Uncut Poetry podcast | Listen online for free

Available Episodes

5 of 267

Assisted Suicide
I read about the famous economist Daniel Kahneman, author of 'Thinking fast and slow', opting to end ha life through assisted suicide, euthanasia. He went to Switzerland, and died. A friend and I were talking about it. And I remembered what Tanu and I have often discussed - Not to live if we become a permanent burden on someone. I told my friend, I was quite clear - I get to decide when I will end my life. But he asked a simple question - is your life only yours? And it made me pause. And as is my wont, I started writing to clear my head. First I wrote from the perspective of the one who has decided to end his life, and followed it with the feelings of the one who is left behind. And it wasn't an easy decision any longer. It's easy to say that our breath, our life, is a gift to us - and after that it's our decision as to what we want to do with it. But that also started sounding glib. Because the fact is that our breath, our life, is also a collective. We are made of the efforts, the hope springs, the heart carvings, the soul bindings, the body cravings, the thought mouldings of all who love and care for us. We start being someone and then are slowly changed and created out of what others see us as. What might start as an opinion, an illusion, starts getting recreated. We then are what we make of ourselves, but are also deeply vented and grooved by what our world thinks of us. No, we no longer remain our own. If our presence makes a difference to the lives of someone else, we are not only our own. If our mere breath gives solace to someone else, we are not our own. If mere presence, without words, without effort, makes someone's life feel complete, then our life is not merely ours. And that, if nothing else, needs to give us pause, before we decide to go to the next realm. If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on deaths and similar journeys - I Heard That You Just Set Off on a Journey Birthday Musings of an Ageing Man I Will Leave The Last Line For You to Fill Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup. Get in touch with me on [email protected] The details of the music used in this episode are as follows - Movie extract by Sascha Ende A Sad Toy Story by Sascha Ende Link: https://filmmusic.io/en/song/movie-extract Link: https://filmmusic.io/en/song/a-sad-toy-story Licence: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
--------
5:49
I Call Myself a Poet
I often feel that as a poet I am destined to live through the infliction, the gain and the loss, the incandescence and the darkness, of a continuing bruise. I have to confront too many truths, and make sense of them, I have to face the world with too much honesty, and to crack open too many of my lies and illusions. I feel alone, trying to tell the story so I camouflage the truth, to iron up to rebuffs and to the reality of losing space. To know that I am both a mirror and a weapon, though I profess I'm just an agent of stories whose words sometimes seem like a lunging sabre. When all I do is to sit on a desk alone, with a single bulb throwing shadows on my notebook, a pen which makes a scraping noise as I write, shovelling out the detritus of memory, scraping my heart and soul for revelations, which would help me unravel my own mystery. Why do I do what I do, why does the universe pull me towards disaster and then helps me flee, why do I rebuff destiny, why do I run away from sanctuary? And then I stop in my heels, and realize that I know. I'm merely being the poet that I am. No more, no less. If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on the absolute glory of being a poet - Old Poems for Old Loves How a Poem Finds Itself I Don't Think Poetry Will Save us. And yet, and yet.... Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup. Get in touch with me on [email protected] The details of the music used in this episode are as follows - Sleepers by Sascha Ende Link: https://filmmusic.io/en/song/sleepers Licence: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
--------
4:38
Last Legs of the Day
So much of life is of journeys, just the way death is the final one. Of course, I'm not only talking of trapezing around the world, country to country, city to city, in innumerable trips. I am also referring to metaphorical and metaphysical journeys. The ones which reveal the greatest of mysteries - of what we truly are. The journey inside. Because that's where the truth of our sighs and lights resides, of what haunts us in the night and of what drives us in the morn. Of what irritates us, what irrigates us, what parches us, what floods us. We learn to recognize people who freeze us, and the ones who free us. How at times we become blithe spirits when alone, and how we are completely imprisoned even as we move around in company. Who are we if not responses to our own stimuli? Who are we if not found persons, dug out of our own excavations and discoveries? Because in life and in death, however many our encounters, accidents or conjoinments, we finally keep meeting ourselves. And, without comparison, it is the greatest unravelling. Because