Dipalle Parmar and Open Space-Pune, India

Organizer: Dipalle Parmar and Open Space

Contact: dipalle@gmail.com

Sat, 18th Aug 2012 – Sambhaji Park
Sat, 1st Sept 2012 – Poona Station
Sat, 8th Sept 2012 – Café
Sat, 22nd Sept 2012 – Municipal School
Sat, 29th Sept 2012 – (Hall) Final World Event

P.S- Please keep visiting this page or join me on face book to know more –
http://www.facebook.com/dipalleparmar

POEMS AND NOTES FROM MADHAVI SOOD
sood 

Photos from Madhavi Sood

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13 Responses to Dipalle Parmar and Open Space-Pune, India

  1. Chalo ik din aisa karte hai
    Tum kisi masjid mein jaa baitho
    Main kisis mandir se ho kar aata hoon
    Phir kisi chowrahe pe milenge
    Apni apni ungliya kaatkar
    Dekhenge
    Kahin hamare lahoo ka rang badal to nahin gaya?
    Agar badal gaya to phir
    Sadiyon tak mandir-o-masjid ki eet-patharo se
    Ek dusre ka sar phodte rahenge
    Aur agar nahi badla
    To phir
    Baithenge
    Gayenge
    Naachenge
    Eid manaenge
    Diwali manaenge
    Aur sochenge…
    Magar ek dusre ke saat-saat
    Chalo ek din aisa karte hain…

    By Fahim Siddiqui read by his daughter who is a theater director in Pune – Hina Siddiqui

  2. More poets who read on the 8th Sept 2012 in Pune –

  3. 100 Thousand poets for change saw yet another vibrant and sensitive poets turn out at Malaka Street in Pheonix Market City, last evening.

    The invited poets Anand Thakore, Jerry Jhonson, Max Babi, Madhavi Sood read and shared the importance of poetry and the craft of writing, especially structure in classical poetry and free style poetry. Hina Sid, Apphia Kumar, Subhash Solomon, Sasan Bazgir, Shehzar , Huzaifa Pandit, Nuzhat Anwar read an Assammees Poem translated by her of Anindita Kalita who suffers from Non-sclerosis hypertension. Poems were read in Urdu and Assamees and Persian. The space was alive and elevated to an epiphany in no time and the turn out of over 35 poets and poerty lovers, change seekers and revolutionists strengthened the global drive for peace.
    Pictures coming up soon.

    Poems by Max Babi

    ‘Change’
    1. Change – an overview
    Change. Can seep in drop by drop
    Or blow up the status quo.
    Once in motion, it cannot stop
    The very system asks for more.

    2. Change – more views
    Change. The drive that through green fuse drives
    Also affects my own bone marrow
    The electric thought that first strives,
    tumbles out on streets wide or narrow.
    ——————————————————————–
    Change – an inner view
    We all know change is the only constant in life,
    everything else is in flux.
    Yet, we fear change, we abhor change, we recoil
    from the very word, change.

    Biology tells me my stomach lining changes fully
    in a matter of days, and every square millimetre of
    my skin, has been renewed in only 19 years…
    – infant, toddler, sprightly kid, morose teenager,
    bubblesome adolescent, harried middle-aged man,
    to a vastly improved model in my sunset years…
    I am living change,
    and yet I fear change.
    2. Change -around us

    The grog we breathe laden with toxins
    that could fell an elephant but not us,
    has to change to clean air.

    The pesticides we eat with our fresh fruits and
    vegetables that could have wiped out communities
    but we live, mutants or dullards, I don’t know,
    have to change.

    The fear that grips our innards with steel tentacles
    as we try half dead with anxiety, to cross a street,
    has to change too.

    The numbness that I feel when figures and statistics
    leap at me from the lifeless newspaper every morning,
    lessens me as a man in my own eyes,
    has to change too.

    While our skins die, bodies die, brains asphyxiate,
    and our souls slowly develop calluses,
    something has to change.
    As the child inside dies, we turn older and older,
    a good change would turn back the hands of the clock
    and make us land in a cleaner place.
    ==============================
    The white sheet in the canopy above,
    flutters like a faded mattress in shreds.
    Hues of blue peep out like small faces
    anxious for absent parents.
    Dark patches brood, as the wind unseen
    wields its potent brush, mixing with abandon,
    smatterings of dreams and nightmares.
    My eyes like renegade soldiers
    seem lost.
    ———————————————————

    1. The flaming red plastic crates,
    the bright green new leaves on old trees,
    the jade green canopies, the bright orange and white
    candy-striped awning – everything has faded.
    But it’s nothing you smile could not restore,
    superimposed upon the evil snicker of emptiness,
    that I claw at with my own weak flickers of a smile.

    2. A Muse should be like Mona Lisa,
    with a faint fixed unchanging smile,
    eyes mute but aware, body language
    frozen – those who react,
    show feet of clay.

    3. The strength of my feelings for you
    when in wordy garbs, with random tags,
    would be merely a costume for a desolate pantomime.
    I like relationships that defy labels,
    but persist like chronic fever, or,
    a nameless thirst.

