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naked and in love

while i know i've posted a couple of songs here, i don't think i've ever flogged 'naked and in love'. so here goes.

'naked and in love' (also NAIL) is three of us, reuben, sanga and me, who used to write together in our university years. we had no way to record then, though we did dream of doing so someday. then i left shillong, and never really went back. in 2008, a little before leaving for aotearoa NZ, dee and i made a quick trip to shillong. in the time it took us to get there,  roob had pushed hard enough that we'd got a name for the project, and decided to record. while we did manage to make it to the studio for some of it, most songs were recorded squashed up in roob's bedroom, between infinite cups of red tea and qwai. 

and this is the result. 

'zama left today'  was the only song written (together) during that intense one week, the others are all from back in the day. feedback, as always, is welcome. 

where is the sea

the sky is cold

nibbling at my edges
the earth is hard
chewing at my feet

where is the sea
all soft
and warm
and final

where is the sea
all soft
and warm?

panacea

one part sunshine
two parts sea
stir
sip
gargle
spit

repeat.

my brother's eater

cutting labels

so we sit
and throw our tantrums
crying like spoiled children;
stupidly
noisily
impolitely
screaming
screaming
for justice.

while the mai-baap* government
plods steadily on
grand as a sunset
and inevitable
as death.

My sister and I can't have been very old when we started cutting the labels off our jeans. While it may seem like teenage defiance, I have graduated to cutting (visible) labels off my shirts, and recently, a new pair of shoes. We liked the quality of the denim, but damned if we were going to wear someone else's name on our butts. In the years since I left Shillong, I have been mistaken for South American, Malaysian, Indonesian, and more recently Samoan, Tongan, Fijian and South African. In the light of the recent actions of the Indian government with relation to the Bhopal Gas tragedy and the fiasco of the court passing judgement, the war on tribal land for bauxite and coal, and now the repulsive Civil Nuclear Liability Bill...I am almost glad I do not wear my Indian identity on my face.

Bhopal is the classic story of corporate cost-cutting gone wrong, though it has only really gone wrong for the people who were and are being affected by the terrible gas leaks of 2-3 December, 1984. Warren Anderson is free to enjoy his millions, safe in the knowledge that neither the Indian nor the american governments have the balls to go after him. And with Dow Chemicals taking over the assets (but *not the responsibilities) of Union Carbide the shareholders were taken care of too. I, for one, would have been stunned if the courts had actually made anything more than a token effort at justice, seeing how the CBI has been trying to get poor Anderson off the hook for years, and how it was the Indian Government that let the bastard leave the country in the first place, after they had arrested him for manslaughter.

And then comes the Civil Nuclear Liability Bill. As if it were not enough to demonstrate that large American Corporations would have no real trouble from our police or judiciary, the government (by the people, of the people, for the people) has decided that this might as well be made law. The insurability of an American Corporation, you see, is SO much more important than putting in realistic controls to make sure they are not over-burdened with financial claims should the equipment screw up. Capitalist exploitation at its beautiful best, the profits without the responsibility.

I have little understanding of politics, much less of economics. However it doesn't take a degree in biology to realise you are being raped; by the same government (by the people, of the people, for the people) that is supposed to protect you. I wish the stranglehold of corporates and national governments over our lives was as easily removed as the labels from our clothes. But here we stand, in the curious position of a person sold into slavery, not knowing whom to hate more- the bastards that sold you, or the bastards that bought.

NB: Cut a label...sign the petition against this bill.

*mai-baap=father-mother, a role many see the government as playing, particulary in the imperialistic scheme of things.

thinking aloud@read raw

we went, at a friend’s suggestion, to a theatre event called Read raw. i know little about theatre, and have gone to half a dozen plays in my life, most of which i enjoyed. Read raw was definitely a ‘different’ experience though, and one that’s really got me thinking.

the format is simple enough- a play’s script *read to an audience, not acted. from what i understood, the actors have the freedom to decide whether they would like to do a bit of ‘acting’ instead of just reading the plays aloud. while it is a ‘public’ event, open to anyone, the audience is small- last night must have had about 30 people. there is no ‘stage’ as such, just some empty space at the front of the room, and no mics. the play is read/performed, and the playwright and director and actors have a bit of a conversation with the audience.

i really enjoyed this format for two reasons. for one, this further breaks down the dividing wall between the writer and the audience, with many comments from the audience being on the lines of ‘you should have done it *this way’, or even ‘i don’t think that character/event was believable’. encouraged by the playwright, these comments acted as feedback, and i had a very strong sense that some of the comments were being incorporated into how the play would be staged next time. it was like watching a play half-written or half-rehearsed, and being able to actually contribute to the continued making of it.

the second reason i really liked this format was the simplicity and cost effectiveness. there were no sound systems or expensive setups. it was held in the foyer of a theatre building, but i imagine any largish room would do, as long as the actors can be heard. it was free for the audience, and i think this event has some funding, though it seems possible to do something similar without the funding too.

the plays were well worth a watch, and though we didn’t participate vocally in the discussion, it gave us much talk material for later. and while i do not feel ‘qualified’ to critique the plays, the discussions were an interesting insight to how people think, particularly how we ask questions.

it seems a pity to me that we seem to need to constantly compare the world of the play to our ‘expectations’ of life and our surroundings. for instance, there was some discussion about whether a manic-depressive would behave the way one of the actors did, a comment about a doctor’s assertiveness etc. i personally feel that the internal logic to the piece is primary, and not so much whether it conforms to ‘reality’ as we think we know it.

there was also this odd need to label, and therefore pin down the ‘what’ of something. while the playwright in one play had written in some behaviours for a character, the actor needed to label it ‘manic-depressive’ to understand and so to communicate the character. another instance was a discussion about whether the play should be a farce or a comedy. while i do understand (and appreciate) the value of labels as indicators and as comprehensible and therefore communicative symbols, i’m not sure either of these helped (me at least) in any way.

all in all a thoroughly enjoyable evening, thanks to everyone involved!