From Darkness to Light
poems from India
Photograph by Maggie Alexander
Yesterday was a typical dark November day, when the sky presses down upon the soul and to go outside in the pouring rain seemed only to wash away whatever joyful spirits might remain. It is on such days as these that my heart leads my body into digging deeply to find that feeling of being in India. It is not mere memory or the recollection of experience, but the touch of something else. And that something else is one of the many parts of who I am.
As Maggie and I have no plans to go to India in the foreseeable future, I went to my notebooks and began to read what I had written on our last trip which was arriving in Chennai on 2nd January and leaving from Bengaluru on 2nd February in 2020.
I found a warmth exuding from the words scrawled on the pages that connected me with the land, the animals and birds, with the people and with many dear friends. There was light in the snatches of conversations that had reached the page and a realisation just how much of my view of the world has been moulded by my travels in India.
Maybe Maggie and I will go to India again at the beginning of a year. If we can afford it and if we feel our health would support the travelling and often simple living arrangements that greet us in the places we stay.
***
This first poem was written on the 20th January when we were staying at the Centre for Learning school campus which is forty kilometres west of Bangalore. The campus is a little over twenty acres in extent, a large portion of which has been left as wildlife sanctuary for forest regeneration. We have been many times before, staying in the modest guesthouse on the edge of the sanctuary about a hundred metres from one of the student hostels.
The philosophy of the school is defined by these basic questions:
‘Is there a different way of living, both in personal and in social terms, that is not conflict ridden but essentially peaceful and whole? What role does education have in this process?’
***
Bamboo sounds,
whisper, whisper.
Dry leaves talk in the wind
and strong stems speak
in groans and creaks
as we walk through a bamboo grove.
Old women and men talk
in spirits through each
dense clump of moving
hollowness.
With their yellowing brown
parchment faces,
wispy white hair and
gap-toothed mouths.
Bodies lighter than the breeze
wrapped around
the swaying stems
they whisper words
Words of love, peace freedom
Of wisdom.
We stop and listen.
***
This was written a day later.
***
It is hot and the season
has prised the leaves from the trees
settling their brittle bones on the brown, white grass.
There is a sandy path down the slope
boarded on either side
by thick jungle grass
from which rise broadleaved trees.
What lurks here in the wilderness?
Myriad birds, insects of every kind,
rodents and snakes, some of which are deadly to humans.
Quite large mammals have been seen.
Quite dangerous mammals have been seen.
This is part of the school campus.
Children as young as eight years old wander the paths
during the day.
Animals such as bears and leopards wander the paths
during the night.
Children exist in Nature
aware of the possible dangers.
Creatures exist in Nature
also aware of possible dangers.
From their proximity all creatures learn.
****
A few people are wearing masks when we enter Bengaluru Airport, more than we would usually expect. It is five in the morning, and it is very quiet; all the cafes seem to still be closed.
I sit while Maggie goes to explore, looking for the possibility of tea or coffee. I become aware of the overweight man a few seats away breathing heavily. Then the coughing begins, and his body is wracked with loud paroxysms that echo through the open waiting rooms. He does nothing to impede the progress of his coughs, propelling his germs far and wide. His old white face turns puce each time he coughs. I move well away from him.
Later we take our seats in the plane, and the old man comes stumbling in and sits down not far from us. He proceeds to cough loudly much to the intense disturbance those sitting near him. Luckily, he soon fell asleep and slept most of the way.
***
Dark times demand light,
a steady glow.
Not some forceful.
catastrophic explosion,
but light.
A glimmer even.
So you can see the way.
Nothing dramatic.
Darkness only holds danger
when you cannot see.
Everything had changed.
***
I alsocontribute to a website and another Substack:
Warmer just from the reading, here on the greyest of days. Thank you sir.