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PJ Poesy May 2016
}I{
“Sinuhe”

King Khety is blinking madly
Haruspex has left him ominous oracle
Sinuhe is on his return, fugitive no more
Sinuhe brings with him enemy’s daughter
Not prize, Nefru his wife and Libyan lore
Sinuhe from slavery came, poet she did adore

Egyptian tombs do tell in detail
Hieroglyphic tales, this juncture of peril
Khety not King, but Sinuhe’s noble brother
Knows true King come to claim throne
Sinuhe the nobler, knows a life of none other
Than slave sold by Odious, the step-mother

Yes Queen Odious, deep in den of asps
Collected poison venom to undue her marriage
To Sinuhe’s father Merikare, Pharaoh of Moon
Odious’ ghastly act nearly tore Egypt in two
Her derangement sent Sinuhe far across sand dune
Odious took crown, added gilded teeth of baboon

Made her son King, though he did implore
Khety saw insanity and for what, he was in store
Khety remembers his Great Father’s words
“The heart of someone who listens to his temper
Is doomed to follow the stink of camel herds
Better to let heart fly upon sky, as do birds”

Yet by years tormented, Khety became undone
More like his mother and even more sniveling
Than the Odious one, so he did as he was told
Incessant dribbling marked a life for him
He minded his words lest he knew he’d be sold
Mother’s high priest Abhorus was bitter and cold

Sinuhe’s struggles were unknown to King Khety
Years of near starvation and wearisome labor
Made Sinuhe the better man, as he did never forget
Assurances of his noblest Father, Pharaoh Merikare
Virtue ascribed, Sinuhe kept valor in each trial met
Furthermore, his noblest task still to come as of yet



}II{
“Numidian Queen”

Nefru, Numidian Queen to Land of Libya
Recalls young slave Sinuhe’s hostility to captivity
His intelligence overcoming, who once would be King
Of Egypt had not violent arm but ferocious mind
Using wit to overcome adversity and words he did sing
To free his self of internment and all oddity it did bring

Nefru looks upon loyal husband Sinuhe
It is an arduous journey this man has taken
Her commitment be bound now by ivory ring
Loyalty to this man before all forsaken
It is spring, and amongst abundant life come dead things
Fledgling birds first flight failed or so siblings did fling

Now swept into his pilgrimage, Nefru perceives
All adversity Sinuhe did overcome so nobly
To her, he is chukar, partridge of rare plumage
It is to the ground, which this bird be bound
Never reaching sky, low brush be its’ *******
Though its’ song give to her heart an anlage

Freedom from slavery, is Sinuhe’s triumph
Vindication of crown be the mark of new flight
He prays to Horus Behudety, Winged Sun God
Nefru knows of her husband’s will and might
She gifts to him her father’s pinioned golden rod
Scepter of enslaver Mehru, and his feathered shod

It was not of great agreement by Mehru
Should his daughter Nefru marry a slave?
Much less to son of Merikare, an arch enemy
Yet he be so brave, impressions of Sinuhe’s strength
Be made so to change, very nature Sinuhe’s destiny
So much so, Mehru did lament in Merikare’s elegy

So it came to be, a slave marries Queen
Sinuhe and Nefru’s love broke all patterns
Such a love to win hearts of, Gods and Goddess’ unseen
Who rule other worlds and all rings of Saturn
History had never known affection so purely clean
Gatherings from far off fields came to witness such glean



}III{
“Haruspex And Detritus”

Haruspex, soothsayer speaks in half-truths
King Khety believes only small contingent
Be on way to Byblos, presently approaching Qedem
Little does he know, armies of Elephant in tow
Masses of feathered and golden archer’s stem
Blessed by breath of Bat, Goddess and her phlegm

Detritus, Animal Man, hired scout to King Khety
Possesses claws and hair of lion, his home Serengeti
Animal Man’s mane is thrashed in thorns and rubble
Smells of cat ***** but has nose that knows much
Such why Detritus be tolerated, though be much trouble
Haruspex twists tale of tailed man, speaks of him double

Calls him lazy, shiftless, yet Haruspex be cryptic mess
Detritus be banal yes, but true to Khety none the less
Knew his father well, Merikare be his master
It was always Queen Odious, Detritus distrusted
Knowing her demonic betrayal and Egypt’s disaster
She kept him in gypsum cave, scratching alabaster

Kindness had left this Kingdom sometime ago
When Odious and Abhorus overthrew rule
Merikare Moon Pharaoh mummy cry from tomb
Sinuhe ripped from his side by Abhorus
His funeral a very mockery and Detritus’ doom
Haruspex made way from Libya, eyes mucous rheum

Planted by Mehru, Haruspex be sent through desert
King of Libya be wise, sent this oracle as disguise
Not soothsayer at all but spy of opposition
King Mehru knew upon Moon Pharaoh’s death
Peace upon land would not soon come to position
Quickly he sent Haruspex, strangest magician

