“a Woman of Essence”- Dr Deepa Ram

verisimilitudo

a seemingly true actual reality

 One has varied desires interests, dreams, wants and has the freedom to acquire any  or all those but is one really free? While it’s true, i love to sing; i can sing any time i wish to, yet it is but a mere subjected mask…  i am enveloped  swallowed by cautiousness  to please others… it isn’t a pure freedom, i must perform clean render practice worry, anxious to conquer other’s passion race religion language nation, like the endless flow of sea waves in this vastness of the world. 

Because moi, singing for myself alone, would eventually be a boredom. Freedom goes hand on hand with conquering… be a fighter a survivor __ i need to feel i have captured, a victor… an inner victory that must be reached attained, to catch that silence of joy;  an essential attribute for innovation and originality, leaps and bounds.!

deepa final HD WOE 2019 photo

Dr. Deepa Ram is an Indian born, Australian poet, artist, lecturer and Scientist. Poetry, music and painting  was in her veins right from childhood, although she pursued Science as her profession. “Talents that I have nurtured, semi nurtured, not nurtured and unrealised… SELF… our pervasive consciousness, a creativity in motion, is the reservoir and ‘one tap’ to our spontaneous creative computer, it ebbs off in a turbulent chaotic ocean. Our subtle creative seeds need a still ocean to propagate as constructive ripples to manifest itself to a lush  forest.”                                

She did her schooling in India, and secured her phD in Chemistry. Later, she migrated to Australia where she currently works for Deakin College. She lectures Chemistry to students from around the globe, and actively engaged in Science Education research.

She was selected as one among the five best International Poet of 2016 by the World Union of Poets and has innumerable publication of poems in many global anthologies including The World Poetry Book and The World Peace Anthology. Her poems were recited in British radio podcasts. Her publication, The Inner Quiet was displayed at the Los Angeles Times Festival of books. She is also a vocalist and Veena player. She has also participated in many International art exhibitions, to name a few, Alliance Francaise in India, Index exhibition, World Trade Centre Dubai, Emirates Plalace, Abudhabi, and the New York Art Expo.

Deepa poetises:

Poetry

A natural endowment,

Creative or intellectual,

Artistic or technical,

Social or personal,

Perception of myself

Complex and hidden,

With metaphors plenty,

Open to be demystified..

Painting

Gifted from childhood 

With pigments and tools,

I am a tree

That grows quietly and slowly…

A painting for me,

As painful

As a sharp knife piercing my skin

And the locked up 

Walk out free…

A symbolic journey

From marshland of origin

Creeping to my psyche

As the birth of time…

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Music

A hereditary seed 

From womb

Dissolved in every cell

And as I breathe out 

Permeates 

to ignite a fire

in my low days…

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Science

An acquired mirth

Not pre-packed from birth,

My favourite best

Of zest and test..

It kicks a rebut

On my genetic butt

Of intellectual craving

And scientific learning…

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Deepa claims, “although science on a broader perspective deals with materialism, innovation and wellbeing, Iwas always fascinated by pure science faculties which capture imagination and nurture creativity. Poetry, painting and music is all about discovering and articulating my inner world. Two sides of the same coin, but with shared experience.”

I kiss the Earth
with my insane feet,
and the river of time
with my muddy lips..

My ears oscillate
to my incoherent breath,
my lungs inhale
my drunken pride..

The cure spells,
gates of moon,
spruce and swaddle
my monkey mind,
to a quieter ocean…

I mix water with air
in my dolorous ether,
make ash less carnage
of my flame of severance..

My inner light
accord with the Sun..

I realise..
My manifoldness is oneness!!

Philosophy 

A feigned oath, at the axis of exhale
A fervent tree, rooted on sun’s trail
both besmeared by the same brush
with chafed blood, sweat and flesh…

The world
A filthy porridge with leprous bones
meditating on holistic clones,
Its monstrous unjust waves
pronounce misspelled celestial phrases…

Quiet hollows in your ugly roots
Serpents disown
Worms devour…

Now the universe awaits
to drink my erupting volcanoes,
Taints of liberty, hyphenates
my reckoning maledictory tornadoes…

Day after day, time after time….

Love still hawking through the narrow ridge
Seasoned for another fudge
Let me grab your dusty hand
and crave the consented woodland…

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 Loneliness has put me in its own image. Having fun with my imaginary friends, I’m dying of self-esteem in my kulsitamāya singularity, the organic expression of truth and life. I was proud of the raṅgāviṣkāra of the fake human being, and followed the heroes of my race as a madness.

I was searching for me in the darkest parts of my rented house. I can hear the vibration of my blood in the flowing rivers. The useless hands that were blooming in the spiders of the trees that were blooming there were māṭiviḷiccukeāṇṭēyirunnu me. The tongue culture that praises my naked body knows the words that have been letter against me with the vyākulatakaḷēāṭe of a hunter. My kaṇṭhanāḷattile uminīർ kurukkukaൾ in black clouds. The violent winter that came out of the fake memory of the black sky made my dead flesh a black light.

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asked about Love:

Love just happens,

As a night of constellations

Far 

From the burning marrow..

As a green granary

Away

From the forest of delusions..

As a slow fire,

Abandoned

By gushing waterfalls..

As Sun

With dissolved images

On his wrinkled cheeks..

As a little bird

That feather and perches 

On my valley of ashes

A paradox 

In contrast….

asked about Life:

Deepa says, Life is a ceaseless attempt to attain freedom. We are enslaved to a multi armed demon within us, with thousands of arms of chronic thoughts, fear, lack of compassion, emotionless attitude, anger, jealousy, swollen feelings and shimmering insights deep rooted in every cell. We try to deny it, suppress it and hide it with an appealing expressive ‘I’. We feign it isn’t there and try to design and build a whole new culture and civilization to distract ourselves from this monster and to prove its nonexistence. But it never goes away. It remains as an inner noise in atomic form in our subconscious and manifest itself in perceivable subtle forms in all our actions and relationships. Realising this monster within us is our own key to absolute freedom and the road to a peaceful coexistence.”

Life

Is a 

Quest,
uncomfortable,
a ferry to inside..

Seeking new realms
of unanswered probes…
Aisles of the untrodden,
sky and the sea…
Expanse of wilderness
of bushes and weeds…
The nothingness,
camouflaged by ego…

My ferry is adventurous..

Why to refuse this call,
when my journey itself is home…

asked about Peace:

In the pause of a breath,
the inner emptiness

neither polluted nor pure,
that which neither appear nor disappear,
opens the window
to embrace life of imperfections
and endless delusions…

 

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A verisimilitudo, an accomplished being in her given freedom, she has  penetrated and has attained all  her desires, but at the end, still succumb  to the whiles of this world, her hopes her fears her imagination her perceptions, all  habits of sensibility are subjected  to customs traditions and values which have been handed down to the whole world commencing from our first parent. Blessed with the youth, the beauty, the health, the opportunity, the time the space, she has reached all her desires, yet she still has to smile and cry, talk and listen, allure contemporaries, bothers, sisters, friends, parents… to belong  to. Such irony; we determine what we want, the world determines how we handle it. Freedom in a sense is an abstract dream.

 

comments by: Dr Jernail S Aanand

critical analysis by: Prof. Cijo Joseph Chennelil

to follow upon publication

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