journeys help us shed skin, help us become raw and open, vulnerable to our own revelations, to see our deeper fears, and what we are but also what we can be. In the world of circumstances, we are both the greatest possibility and the meanest retraction. Inside us, our wings are tightly-folded. And there's no need to fly in the crowds, as there is enough space to hide, from people and from ourselves. But, journeys give us a chance to unfold those unused wings, renew our promise to the universe, and to slowly, timidly, then surely, learn how to fly again. If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on different kinds of journeys - Adventures in Two Worlds In Search of God On Growing up (that haze of sunshine & dust) Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup. Get in touch with me on [email protected] The details of the music used in this episode are as follows - Der Kristall Ending by Sascha Ende Der Kristall the Glade by Sascha Ende Link: https://filmmusic.io/en/song/der-kristall-ending Link: https://filmmusic.io/en/song/der-kristall-the-glade Licence: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
--------
5:16
Tenderly
What are we if not the ones who crave for second chances. And what is this world if not a place which is spatially abundant but trajectorily linear. An opportunity lost, a call not made, an apology kept back, a feedback reined, a love abandoned. Life is a compulsive giver. It's we who are blindsided with the cornucopia of choice - mistakenly thinking that life will keep giving. That we will keep rebuffing its generosity, with impatience, with disdain, with ego, and we will keep getting what we want. But even the universe gets tired. When it sees its largesse being rejected, being thrown asunder with impunity, of being taken for granted, it just takes its plentitude elsewhere. That's why trying to get back what we've lost, trying to bring back whom we've lost, are often exercises in futility. Apart from the context being changed, the dominoes having shifted, the reference points getting lost, the heat and light which accompanies first crushes and initial rushes simply do not find any resonance when time shifts reference points. When time and tide bring other people and more contexts which are eager to adopt the universe's gifts, the munificence shifts. Our rejection of the other then leaves us bereft and alone. If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on the touchy-feelness of departures - Sometimes We Remember So Hard Departures I Heard That You Just Set Off on a Journey Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup. Get in touch with me on [email protected] The details of the music used in this episode are as follows - Pullman City Hard by Sascha Ende Link: https://filmmusic.io/en/song/pullman-city-hard Licence: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
--------
4:39
Love Actually (more & mess)
Love they say Is the mess you invite, The mess you make And the mess you leave behind.) It's a flash, it's a paint, It's basil in the soup. It's a kite which finds the sky Because its cut loose. It's a shore being tugged by the sea, It's the moon staying on in the morn, It's the sunshade in a roadside cafe, It's the chef's apron he can't take off. It's the brownie you crave, It's a drink you like strong, It's a glass too many in a pub, It's a staid party and you want to pole-dance. It's the chilly flake on your pizza, It's a fondue too hot, It's the tandoor crispening your roti, It's the buttered part of the toast. It's the street which you love, It's the bend in the lane, It's the view which you search When the highway is long. It's the blood you give in a camp Though you don't know its journey's end. It's the ticket which you get When you park too long. It's the sock which you wear, It's the inner to keep you warm, It's the tattered shirt on the hanger, The torn jeans you don't mind. It's as warm as worn-out slippers, A curtain which can't be still, It's a dream which won't let go, It's when you're awake though long-gone. It's your song sung in a foreign tongue, It's a glimpse you get in a throng, It's the thong you see on a mannequin, It's when you are hungry in a rich repast. It's the sigh of a dream unfinished, It's breathlessness after you run a mile, It's a vein blocked in your body, It's your heart going still, at first light. When was love ever tea sipped alone? When was it ever just dawn's first shine? It's the hale which cracks the wind-shield, It's when its clear and you're snow-bound. It's your semen in a condom, It's a baby you might not want. But when you hold it uncertainly It's, finally, the world you find in your arms. If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on the gorgeous mystery of love - Punctuation for Lovers Coming to Your Side of the Bed Changing Your Address (on marrying & moving homes) Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup. Get in touch with me on [email protected] The details of the music used in this episode are as follows - Rising Sun by Sascha Ende Link: https://filmmusic.io/en/song/rising-sun Licence: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
--------
3:42