Detritus knew by the first smell of him
Haruspex came from earth west, not with best
Intentions to natural order of land and sky
And this test of two egos be quite perplexed
With each other and another reason why
This brawny epic riled through years gone by



}IV{
“Ode ‘O’ Odious”

Motioning her battalions, priests and beasts
Evil Queen who overthrow, joins Abhorus’ feast
Beldams be this clergy, **** all about Odious
Snapping of rabbits heads in cacophony of blood
Plunking chalices of malice’s, sacrifices melodious
All in dark chamber halls in depth’s commodious

Stretching of intestine to fine tune harp
Butchers waylay innards with daggers sharp
Mawkish music be Odious’ fame
Concavity’s entrance a perilous scarp
Passers-by enticed by bergamot oil’s flame
Fall to their death to be eaten by dame

Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
Drunken mayhap through day and nightcap
She rumpus muck, she ruckus all luck
Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
Chambers fill with all matter of bile guck
Bites cobra tails, hooded heads protrude to ****

Death be her power to innocence’s pain
Queen Odious oblivious to her own danger
Seems unstoppable to submissive subjugates
Spinning her terror, cackle calls to maidens
Fem ferocious, how ‘O’ Odious undulates
Casualties collected in long hundredweights

Probity of her high priest be none
Abhorus puppets Odious and will be done
With her second rare blue water lilies run out
The Nile produces this flower of intoxication
Extinction of it is of all certainty, no doubt
Named after her, O Odious flora beguiles lout

Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
It is Evil Sorceress and midnight blue flower
Power of it be all in her high flighty head
She misuses its’ tincture to her own final hour
Harvesting it foolishly, nearly till it is dead
And when it is, it will be to all worlds’ dread



}V{
“Oasis In Iaa”

Sinuhe receives word elephants parched
Water need be found, arduous trek campaigned
Nefru never witness such worry, Sinuhe’s face
Ox tail be split to drain nourishment from beasts
No water for miles, no sea birds upon sky to trace
Sinuhe prays, “Montu, God of War find oasis to race!”

Sekhmet, Archer Goddess visits Nefru
Great Lady is besieged by dessert’s spell
Hallucinations bring mirage to Nefru’s sight
Transfixed on dessert’s horizon her eyes
Contingents warriors, bands of archer’s fright
Paths set forth, only to journey by starlit night

At dawn Sinuhe strands his band
Takes his most devoted men of arms
Bhaktu, Parsi, Rhaktu, follow their Lord
Each having faith in man and his wisdom
Eastward they find Syrian tribe in horde
They are welcomed, none need draw sword

Master of Syrian tribe Abu Sefa
Understands who Sinuhe is and was
Orders falconers to find Nefru and throng
Apprises Sinuhe of oasis beyond hummocks
All are soon joined together in wine and song
Oasis found, Iaa, fruited land and lagoon long

Khety is warned of revelry in Iaa
Sends legions Egyptian arms, by order Odious
Anubis, jackal head God given zebra sacrifice
Detritus employed for battle with spears
Copper shields, mediocrity will not suffice
All swords be sharpened by order thrice

Lifeblood battle of Egypt ensues
Sinuhe taken off guard in Iaa,
Elephant screams to be heard for miles
Bhaktu cut down, Rhaktu not found
Parsi’s archers never saw such trials
From lagoons come seething crocodiles



}VI{
Twist Of Fate

Rensi was chosen by Abhorus to speak for Khety
As High Priest, Abhorus did most doling of employs
This proxy Rensi though, be mockery of King
His speech more stammered than Khety’s noise
Grossly disfigured as well, soundings as mice sing
Rensi aware of this, musters all dignity he may bring

Perigee moon at present, o howling now
Hyena laughing at dissertation of Khety’s proxy
Ill ease overcomes this Rensi, an impediment
Speech undone on terrestrial stairs to Memphis
Escalades flora, fauna; monsoons washing sediment
Tefnut, great rain goddess turns world to excrement

This not so illustrious disquisition muted
By torrent winds and torrential liquid compounds
Tefnut’s tears plunk upon all, turning mud blood
Looking out from his great house Khety embroiled
Bares soul to Sobek-Re, Crocodile God; Sun and Crud
Sobek-Re answers prayer, suspending flash flood

In Iaa, as gore of battle ensues, fate lose
As twist of tale find new bemuse and worlds infuse
Detritus sees his lost master Sinuhe encroaching peril
This recognition swells an emotion deep and confuse
Detritus bent in memories flash reacts nobly not feral
With a roar to be heard over all, clamor become sterile

Sounds of battle cease and gaze of majesty
Sinuhe seeing Detritus is overcome by sensibility
Two old beloved friends stare upon each other
Dragging swords behind each move to indemnity
Embrace of each other; secures allegiance another
Sinuhe kisses feet of Detritus; calls him “brother”

