women workers.

On March 8th 1857, women, working in the clothing and textile factories in New York, held demonstration against 12-hour working day, low wages and terrible working conditions. This demonstration was broken up when the police was called in. Less than three years later, these women formed their union. Following this success, women in many places organized themselves and become unionized to get equal pay and better working conditions, although even 50 years after their demands remained the same—shorter working hours, higher wages and better working conditions.

In 1910, a socialist women’s conference was held in Copenhagen, Denmark and March 8th was proclaimed “International Women’s Day” to commemorate the common struggles of women and to show solidarity and support for garment workers in their fight for higher wages and better working conditions.

In 1911, International Women’s Day was celebrated for the first time in USA, Austria, Germany, Denmark and Switzerland. As the years went on, women in more and more countries gathered in ever increasing numbers on March 8th, not only to celebrate But also to protest against their oppression.

Today, women celebrate this Day all over the world. International Women’s Day is the day when women gather to rise strong, and to fight for their common cause and rights.

Today International Women’s Day allows women and men all over the world the opportunity to reflect on women’s progress, celebrate their efforts and acknowledge the work that is yet to be done.

Doesn’t matter where we are, doesn’t matter how far we have go, get involved, just do something to mark the day. Some suggested activities to celebrate IW Day such as:

*Organize women’s festival during the week of March 6-12 or later. Use theatre, poetry, dance, film. Paintings, photos, crafts, food, music, comedy, or any combination of activities to celebrate women and their creativity.

*Host an IW Day get together lunch, inviting women from multicultural background and sharing ethnic food with each other.

*Organize and information fair—invite women’s groups, community organizations and service providers to set up information tables at your event.

Lohri

 

. ਲੋਹੜੀ: ਪੋਹ ਦੀ ਅਗ਼ਨ (ਨਾਟਕ)

.ਹੁੱਲੇ ਨੀ ਮਾਏ ਹੁੱਲੇ/ ਦੋ ਪਤੱਰ ਸ਼ਰੀਂਹ ਦੇ ਝੁੱਲੇ, ਹੁੱਲੇ/ ਦੇ ਮਾਏ ਲੋਹੜੀ, ਜੀਵੇ ਤੇਰੀ ਜੋੜੀ/ਪਾ ਮਾਏ ਘਿੳੁ, ਜੀਵੇ ਬੱਚਿਆਂ ਦਾ ਪਿੳੁ/ਬਣੀ ਰਹੇ ਤੇਰੀ ਜੋੜੀ/ਦੇ ਮਾਏ ਲੋਹੜੀ/ ਹੁੱਲੇ ਨੀ ਮਾਏ ਹੁੱਲੇ/ ਦੋ ਪਤੱਰ ਸ਼ਰੀਂਹ ਦੇ ਝੁੱਲੇ, ਹੁੱਲੇ/ ਦੇ ਮਾਏ ਲੋਹੜੀ…….

ਲੋਹੜੀ: ਪੋਹ ਦੀ ਅਗ਼ਨ ਨਾਟਕ ਪੜ੍ਹਨ ਵਾਸਤੇ ਕਲਿੱਕ ਕਰੋ:

Read Surjeet’s Punjabi Stage Play: ‘Poh de Agan’
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11.11.Remembering

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Thanksgiving Day! Remembering those who sacrificed their lives for freedom and honour.                                                                                            

 

 

ਜੌਹਨ ਮੈਕਕਰੇ (1872-1918) ਦੀ ਬਹੁਤ ਹੀ ਮਸ਼ਹੂਰ  ਕਵਿਤਾ

“ਫਲੈਂਡਰ ਦੇ  ਖੇਤਾਂ  ਵਿਚ”