Feedback on 'Media Armageddon -- as K Balachandran sees it'

Lovely piece.

Mini Tejaswi

This one is quite class. And unadultrated angst!

Even good enough dirge to sent to those sad timers (NYtimes and Financial Times and other chronicles) in camaradarie.

Although I am sceptic if any poet now will 'make a living' out of poetry,
as you wistfully claim. He will have to walk a very "different path" wearing that "new hat." But good lines to chorus.

Sarita Varma

The FLAG WE'VE BEEN
PROUDLY HOLDING HIGH
IS GOING DOWN...

And how quickly it is going down! It is a two-fold descent. The
profession, as we used to know it, has already come to the ground and
has been decommissioned. The profession as a job provider is preparing
for a peaceful landing.

Venugopal Unnithan

+++

Original piece below:

Love and life in the times of Armageddon
(A journalist's monologue when he is finally certain that the flag indeed goes down)

By K Balachandran

                  1

Mauled by high economic anxiety,

Shorn off all frills and laces,

And fervently hoping to forget,

Just that one thing,

That keeps staring  at me

Like one time best friend turned

Worst and bitter foe,

I hate to admit this;

I now doubt not;

The FLAG WE'VE BEEN 

PROUDLY HOLDING HIGH

IS GOING DOWN.

The forces are in disarray,

The captains can't hide their panic,

Some like Casabianca

Stand on their decks

Awaiting only the best 

At this worst and twisted times.

            2

The unexpected exposure 

Of your nubile charms

Has an effect

I resist  to reckon with,

At the moment.

More of an unconscious

Act,  than deliberate.

(Even submitting to it

May ,who can deny, reveal

Chaotic possibilities

That could  bring

Anxieties of other kind

Which wouldn't make

Things any better,

Cautions my tranqulized mind)

You are embarrassed

As if, it is mandatory

(Forgive me, I am not

Finding your fault)

I am anguished more than you,

For being painfully perturbed on

Coming face to face

With the unbounded angst

Of this capricious times,

Harsh to the  celebrated craft,

Of dealing with news, we practised,

The Armageddon is upon us.

It  keeps me in check

And won't let me be open to

Even small consolations

Like your distracting charm.

          3

Humbled am I, by this 

Terrible churn of events,

But not defeated, no

Still more fight left in me.

The spirit of first-ever news hound

With his 'blessed nose', will live in me.

I thought of life, more 

As a questioning session,

From my days of scenting news.

Where getting all the answers

Was my  proud prerogative.

Now, I know at any moment

The tables could be turned.

The questioner would find

Himself at the receiving end.

Fumbling for those right answers

Once assiduously demanded.

I was trained to see the 

Whole picture, but not really cared.

I always saw the winning side

Of my story, wasn't it  thought professional?

But the dust one is made to bite

Has its taste, bitter yet sweet.

              4

I will let this moment pass

And laugh at the imagined 

Fears that led me in grave silence,

Through alleyways, blindfolded 

Like a prisoner of war

Crying  out for clemency.

I would wake up from this 

Like, from all other bad dreams

Nurse my wounds a bit but,

Lament no more on 

The quirk of fate.

Life imposes its set of rules

Take note: nothing is unchangable

Even the laws of physics 

Recently  they found out, would bend!

I would wear a new hat,

Walk a different path, where 

A laughter  leads my way.

I would find, a happiness

That economic anxiety and such

Wouldn't dare touch.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hi Joe

You can call this effort poetry in time of high anxiety or the economy's stranglehold over poetry demonstrated.

Clearly an influence of you and your 'daily mail' on thinking and creativity, which indeed is exciting. At a later stage, I am sure that you will have dozens of people transformed by your 'treatment' which is a catharsis through introspection getting to a resolution. Those who are in the know say that the frantic antics in such intensely anguished moments can 

bring about that magical 'Wow moment' of ultimate self realization. Need to look for signs of that great mutation happening in anyone. If that happens, the rest is simple. We have a Guruji to follow. But my transformation takes this route, which I enjoy a lot. I hope at least some in this current crop would find it their anthem (at least the fourth part).

Economic anxiety,

work place anxiety, angst

induced by global turmoil,

love and life in difficult times of 

going down..down.

That dirty sinking feeling..

All these make a good mix for strong,

rooted in life, real-world poetry..

What a terrible beauty!

But lessons should be learned

decisions are to be sound, come what may

life should go on... though with a limp

On our feet we would learn to keep pace with the

changing times.

Poetry is a flicker of light in dark nights and on cloudy days.

Here is my offering.. a fruit from the suffering tree of life.

K Balachandran