As witness to such, all weary legions unite
Moon turn blue, assured sign of Pharaoh Merikare
Mehru’s star battalions federate Moon Pharaoh’s armies
Together as one to Memphis they shall siege Khety
Overthrow Queen Odious and her sinister parties
This mainly being High Priest Abhorus’ autocracies



}VII{
Epitaph Of Detritus

Odious in lair drinks tinctures blue water lilies
Abhorus her advisor suggests only more intoxicants
Khety is shrilling at sight of this deceptive lure
Haruspex makes prophesy of Detritus’ betrayal
Khety sends hunters to trace Animal Man’s spoor
Abhorus finds more legions of archers to procure

Leaving Iaa and moving toward Memphis
Detritus is fitted by Nefru’s maidens new armor
Embroidered with gold, a striped khat is made to adorn
Detritus is humbled by Sinuhe and Nefru’s gifts
His body is perfumed and oiled; his mane then shorn
Beholden to the true King of Egypt, Detritus is sworn

Two men of different lands, both once slaves
Overcome their adversities and rise upon sun
Sinuhe and Detritus’ bond is legitimately noble
Wearing of these worlds bare them new providence
Seemingly this union appears fortuitous global
Keeping steadfast of Abhorus’s archers now mobile

In Sakkara, south of Memphis come tempest
Raining arrows as if raindrops, Sinuhe’s challenge
Detritus’ valor finds reckoning to his last will
Defending Sinuhe, Detritus falls to cumulating
By strength this virtue witnessed, Sinuhe rise still
Throwing down legions of archers, making his ****

Abhorus, Odious, and Khety with no troops left
Surrender to Sinuhe upon his return to Memphis
Odious drinks last vials blue lily tincture, expires
Abhorus struck dead by hand of Khety in resolve
Khety bows to Sinuhe and his Queen as requires
King Sinuhe , Queen Nefru read parchments and fliers

