These are my notes on my poem "Moon in the Lake"
The rainbow mirage
has floated away in light.
Darkness hides from splendid sunbeams.
What is, and what is not ?
Appearances are poor mirrors of truth.
I have used the word 'rainbow' for the mirage of life, for a true mirage is not monochromatic or static.It is a fluttering wave,ever new, ever different. Each person percieves this mirage in a different way, adds his or her own colour to it.That is why I call it a rainbow, multicolored, multifaceted.This mirage works at many levels, and many directions, a unique illusion for everyone.And that is a part of the success of the illusion.If everyone percieved it in a similar manner, then sooner or later everyone would realize it. But everyone has their own worlds, everyone is 'playing their own game', everyone is engaging in their own foolishness.And to be frank, the word just popped up in my mind, 'rainbow mirage' and I saw that it made sense.I seldom make any effort to find words or lines.
And why does darkness hide ? That is just poetic metaphor.Darkness and light have never met each other. It is magical that it does not matter how deep the darkness, that it has been around for ages or just for seconds.A single sunbeam is enough to dispel the darkness of a thousand aeons.
Appearances are poor mirrors of Truth.
I concede that they are mirrors, that the reflect some element of truth. But they are not wholly true, and a half truth is more dangerous than a full lie. I have delibrately chosen the metaphor of the Mirror. Poetically for me, mirrors are magical.Whatever you see in a mirror, what is its truth ? You see your 'face', but is it really your face ? Is it real or unreal ? It is real, because you can see it, but it is unreal too, since you cant touch it. I say that it stands on the border of reality and unreality, truth and false. They are halfway through, a gateway between the mundane and the magical.That is why all children are fascinated by mirrors, they appear magical.
The shadow of the moon in placid water,
is nothing but a lie of great beauty;
for Men have set feet on the heavens,
but who has found-
the Moon in the heart of the lake?
All the world is a stage,
Or so the old poet sang;
Forced smiles and fake tears,
answer the demands of the audience.
The cold and sharp blade of truth,
has but few takers.
I must emphasise the words 'placid water'. This is because the image in water appears true only till the water is still, silent, placid. A single ripple is enough to destroy this world of illusion, just like a single ray of light is enough to shake darkness away. And like mirrors, and darkness, the moon in the lake is also a mirage.
But I say 'beautiful lie'. I call it beautiful because it is perfect, unless ofcourse a pebble comes and spoils it for the lake. And consider this, the moon is so far, poetically it is almost unreachable; the moon in the water is so near, and looks so easy to get to.The image of the moon is nearer to us, and the moon is so far away, and we have gone to the moon. But there is no person who can claim that he has touched the moon in the lake. It is impossible, it is so near, yet is so far, farther than the real thing. And this is another lie, the nearness, the easyness of it, it is an illusion.
We like the psychological image we have constructed for ourselves. Society has interest in preserving it, and provides protocol so that no one hurts you, everyone is politely. No matter if you hate the person from the bottom of your heart, such emotion is not allowed.That would destroy the neat arrangement of social behaviour. We all remember the books on ettiqete and manners we read as children, all of them are lies.All of them are lies, not because being good to others is bad, but because we have been trained, like animals.We are animals in a circus, sheep in a herd, we follow because we want others to the thinking for us.We have been tamed into animals.
And we all love it.Because we think it is better to be part of a animal herd than to be alone as a man. Individuality is a curse.Courage is needed, but we all implicitly associate courage with violence. And that is also a lie, of the same people, so that individuals lack the courage to be.Courage has been associated with battle, with war, with blood.
But we are also a part of the society. We are victims and culprits at the same time.To ask for individuality, to ask for freedom is dangerous.
This is a company of fools,
a parade of fleeting glamor.
This is the age of paper tulips,
paper words, paper hearts.
I do not see faces but only masks,
and what is worse I am one.
I will not comment on the last verse. I think i have laid the ground in the previous two, that should be enough. I also feel that the poem was a bit too figurative, and that is why I have added my notes.Whenever ideas pass by me, i note them down if they are good. I contemplate on them when i have time. These are notes that I wrote down and which contribute to the poem.I thought they would open a window into what i am trying to convey. Congratulations if you were patient enough to bear my writing and reach this line!