Poems by Eunice De Souza

Eunice De Souza's poetry is a sculpture carved in words. Such measured words, such incisive breaks, so much feeling and emotion. As if the smallest of movement in her life or around is acutely scrutinized for meanings one cannot see with the naked eye (you know what I mean, right?). Yet, there's never a moment of self-indulgence. There's always humour, and a readiness to laugh at everything absurd that's called life.

Don't Look for My Life in These Poems

Poems have order, sanity

aesthetic distance from debris.

All I've learnt from pain

I always knew,

but could not do.

-----

Eunice

Eunice, Embroidery Sister said

this petticoat you've cut

these seams

are worthy of an elephant

my dear

Silly bra-less bitch

Eunice is writing bad words sister

she's sewing up her head

for the third time sister

the limbs keep flopping

the sawdust keeps popping

out of the gaps

sister.

-----

Bequest

In every Catholic home there's a picture

of Christ holding his bleeding heart

in his hand.

I used to think, ugh.

the only person with whom

I have not exchanged confidences

is my hairdresser.

Some recommend stern standards,

others say float along.

He says, take it as it comes,

meaning, of course, as he hands it out.

I wish I could be a

Wise Woman

smiling endlessly, vacuously

like a plastic flower,

saying Child, learn from me.

It's time to perform an act of charity

to myself,

bequeath the heart, like a

spare kidney-

preferably to an enemy.

What Dreams Told Me Before I Lost Them

My dreams said -

Do not worry
About money
Or snob values.
You'll still have
Your bylines
To flaunt in dungy bars
while drinking
Piss for beer.

Expect the pinch,
They told me,
Shrinking wallets do that.
Just buy smart.
See, Garnier or Loreal,
Both will dye your greys
Just the same.

Apparently
The sacrifice will be sharp
But its after taste, better
Than the bitterness
Of my envy.

Homeopath Dr. Ramdas' Clinic, Bugle Rock Road

Electric-Elephants go Violently Blue

There’s an eerily joyful tone to Electric President’s third electro indie-pop album The Violent Blue. Funny thing is despite the dark, somber lyrics, you’d want to sing along. Perfectly charming. Vampirish.

Which means, if you are exploring original sounds, try The Violent Blue. Best in the track list is ‘Safe and Sound’ with its drum beats and claps, and acoustic strumming - Very professional improv triumphant stuff. Check out also ‘The Violent Blue’, ‘The Ocean Floor’, in fact, the whole album. Each track has an sound of its own, connected by Ben Cooper’s haunting voice.

Album at Spinner’s Listening Party – Electric President, The Violent Blue.

The Grill House

On a lighter note, had a fabulous dinner at The Grill House (the one next to The Park) and broke my resolution of staying away from red meat. It was all done for the greater good of my friend who had a sudden craving for steak. Alright, just before you judge me, let me add that my friend is a beef hating, non-steak person. Therefore, this sudden craving had to be given it due attention. Besides, we had to head towards town to drop off our rent cheques. Dang! that's the only unhappy blip on the radar right now.

Nevertheless, I suggest the Grill House for the perfect steak. A grill house can't do a steak wrong (or so we thought) and besides the restaurant seemed to have some good reviews. So off we went.

The restaurant sits down the road from Taj Residency and The Park just before the turn towards Ulsoor lake. It's smallish inside and can get quickly crowded, so I suggest you reserve a table in advance. It's cosy inside and the service is friendly. Despite reaching the restaurant late and being the only women customers didn't make it uncomfortable for us at all. We marvelled at that since our only-women experiences have been without some mishaps. TGIF anyone?

The food was everything and more than we expected. I must admit that I have not eaten better steaks in Bangalore than at The Grill House. Succulent meat perfectly marinated

I ordered the Pepper Garlic Steak, medium rare while my friend order the Mexican Mardi Gras Steak, medium well done. We ordered Lemon and Peach Iced Teas to go with it, though instead of the lemon they brought the strawberry.

‘The Good Wife’ – Who said engineering complex emotions in TV makes for boring shows?