In honor of great Detritus and his noble deeds
Commissioned is greatest sculpture Animal Man
During its’ long construction, most joyful jinks
Song and dance to honor a great warrior true
Each artisan so proud to have heritage to links
Of Animal Man, Detritus, now known as Sphinx
This is my adaptation of The Tale Of Sinuhe. It is the oldest known work of Egyptian literature. This epic poem was written by me with the intent of creating a puppet opera. I hope to collaborate with other poets, musicians, artists and puppeteers to see this come to life. Between each chorus should be arias which embellish the plot and theme. If you may be interested in working on this piece, please let me know via private message. I hope to make it a collaborative work.
Bintun Nahl 1453 Mar 2015
Hinanya Kematian Mustafa Kemal Attatürk yang Dikenal sebagai ‘Bapak Modernisasi Turki’ dari perspektif Barat, dia sebenarnya adalah tokoh yang meng’sekuler’kan dan ‘membunuh’ syiar Islam di Turki. Siapa lagi jika bukan Mustafa Kemal Attatürk yang diberi gelar Al-Ghazi (orang yang memerangi). "Attatürk" berarti "Bapak Orang Turki". Attatürk adalah orang yang bertanggung jawab meruntuhkan Khilafah Islam Turki pada tahun 1924. H.S. Armstrong, salah seorang pembantu Attatürk dalam bukunya yang berjudul Al-Zi’bu Al-Aghbar atau Al-Hayah Al-Khasah Li Taghiyyah telah menulis: "Sesungguhnya Attatürk adalah keturunan Yahudi, nenek moyangnya adalah Yahudi yang pindah dari Spanyol ke pelabuhan Salonika". Golongan Yahudi ini dinamakan dengan Yahudi "Daunamah" yang terdiri dari 600 keluarga. Mereka mengaku beragama Islam hanya sebagai identitas, tetapi masih menganut agama Yahudi secara diam-diam. Ini diakui sendiri oleh bekas Presiden Israel, Yitzak Zifi, dalam bukunya Daunamah terbitan tahun 1957. Attatürk mengubah ucapan Assalamualaikum menjadi Marhaban Bikum (Selamat Datang), melarang menggunakan busana Islam dan sebaliknya mewajibkan memakai pakaian ala Barat. Dalam tempo beberapa tahun saja, dia berhasil menghapuskan perayaan Hari Raya Idul Fitri dan Hari Raya Idul Adha serta melarang kaum muslim menunaikan ibadah Haji, melarang poligami dan melegalkan perkawinan wanita muslim dengan non muslim. Dia membatalkan libur pada hari Jum'at, melarang adzan dalam bahasa Arab dan menggantinya dengan bahasa Turki. Tindakan yang dilakukan oleh Attatürk ini nyata sekali telah memisahkan budaya Turki dari akar agama Islam dan menghapuskan Islam sebagai agama resmi negara Turki. Attatürk berusaha keras untuk menghancurkan para penentangnya. Dia membakar majelis-majelis, menangkap para pimpinan majelis dan juga mengawasi para ulama. Attatürk pernah menegaskan bahwa “negara tidak akan maju kalau rakyatnya tidak cenderung kepada pakaian modern”. Dia menggalakkan minum arak secara terbuka, mengubah Al-Quran yang kemudian dicetak dalam bahasa Turki. Bahasa Turki sendiri diubah dengan membuang unsur-unsur Arab dan Parsi. Attatürk mengubah Masjid Besar Aya Sofia menjadi gereja dan setengahnya untuk musium, menutup masjid serta melarang shalat berjamaah, menghapuskan Kementerian Wakaf dan membiarkan anak-anak yatim dan fakir miskin. Dia membatalkan undang-undang waris, faraid secara Islam, menghapus penggunaan kalendar Islam dan mengganti huruf Arab ke dalam huruf Latin. Attatürk mengganggap dirinya tuhan sama seperti firaun. Ketika itu ada seorang prajurit ditanya “siapa tuhan dan di mana tuhan tinggal?” karena takut, prajurit tersebut menjawab "Kemal Attatürk adalah tuhan”, dia tersenyum dan bangga dengan jawaban yang diberikan. Saat-saat menjelang kematiannya, Allah mendatangkan kepadanya beberapa penyakit yang membuatnya tersiksa dan tak dapat menanggung azab yang Allah berikan di dunia, diantaranya penyakit kulit dimana dia merasakan gatal di sekujur tubuh. Dia juga menderita penyakit jantung dan darah tinggi. Kemudian rasa panas sepanjang hari, tidak pernah merasa sejuk sehingga pompa air dikerahkan untuk menyirami rumahnya selama 24 jam. Attatürk juga menyuruh para pembantunya untuk meletakkan kantong-kantong es di dalam selimut untuk membuatnya sejuk. Maha Suci Allah, walau telah berusaha keras, tidak ada yang dapat mereka lakukan untuk mengusir rasa panas itu. Oleh karena tidak tahan dengan panas yang dirasakan, dia menjerit sangat keras hingga seluruh istana mendengarnya. Karena tidak tahan mendengar jeritan, para pembantunya membawa Attatürk ke tengah lautan dan diletakkan dalam kapal dengan harapan beliau akan merasa sejuk. Maha Besar Allah, panasnya tak juga hilang!! Pada 26 September 1938, dia pingsan selama 48 jam disebabkan panas yang dirasakannya dan kemudian sadar tetapi dia hilang ingatan. Pada 9 November 1938, dia pingsan sekali lagi selama 36 jam dan akhirnya meninggal dunia. Ketika itu tidak ada yang mau mengurus jenazahnya sesuai syariat. Mayatnya diawetkan selama 9 hari 9 malam, sehingga adik perempuannya datang meminta ulama-ulama Turki untuk memandikan, mengkafankan dan menshalatkannya. Tidak cukup sampai disitu, Allah tunjukkan lagi azab ketika mayatnya akan dimakamkan. Sewaktu mayatnya hendak ditanam, tanah tidak menerimanya (tak dapat dibayangkan bagaimana jika tanah tidak menerimanya). Karena tidak diterima tanah, mayatnya diawetkan sekali lagi dan dimasukkan ke dalam musium yang diberi nama EtnaGrafi selama 15 tahun hingga tahun 1953. Setelah 15 tahun mayatnya hendak dikuburkan kembali, tapi Allah Maha Agung, bumi sekali lagi tak menerimanya. Sampai akhirnya mayat Attaturk dibawa ke satu bukit dan disimpan dalam celah-celah marmer seberat 44 ton. Lebih menyedihkan lagi, ulama-ulama yang sezaman dengan Attatürk mengatakan bahwa jangankan bumi Turki, seluruh bumi Allah ini tidak akan menerimanya. Naudzubillah.
judy smith Feb 2017
He has given a luxurious twist to the dying art of weaving and popularised the use of Khadi. Award-winning textile designer Gaurang Shah is more than happy that the Indian fashion industry has welcomed handlooms. “As a textile designer, I would like to say the Indian fashion industry has embraced handlooms with lot of admiration and helped revive our ancient traditions of weaving art, like the jamdani weaves, that we use in creating our fashion pieces,” Shah told IANS.

“It also reinforced its unparalleled beauty around the world,” he added. The designer says that one must acknowledge the passion and intense amount of production hours every weaver at the looms puts to bring out timeless pieces of handlooms.

“The fashion industry did contribute to bring them back into vogue in recent years,” he said. Shah showcased his latest collection of 40 garments titled Muslin at Lakme’s Fashion Week Summer/Resort 2017. His anthology for the gala was inspired by romance of nature.

Giving details about his range, he said: “Our collection incorporates weaves and techniques from West Bengal, Andhra Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. The amazing all-in-whites collections integrate gorgeous Mughal motifs and geometric patterns on Khadi, chikankari embroidery and Parsi gara.”

The designer’s collection involved 50 weavers working relentlessly for over six months. Shah, whose handloom creation made its way to the 69th Cannes Film Festival when Deepshikha Deshmukh, producer of Aishwarya Rai Bachchan starrer “Sarbjit”, stepped out in an ensemble featuring Paithani and Kanjeevaram details, says that handlooms are a glorious heritage of India and it is important to preserve and help the artists’ community grow.

