FREEDOM.. HAS IT BECOME A QUESTION MARK??


Originally posted on amritha zachariah:

Where has our freedom gone? Is our freedom seriously under threat? Next time, when one thinks of talking or acting or even thinking about something , should they think about being taken to task or by being shot by Terrorists? Are they actually controlling what has to be said and done? What is happening?

Several examples can be laid that supports the above talked. For example the shooting of Malala Yousafzi ( at the age of 15) for raising her voice or rather fighting for her due rights of basic education, then can be the 2014 Peshawar killings where 140 innocent school kids were shot at a point blank range in their school building itself for pursuing education and also as a revenge of the Talibans against the Army officers as according to the Taliban, they wanted the Army people to feel the pain when their dear ones are massacred…

View original 198 more words

Here We Go Again…


Originally posted on maadhyamblogging:

India is in the throes of what Salman Rushdie rightly calls a “cultural emergency.” Writers and artists of all kinds are being harassed, sued and arrested for what they say or write or create. The government either stands by and does nothing to protect freedom of speech, or it actively abets its suppression.

In recent years, the government has cast a watchful eye on the Internet, demanding that companies like Google and Facebook and remove items that might be deemed “disparaging” or “inflammatory,” according to technology industry executives there.

Freedom of expression needs to be promoted with legitimate limitations and in balance with other digital rights within an expanded legal and regulatory framework. There are challenges to deal with liability of intermediaries and governmental surveillance which might undermine freedom of expression.

The ubiquity of the technology goes hand-in-hand with the ubiquity of social media. But with rights come responsibilities. Unchecked, social…

View original 74 more words

Here We Go Again…


Originally posted on maadhyamblogging:

India is in the throes of what Salman Rushdie rightly calls a “cultural emergency.” Writers and artists of all kinds are being harassed, sued and arrested for what they say or write or create. The government either stands by and does nothing to protect freedom of speech, or it actively abets its suppression.

In recent years, the government has cast a watchful eye on the Internet, demanding that companies like Google and Facebook and remove items that might be deemed “disparaging” or “inflammatory,” according to technology industry executives there.

Freedom of expression needs to be promoted with legitimate limitations and in balance with other digital rights within an expanded legal and regulatory framework. There are challenges to deal with liability of intermediaries and governmental surveillance which might undermine freedom of expression.

The ubiquity of the technology goes hand-in-hand with the ubiquity of social media. But with rights come responsibilities. Unchecked, social…

View original 74 more words

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening


Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

The Tyger by William Blake


Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

The Lamb by William Blake


         Little Lamb, who made thee?
         Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
         Little Lamb, who made thee?
         Dost thou know who made thee?

         Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee,
         Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and he is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb.
We are called by his name.
         Little Lamb, God bless thee!
         Little Lamb, God bless thee!

Adrienne Rich’s Aunt Jennifer’s Tigers – finally makes sense


Aunt Jennifer’s tigers prance across a screen,

Bright topaz denizens of a world of green.

They do not fear the men beneath the tree;

They pace in sleek chivalric certainty.

As we will come to know later in the poem, Aunt Jennifer is a very mild woman who lacks self-confidence and is terrified of most things in her life.  She is seen designing a tapestry of tigers in a green forest. The tigers appear to prance around confidently, unafraid of the hunters hiding among the trees. They move around in elegance and certainty. ‘Chivalric’ symbolizes knightly bravery. Using astounding poetry, she describes the tigers as bright topaz denizens – ‘denizens’ meaning inhabitants. The world of green is their home – the forest. A beautiful contrast of colors is sprung. The tigers wander through the forests with a grace that everything around them belongs to them. This gives them a dignity that makes them unafraid of man.

Aunt Jennifer’s fingers fluttering through her wool

Find even the ivory needle hard to pull.

The massive weight of Uncle’s wedding band

Sits heavily upon Aunt Jennifer’s hand.

Aunt Jennifer, as we will see in the last paragraph, is a woman, who is terrified of the marital ordeals in her life. Hence, the wedding band appears to be weighing her down. She appears to be bound to social and marital obligations and the wedding band appears more of a restraint than a symbol of love or joy or freedom. She seems to have lost her freedom of expression in her marriage, and therefore expresses herself through the only way she knows – her art of designing tapestries. Being the mild woman she is, she wishes to channelize her desire of becoming that bold woman who stands up for herself. This she does, by creating tigers who are entirely opposite in nature to herself. Whilst she is terrified of everything in life, the tigers are bold and strong and do not fear anything. Whilst she is meek and unable to express herself, the tigers are elegant and pace with assured certainty. Why, Aunt Jennifer seems frightened even in the making of these bold, elegant beasts! This is seen in the fact that her fingers tremble in pulling the light, weightless ivory needle.

With creativity, it can be seen that like a ringed-in animal at a circus with no freedom, Aunt Jennifer appeared to be ringed in (with her wedding band) with no freedom.

When Aunt is dead, her terrified hands will lie

Still ringed with ordeals she was mastered by.

The tigers in the panel that she made

Will go prancing, proud and unafraid.

The poet has smartly used a synecdoche in which Aunt Jennifer’s hands represent her whole being.

The poet does not show if she sympathizes with Aunt Jennifer or not. This paragraph vaguely indicates that the poet may have expected better from Aunt Jennifer. She might have stood up for herself more and freed herself from all social, marital obligations and restraints. It might be too late; it might not – but when aunt is dead, she will still be imprisoned in her restraints. There will be no freedom for her, even in death. However the tigers that she has crafted will continue to prance around their home – the forest – bold, proud and unafraid.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.