Yes, we know the “platitude” of ‘sex sells’. In fact, most people know that. It doesn’t take a lot of insight to know that most programming on TV is cleverly disguised sex, skin and violence. They are all very entertaining; enthralling the audiences with stories of others. Throw in a bit sex to spice up the mood, tragedy to unite audiences in empathy and a wedding to celebrate the blessing of love. You have a slice of life animated with great aesthetic finesse to meet TRP ratings. However, these formulaic renderings do not take away from the cleverness of the show or its writers. Some of them ARE good.



But, it becomes very hard not to judge these clever disguises when a show like ‘The Good Wife’ comes along. ‘The Good Wife’ takes entertainment to the ranks of art with its quiet, enigmatic characters and brilliant actors. The storylines themselves are simple. Legal drama interspersed with the personal drama of its protagonist Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies). The genius lies in writing of the characters and Julianna’s portrayal of the forceful yet fragile Alicia.

Creators Michelle and Robert King’s “The Good Wife” comes in the wake of high profile sex scandals of powerful politicians, famously Bill Clinton and more recently Eliot Spitzer. Gratefully, we are spared more psychoanalysis of the red-faced politician and are taken to the privations of the humiliated wife. The wife here is no wilting lily but the very intelligent, strong and conflicted Alicia Florrick. When her husband Peter Florrick (Chris Noth) is forced to resign as State’s Attorney and sent to prison on charges of abuse of office and corruption, Alicia is left alone to front and support her family. Six months into the scandal, she has already found a place as a junior litigator in a prestigious law firm.

It's all been done before - legal drama, the underdog vs. the powerful, the victimised vs. the system etc. In those circumstances, Alicia’s character could have wilted under yet another “Superman” complex, had it not been for the impossibility of categorizing her. Who is Alicia Florrick? Is she the exacting, ruthlessly no-nonsense witness who can cut down the cross-examining lawyer to pieces in defense of her husband? Is she is the wronged wife? Is she the lawyer who is sensitive and thoughtful towards her clients? Is she the loving, practical mother who can be impervious to emotional blackmail? It’s the mark of very good writing when a fictional character cannot be assigned to adjectives.

But the credit of making it all real goes to Julianna Margulies, who effortlessly brings Alicia to life with measured talk, gentle lifts of her perfectly shaped brows and hard glints in her much suffered eyes. When asked to describe her character, Julianna says Alicia is a “cerebral” person, who thinks before she acts or talks. She adds, “I think she realises it is sink or swim and she has to take care of her children and put a roof over their heads. That's what matters and she's been at the worst, now it can only go up. I think it gives her a lot of strength that in a lot of ways she doesn't care what people think anymore because she already knows they think the worst.”

As the show progresses (it's a 23 episode season), we can’t wait to see what’s in store for Alicia in the finale and second season. On the personal front, there is the long legal battle of her husband who appears to have been set up. Will the courts release Peter out on bail? Is Alicia ready to have Peter back? Though she is very clear about the rules – stay in the maid’s room and no more cheating.

Professionally, she is already making a name for being a very clear headed, tough lawyer who will even to take on a judge to protect the right. She continues to surprise her peers and adversaries with her intelligence. Her hard nosed ethical stands have already pissed off some powerful people. That she will be successful is given. But how will she evolve? Will loyalty to her current employers trump her discomfort with the grey zones of her law firm? Or will she head off to start her own practice?

It’s gratifying to see more powerful and older women like Alicia or Anna Torv’s Olivia Dunham in television today, where the protagonist is not defined by her sexuality or wardrobe. In times of neurotic, frazzled and disillusioned women, comes Alicia Florrick who has won the admiration of audiences for her grace and stoicism even in the face of acute humiliation and defeat. And for that she has already won the battle.

Day Six, Zanskar Trek - Stayang to Lingshed

Stayang Chai Shop. C0urtesy Ani

It's day six of our trek and fatigue has finally set in. I can’t seem to be able to even get up or eat. Yesterday’s ‘Lion’s Pass’ really made a meal out of me. Incidentally, Sengge La means ‘Lion’s Head,’ and is usually impassable before June because of snow. Even yesterday, there are was a thick line of snow over the pass though mercifully our path had none. By the by, we walked only 31 mountain kilometres yesterday. One mountain kilometre, if it gently undulates, is two and a half plain kilometres. So, yeah, do the math.

Rajesh (our guide) and team are amused at our fatigued faces (what’s new about that), and tell us to hold up our chins. Today will be a “relatively” easy day and we won’t have to walk much though there are two passes to climb. I am really straining my intellect to understand which part of “climb” is supposed to be easy!