“I would like to add that a few years ago this beautiful art was fading away. Thanks to persistent effort and motivation from label like ours, followed by the efforts of our Prime Minister Narendra Modi, that pushed Indian handlooms to higher level of acceptance,” he said.

Shah began his journey in the textile world with just two weavers and today the label works with 700 weavers, and the number is still growing.

“The biggest contribution we as a designer can make is to keep our artisans motivated and also help them gain confidence that it is a highly profitable profession,” said the designer, who has styled the stars like Vidya Balan, Sonam Kapoor and Kirron Kher.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
A PARSI'S VOICE.

SO SAY WOULD, OUR ANCESTORS.
"Far, very far away from my Motherland I am;
Where lived Sohrab, Rustom, Jal and Sam.
Adopted India, after many adjustments I did, as my very own.
Here, by me, seeds of development were sown".

Toiled, sweated n happily gave to our Country, my all.
With my hard work n honesty, I then stood tall.
Of life, I eventually did pass, the difficult test.
Then shared my wealth willingly, I did, with the rest."

In unison, feeling very much at home, here I stay.
All the duties of a good citizen perform I; day to day.
Ask I don't for favours; I, with my arms open, just give.
Shabbily treat me do not; to me, my due respect give.

I ask for nothing more than the protection of my religion.
Request you I, to change your concept n vision.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Mercury Chap Dec 2014
What is this division?
Who are these Gods?
To separate all their children,
Is this their goal?
Is this why we call them our Lords?

We talk about God, we fight.
We talk about love, we fight.
People get killed every second
When all they do is ask for their rights.

Lovers are separated
Because they can't love,
Because their religion is different,
Because rivalry makes it tough
To fall in love with the one you want to.

Friends are separated
Because one is Hindu and one is Muslim,
Because they are taught that The Holy book asks for it
But they are all lying
That we do things to fulfill wishes for him.

Do we know him?
Has someone seen him?
Yes?
Did he tell you to **** humanity?

You don't know how to read,
And you do what The Holy Book says?
Do you know the difference between fraud and Holy?
Don't you think you are being played?

Can't it be
That we have one God
With different names?
Can't it be our different Lords
Are the same?

Why do we fight
For what we didn't create?
Why don't we convert
Love into hate?

You don't trust your parents
But you trust someone who is not here
Your parents are your Gods
They are the ones who are near
To you and your heart.

I am not Hindu
I am not Muslim
I am not Christian
I am not Jew
I am not Sikh
I am not Parsi
I am the gift of my parents
Who wants the world to know
That the God is you
And you are your children's God.
Another controversial topic but I have no intention to hurt someone's emotions. Trust your religion, I am no one to stop you, but don't have a feeling of hatred for others. Every one is a human being. You studied science, it isn't that no one knows that humans are called "****-sapiens". Have you ever heard the terms "Christian species" or "Hindu species" in science? Everyone is equal, everyone is a ****-sapien. I respect every religion and their teachings. I don't think that all these customs were created by the ones who created Holy Books. I just don't think that we should get divided just because we belong to different places. Respect your religion but don't forget that everyone is a human being just like you are.
AN ADDRESS TO EVERY PARSI

Don't forget the insults our ancestors had to swallow.
That's why, tradition we need to very well follow.

If we wish to flourish n  survive,
Their ideology, we will have to revive.

Marry early, a Humdin we must n build a family tree.
Leaving aside luxuries, children we should have three.

The future is entirely in your hands now.
Fight for our survival; do not, to selfishness bow.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
The morning sun plays hide and seek between the hills
Miles and miles of strawberry fields
The little green plants wear winter smiles
and baby strawberries unripe

The innocent clouds in a clear sky
Hold a dialogue in patterns pristine
Missed by their cousins in the city skies

Bougainvillea adorned villas
And Cozy homes
Warli paintings on the walls
Red soil and dusty country roads

Tablelands and Parsi point
Scenic hills and the Sahyadri valley view
Mapro garden a place to go
For sandwiches and strawberry cream

The river stream gleams under the setting sun
A perfect cup of masala chai
An evening well spent
Delgada y sinuosa
como la cuerda mágica.
Rubia y rauda:
                                dardo y milano.
Pero también inexorable rompehielos.
Senos de niña, ojos de esmalte.
Bailó en todas las terrazas y sótanos,
contempló un atardecer en San José, Costa Rica,
durmió en las rodillas de los Himalayas,
fatigó los bares y las sabanas de áfrica.
A los veinte dejó a su marido
por una alemana;
a los veintiuno dejó a la alemana
por un afgano;
a los cuarenta y cinco
vive en Proserpina Court, int. 2, Bombay.
Cada mes, en los días rituales,
llueven sapos y culebras en la casa,
los criados maldicen a la demonia
y su amante parsi apaga el fuego.
Tempestad en seco.
                                            El buitre blanco
picotea su sombra.
Julian Delia Jul 2019
Ġrieħi miftuħin,
Xejn ma jrid jingħalaq.
Suppost, il-ġnus maqgħuda,
Iżda lkoll qegħdin mifruxin,
Donnu, xejn ma jrid jiċċaqlaq.