    4. On the dumb racetrack of my psyche –
    shrewd grief has a headstart
    over giddy joy.
    (c) Max Babi
    =======================================================================
    [img]http://100tpcmedia.org/100TPC2012/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/DSC03479.JPG[/img]
    [img]http://100tpcmedia.org/100TPC2012/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/DSC03442.JPG[/img]
    [img]http://100tpcmedia.org/100TPC2012/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/DSC03406.JPG[/img]
    [img]http://100tpcmedia.org/100TPC2012/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/DSC03466.JPG[/img]
    [img]http://100tpcmedia.org/100TPC2012/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/DSC03422.JPG[/img]

    • In the photos you see from top- Anand Thakore , Max Babi along with Sasan Bazgir from Iran, Shehzar again from Iran studying in Pune University, Hina Siddique a theater director, Dipalle Parmar along with Madhavi Sood

  4. [img]http://100tpcmedia.org/100TPC2012/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/IMG_1398.JPG[/img]

    Priya Sarukkai Chabria and Max Babi, Poets from Pune

  5. Here are a few Photos from the 1st Spet 100-1000 poets for change event in Pune
    [img]http://100tpcmedia.org/100TPC2012/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/IMG_1400.JPG[/img]

  6. The 1st event kicked off with great enthusiasm.

    on 1st Sept 2012,
    at Sambhaji Park, a public park
    Today we had a great start to the movement. 30 poets and Be-Causers showed up, people in the park joined in too. Priya Sarukkai Chabria, Max Babi, Smita Sahay Karan and Myself read poems. We started with a Peace Chant by the Kurumba Shaman written by Randhir Khare. The group joined in the chorus of the chant. Firdaus Soni with Rajshree and Shrenik Mutha Sang and song. Mr Murti a bankar with a heart for change in the world read in Telegu and translated his poems in English. Mrs Lalitha Rao sand and read in Kanada and translated her poems in English. Young Debajyoti of Times of India spoke on Behalf of the current events that occurred with Assamees students and stole the show with his heart touching poetry. Anita Dube a radio news reporter read a womans poem in Hindi. Finally Yashodhara Robin eneded with a touching poem on change needing to begin at home…with you and me in our everyday lives. Saveri and Chaitali have gathered courage to read next time and so have some others…

    Here is one poem which was read by a young writer – Dibyajroti Sarma

    A Prayer for Water

    My skin like the bed of a parched river
    And a black thread around my waist
    My cracked heels like the tilled earth
    And, I do not have anything else.

    One day, I took refuge in water
    That sparkling tide was my
    Mother’s doleful eyes, those brown weaves
    Were my father’s trusting shoulders.

    The water here, crimson, like blood spattered on
    Red earth, isn’t the same which
    Fashioned the grave for my grandfather
    In another time, in another country.

    Where, after the circling waves of the ocean
    Claimed his prize, the land and everything else,
    My father, not yet a man, turned himself into
    A fish, and swam upstream, — looking for land.

    Here, the water sheltered us; the sweet, sweet
    Water of this gold, green land, and my father
    Was a man again, to command the sun, and to plant
    A sapling, supple and resilient, to withstand the flow.

    I was conceived inside the stem of a blue lily that
    Bloomed next to the field my mother nurtured, where
    Water was the blood on my veins, mother’s milk, the
    Frayed lungi I tied to my waist; water was my only guide.

    I was a floating hyacinth, violet and fragile
    And she, who fuelled my life, sprouted on my skin
    Like a green leaf, which was our feast, our waking
    Dream of a time when we will be free.

    Then the fire raged, and the hunters arrived, who
    Did not want the fragile beauty of the hyacinth, the
    Warmth of the fish, or the strength of water, but
    Everything dry and clean – man-made.

    That day, I took refuse in water,
    Not a fish like my father, but like a
    Floating log during the flood, which would be
    My impermanent grave, somewhere else.

    I couldn’t swim, and unlike my father, I had nowhere else
    To go. This water was my umbilical cord, this water was
    My oxygen, and now, my skin is a parched river, and a
    Black thread around my waist; I don’t have anything else.

    [While the issue of illegal Bangladeshi migrants, who came to settle down in the low-lying areas of rural Assam, surrounded by rivers, lakes and bogs, continues to be a topic of emotional political debate, no one seems to consider the fate of the migrants themselves, who, displaced of their own land, by cyclone, poverty and various other disasters, have nowhere else to turn to, even against the fear of death.]

    By Dibyajyoti Sarma
    TOI Pune

    • Kat Wahamaa says:

      What a beautiful work by Dibyajyoti Sarma . I would like to read it at our Rivers of Peace – Eco Arts Salon on September 29 in Harrison Mills British Columbia. May I?

  7. [img]http://100tpcmedia.org/100TPC2012/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/120812100000PoetsforChangeemailer.jpg[/img]

  8. [file]http://100tpcmedia.org/100TPC2012/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/120812100000PoetsforChange.pdf[/file]

  9. There has been a change in the dates. Please note:

    Sat, 1st Sept 2012 – Poona Station
    Sat, 8th Sept 2012 – Café
    Sat, 15th Sept 2012- Sambhaji Park
    Sat, 22nd Sept 2012 – Municipal School
    Sat, 29th Sept 2012 – (Hall) Final World Event

    Hope we come in crowds of thousands and thousands to make ourselves into one unified single voice. I am sure the world will sit up and take note.

    Cheers
    Dipalle Parmar

  10. Dear Poets of the world, Please Share your poems here so that you can be invited to read at the events being held in Pune.
    Please share poems related to :

    Gender & Identity
    Sexuality,
    Women’s rights,
    Discrimination,
    Violence against women.
    Human rights,
    Marginalisation,
    Borders
    Child Rights
    Caste-ism

    and email the same to me at dipalle@gmail.com

    The once selected can come to the following dates and venues to read along published poets of repute like
    Jerry Pinto, Jane Bhandari, Namdeo Dhasal, Menka Shivdasani, Priya Sarukai Chabria and more…

    Sat, 18th Aug 2012 – Sambhaji Park
    Sat, 1st Sept 2012 – Poona Station
    Sat, 8th Sept 2012 – Café
    Sat, 22nd Sept 2012 – Municipal School
    Sat, 29th Sept 2012 – (Hall) Final World Event

    P.S- Please keep visiting this page or join me on face book to know more –
    http://www.facebook.com/dipalleparmar

    Cheers
    Dipalle

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