Climbing towards KiupaLa (14,600 ft)

Nevertheless, we fill our bottles from a mountain stream and are on our way. The other campers have already left and we follow the haphazard footprints of their mules. The path begins to climb only to go down and an hour later we can see the first pass of the day, KiupaLa (14,600 ft) looming ahead. Rajesh was right, the climb isn’t too difficult and we reach the chorten at the pass fairly soon. It’s really windy up there and I can barely stand straight, but the prayer flags look beautiful. I quickly chant the Tibetian-Buddhist mantra “Om Mani Padme Hum” and pray for the safety of the team. The climb down starts gently but we have been warned, it will be a steep descent. And it is! I have to force my body to resist the sheer momentum of the scree slope and hug the mountainside whenever mules coming down behind us. The narrow trail holds no place for two people let alone a loaded mule and a person. These mules incidentally are a mean lot and given a chance will insist on throwing me off the trail. Gah!

Chorten at KiupaLa

It gets worse when Rajesh insists Naveen and I take the shortcut to catch up with the android (Ani) who as usual has taken off. I reluctantly accept but ten steps into the path I start wailing and cursing Rajesh. “Why this trail? There is no path! It’s slippery! Am gonna fall! Are you mad? Are you trying to kill me?” And other such hysterical exclamations. Poor Naveen has to bear with me and tries to instil some confidence by praising my trekking boots. Their soles apparently have good traction. Apparently, I won’t keel over. Sigh!

I am not exaggerating. The descent is quite precarious and exposed at many points. The scree path is quite unlike any we have come across so far and it takes effort not to lose footing. I even slip at one point and fall on my arse. Luckily Ani, who is right behind me, helps me up. It takes us hour and a half to reach the bottom of a narrow valley where two streams meet. There’s a tea tent there though it is shut today.

Steep, scree slope coming down from KiupaLa. Courtesy Ani

The path from here starts climbing and it is quite steep though not as bad as our descent. Also, the trail is solid, though rocky in parts. I stuff my face with some Snickers bars and start climbing. A kilometre later, we come to another chorten and a tea stall. A huge group of firangs are coming from the opposite direction who, like the many we met on our trek, seem very fit and cheerful.

We continue to climb and the slope gets steeper though after an hour the path levels off, bends and drops before the final climb to the day’s second pass MargunLa Pass (14,370 ft). We are given a breathtaking view of the Lingshed village and its terraced fields nestled within the bowl of the mountains. The sight isn’t too different from my imagination of The Shire in Middle Earth. Did Tolkien ever come here?

Panoramic view of Lingshed village

The descent takes us another hour and it’s very dry and dusty. The sun beats on our backs though Ani and I make quick of the walk, making plans for future, more luxurious trips. Anything that will not involve walking!

Soon we reach the town of Lingshed looking like dusty-Yetis. Every part of my being is covered in thick layers of dust. There are dirt cakes under my nails and no amount of washing has helped so far. Our rucksacs look like they have been transporting dust. Our shoes are unrecognisable. Despite being on the mountains, I feel as if I have been trudging across the Thar or Sahara.

We plonk our dusty arses outside the bench of a closed shop, relieved over the day’s shortish walk. It’s barely 3 pm in the afternoon and is quite hot. The cook and his assistant are setting up the kitchen tent. I decide to take advantage of the sunny afternoon to wash six days worth of dirty laundry – a track pant & my mountain-hiking socks. Life’s so simple up on the mountains! Though the cold mountain stream stings!

Our tents are set. I have managed to take a semblance of a bath, though my dirt streaked thighs did make me shudder. Rolling out my sleeping bag, I am out in a lark. Ani meanwhile decides to accompany Rajesh to the nearby monastery. Incidentally, Lingshed is one of the ancient Buddhist centres of India, and the village is so remote that it takes four days of walk to reach a tarred road.

The day passes quickly. We can see the next day’s walk far near the horizon and I have started quaking in my boots already. The climb looks formidable. Rajesh tells us that it will take only three hours to get to the top from the base of the mountain. “Only”?! Sigh, tomorrow is another day. For now, I plan to pig on the delicious momos the cook has made for us.