Feriti ifferoċjati bil-melħ,
Kruċjati, bla ebda sens ta’ ferħ.
U l-imħabba għal proxxmu -
Dik x’sar minnha?
Issa sibna x-xoqqa f’moxta;
Ħlifna, bit-tarf ta’ din il-pinna,
Naslu għal verità, naraw x’insarrfu minnha.

Allura, x’inhi din il-verità?
Qiegħed nassumi li hekk qegħdin tistaqsu.
M’hemmx dibattitu, ir-realtà turik,
Kollox f’ħinu, kollox f’waqtu.
Ir-risposta tiegħi hija din;
Tlifna kull sens ta’ valur,
Tlifna kull sens ta’ twemmin.

M’għadniex nemmu fil-valur tal-ħajja ta’ kullħadd.
M’għadniex nemmnu li kull azzjoni għanda impatt.
Nemmu li aħna progressivi, u Ewropej;
Jekk vera nemmnu hekk,
Lesti nħallsu għall-eċċessi u d-dejn?
Mhux dejn fiskali, iżda dejn immortali,
Id-dejn tad-demm li xxerred,
Dejn is-sudditti, dejn l-iskjavi.

In fatti, is-superjorità materjali ġejja minn hekk;
Mill-gwerer tas-slaten, u l-gideb ta’ dawn tal-ġlekk.
Daħħalna xafra disa’ pulzieri ‘il ġewwa,
Biex imbagħad ħriġniha sitta ‘il barra;
Ta’ parsi għandna l-ugwaljanza,
Għax issa jsawtuk xorta, iżda b’aktar ħlewwa.

Qabel, kellna l-ktajjen u l-forza brutali.
Issa, għandna l-kuntratti, u l-kodiċi penali,
Bil-banek jirrenjaw,
Bil-gvernijiet korporazzjonijiet statali.
Mhux ha nitlobkom temmnuni -
Nitlobkom biss teżaminaw il-fatti.
M’għandix spag x’jiġbduli;
Il-kuxjenza nadifa,
U m’għandix gideb x’ngħatti.

_______

’Open wounds’

Open wounds;
They aren’t closing.
Nations should be united,
But we are far apart,
Seems like nothing wants to budge.

Wounds, seasoned with salt,
Crucibles, with no sense of joy.
And, about that love for one’s fellow man -
What happened to that?
Now, we’ve found the perfect moment;
We’ve sworn, with the tip of this pen,
(that) We’ll get to the truth,
See what we can make of it.

So; what is the truth?
I am assuming that’s what you’re asking.
There’s no debate, reality shows you,
In due time and place, in the right moment.
My answer is this -
We’ve lost all our sense of valour,
We’ve lost all our sense of belief.

We no longer believe in the value of everyone’s life.
We no longer believe every action impacts others.
We believe that we are progressive, and European;
If we do believe that,
Are we ready to pay back our excesses and debts?
This is not fiscal debt, but rather an immortal one,
The debt of the blood that has been shed,
The debt of subjects and slaves.

In fact, material superiority stems from this;
From the wars of lords and the lies of the suits.
We’ve pushed a blade nine inches inward,
And pushed it six inches outward;
Pretending we have equality,
Just because now, they’ll still beat you, but more sweetly, more subtly.

Before, we had chains and brute force.
Now, we have contracts, and the penal code,
With banks reigning supreme,
With governments who are now state corporations.
I am not asking you to believe me -
I am asking you to examine the facts.
I have no strings, none that can be pulled;
My conscience is clean,
And I have no lies to cover up.
Dedicated to a nation full of crooks and *******.
Every parent Grandparent every one who is tending to a child is a Gardener and the child a precious sapling

MY SAPLING

I am your loving guardian, your Gardener;

Who awaits to see a sapling bloom, as if a baby it were.

And you of course , my most precious sapling are.

See you I wish to, blossom, bloom n spread your branches far.

Tender, loving you are, sweet as sugar or honey.

Sometimes giggling, crying, angry or even funny.

Everything is a game, be it sleep, studies or time for feed.

I your gardener painstakingly will tend to all your needs.

May you blossom to be a great Parsi, n an Indian great too.

May Ahura always shower His choicest blessings upon you.

Your Gardener, your Ma

Armin Dutia Motashaw
ANYTHING KAREGAA FOR AN EENDAA

From early childhood, we Parsis survive hardly can, without an "eenda"

We can hardly, without our eenda in some form or the other, remain "Jinda"

Love we an egg over almost anything, papeta, kheema, vengna-nu-bhartu or bhinda.

Arre! we Parsis often prefer our eenda over delicious sweets, like daar ni pori or a "penda"

Poro, akoori are staple diet in a Parsi household, without which our life is like a "mindaa"

Our passion for these "eendas" actually creates either jealousy, "teeka" or "neendaa"

Whatever be the reason, a Parsi Bawaji almost cannot live without his favourite "EENDAA"

Armin Dutia Motashaw
JAMSHEDJI TATA

Revered Sir,

Truly a man with a long foresight great you were;

The entire Parsi community is really proud of you, Sir .

A great human n a patriotic son of Mother India, you were.

After your meeting with Vivekananda, you knew how to serve Her.

May your memory live on for centuries many, dear Sir.

Happy Birthday

Armin Dutia Motashaw
OUR SURVIVAL

If we wish to survive n do not wish to fade;

We and only we, our own selves will have to aid.

So listen to me dear gentlemen and fair maids;

Through turbulent waters we will have to wade.

Life is not just to enjoy, wearing clothes of different shades.

Neither it is made for commerce and trade.

Follow we must n strictly adhere to rules laid;

Which our ancestors have in detail, with great care made.

Or soon others to this Parsi clan; a farewell will bade.

Following our religion has to come from within; one can't be paid.

Let's deeply respect our religion; n decide not to fade.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
HAPPY CHILDREN'S DAY.

PLAN A CHILD TODAY.

Every child very precious is;

so Maayjis, think about this please.

It's these children who are our future bright

They are truly our life, our warm Sunlight.

Children we must have  to help ourselves n our clan.

Every Parsi couple should at least three plan.

Tenderly, lovingly bring them up we must

Children are for this clan, core n crust.

HAPPY CHILDREN'S DAY, PLAN A CHILD TODAY.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Spew venom please do not; after all, you are not a snake;

Treat everyone alike, for your  creator's, for your God's sake .

He has made us all; men, beasts, worms and birds

We are all children His; Hindu, Jew, Christian, Muslim, Parsi, Kurds.

Learn we must, compassion; to live and let others live;

This is what each human has to practise. But we must this, first conceive.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
cultural appropriation... what?
  i like the fact that,
like whiskey, or beer...
     there are stories attached
to certain curries...

    namely this one...
  dhansak...
    the Parsi people are
a Zoroastrian sect who came from
Persia and settled
   in the Gujarati region of north west
India circa the 10th century...

but there's a story...
   and it's in the slow-cooker
waiting tomorrow's consumption...
why?
   i remember one one part
of chemistry entertained
me... organic chemistry...

almost like a restaurant kitchen,
what with the perfume base
of esters... and what not...
    but...
       alas...
     synthetic ingredients
and subsequent synthetic products...
like saccharine
compared to authentic sugar...

           no match...
     fry fresh chillies at a high temp.
with garlic, ginger,
ground cumin coriander
turmeric (properties of turmeric -
the poor man's version
of saffron - are only activated
using black pepper) -

           i know what i like -
i'll defend my mother tongue...
  i'll speak this english -
outside my abode...
      but in terms of cuisine?
i know where my stomach
is...
           it's in India...
    
   i could eat this **** morning,
afternoon, midnight...
it's like reading a bottle of whiskey,
the story behind it...
   like a tokai whiskey -
tokai: originating in Hungary -
within the confines of a wine...

but my head?
    if my stomach is in India?
my head is in Poland -
cf.
     the map of Europe
  during the bubonic plague -
and the map of Europe
during the migrant crisis
and terrorism -
       there is a similarity -
    a quarantine plot of land...
  
   my heart? on the Faroe Islands...

my phallus?
    in anything that moves
and isn't related to
     poultry or something
i'd ingest.

    my mouth?
                  always in England.
SAAYONAARA

As the year is about to end, n to it, saayonaara we say;

Request I every Parsi kid n youth to please daily pray.

15 minutes from 24hours we can surely spare to pray;

It will keep many problems, dangers n many an illness at bay.

New Year resolutions often broken are; but pl. do this every day.

For lack of faith n love for religion, gives Ahreman a chance to us flay.

Thus, spare a moments few and with all your heart, do pray.

Thank Ahura, speak to Him without fail, every single day

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Revered Sir,

Truly a man with a long foresight great you were;

The entire Parsi community is really proud of you, Sir .

A great human n a patriotic son of Mother India, you were.

After your meeting with Vivekananda, you knew how to serve Her.

May your memory live on for centuries many, dear Sir.

Happy Birthday

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Said I to myself, "Oh  Armin,  when will you stop this  day dreaming "?

"Stop it at once, or people at you, will soon be screaming!!!"

Ahh  only if I were rich,  a complex at  Udwadia,  I would definitely build.

O  Ahura,  how I wish,  this You would have,  in  my destiny willed.

Then, materialize would my  ideas,  I  often so enthusiastically conceive .

Elderly couples could here securely and most comfortably live.

The  air here,  unpolluted , fresh n crisp is,  with  sea  breeze ozone rich n cool.

A  compound with a garden,  lawn, a gym, n a  swimming pool;

Medical facilities,  good food, and of course, exist should transport.

Time fly would happily for them, they can dine, wine, dance and enjoy some sport.

If our wealthy ones, like Tatas, Godrej, Poonawala, Pallonjis et al,  a building each would donate;

Filled with Happppppinessss n health, secured would be,  our elders fate.

With  IRANSHAH  close at hand,  the Parsi population here will increase

Only if some benevolent Sethias, would take up this project pleeeeeeease.

A plea this is, from this dreamer to these seers affluent, wealthy and rich;

After reading this poem,  lives of many elders you can very easily enrich.

MAY THIS DREAM COME TRUE.
AEDOON BAAD.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
HAPPINESSSSS TO FREYANUSH....

Happy happy happy birthday, my Lil Champ.
I know busy very you are at the skating camp.
Tired you must be getting; n your spirits may be damp.

Grow to be, may you like your great Grand-Pa, a human great;
Who in Ahura,  our religion n humanity, had a deep faith.
May wonderful, useful, healthy n happy be your fate.

Work hard n also enjoy life you may; always may you wine n dine.
But certainly grow up to be a Parsi pucca and a human fine.
You are the most beloved, little darling of mine.

With lots of love n all good wishes
from Dae, Ma, Shez, Phil and Zoi.
And loads n loads of love, kisses and hugs from Ma.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
BREED RIGHT

Instead of breeding children, into them, hatred we breed

Instead of unity n integrity, of discord sow we, many a seed

Imagine, seriously think, where will all this, us n them lead (to)

Instead of following the footsteps of ancestors, who fire with respect did feed

We into gen next, bad examples set, isn't this shameful indeed!

Every Parsi, rich n poor, unite should; because useless is a single bead

Form let us, a STRING of PEARLS, n towards prosperity, our children lead.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
HAPPY CHILDREN'S DAY.

PLAN A CHILD TODAY.

Every child very precious is;

so Maayjis, think about this please.

It's these children who are our future bright

They are truly our life, our warm Sunlight.

Children we must have  to help ourselves n our clan.

Every Parsi couple should at least three plan.

Tenderly, lovingly bring them up we must

Children are for this clan, core n crust.

HAPPY CHILDREN'S DAY, PLAN A CHILD TODAY.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
QUIT INDIA

In 1942, on this very day, told we the Brits to quit our Mother land.

Oh ! commitment great there was, all around, did this we, hand in hand.

It is August once again, when a big change has recently come.

Hope n pray for our dear India, bring it will positive change some.

May that unity of 1942 once again in our mind and hearts spring.

May the words Vande Mataram in our entire being ring.

So together, along with me, say let us all, " Vande Mataram"

"Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Isayi, Parsi, sub ek hei hum"

JAI HIND

Armin Dutia Motashaw
MY SAPLING

I am your loving guardian, your Gardener;

Who awaits to see a sapling bloom, as if a baby it were.

And you of course , my most precious sapling are.

See you I wish to, blossom, bloom n spread your branches far.

Tender, loving you are, sweet as sugar or honey.

Sometimes giggling, crying, angry or even funny.

Everything is a game, be it sleep, studies or time for feed.

I your gardener painstakingly will tend to all your needs.

May you blossom to be a great Parsi, n an Indian great too.

May Ahura always shower His choicest blessings upon you.

Your Gardener, your Ma

Armin Dutia Motashaw
FINGERS GREEN

O Ahura kind, I know it's rather late,  but change You can our fate.

Kindly dear Lord, increase our Parsi  birth (growth) rate.

Also request You I,  to grant us fingers, fertile n green

Grow into  lush green trees would, twigs, every little seed, every bean.

Help me please plant trees;  like John the Apple seed; bless Anar's deed

Scatter I would,  every  Chikoo, Mango, Lime, Orange,  melon seed.

Every road of  Mother India, loaded would be, with lush green fruit trees.

This would nourish millions, also give shade n cool breeze.

A dreamer may be I am; not ready to accept reality harsh;

But if You bless us,  we well know, change can, deserts n marsh.

Bless us, O my kind Mazda, with fingers very  very green;

So that grow luxurious trees can, with every scattered seed n bean.

Armin Dutia Motashaw.
AFTER ME

Even after I am gone,  may many people,  my work carefully read.

On understanding it, may parents n grandparents better kids breed.

With everyone growing trees n plants, the environment will be fresh indeed !

With my constant prodding, with this green, may pure air people breathe.

May peace and prosperity prevail n no one under terror  does seethe.

Wish I, every child loves and diligently practises our religion n increases our creed.

Parsipanu n the great values of our ancestors flourish abundantly may.

Write I, with all my heart, and with conviction full, I pray;

"Hope Every Parsi Puthra believes (n works too) that PARSIS ARE HERE TO STAY".

Armin Dutia Motashaw

— The End —