Ramanujam free essay sample

Ramanujans first collection of poems The Striders appeared in 1966. In 1969 he won the gold medal of the Tamil Writers* Association for his translation of the classical Tamil anthology Kurunihohai into English under the title The Interior Landscape. Relations appeared in 1971. His next book, Speaking of Siva* translations from medieval Kannada literature* was given the National Book Award in 1974. Ramanujans other important publications are The Literature of India; An Introduction (1975) and Selected Poems (1976). Ramanujans poetry is an amalgam of Indian and American experiences. Its origin is *recollected personal emotion*. He draws upon our cultural traditions and the ethos of the orthodox Hindu family life. The major theme in his poetry is a pensive obsession with the familial and racial reminiscences. Even ordinary incidents and experiences seem to provide him with new insights enabling his memory to travel back nostalgically into the happenings of two or three generations. His favourite disciplines linguistics and anthropology gave him the outer forms linguistic, metrical, logical and other such ways of shaping experience*. Ramanujan has drawn effectively on the folklore tradition and each poem presents a kaleidoscopic view of the colour patterns of existence. Passion and reason characterise his poetry suggesting a desperate need for evolving an integrated personality in a chaotic world-of several alienations. Ramanujans poetry is essentially Indian in material and sensibility. He explains the paradox in a note to Twentieth Century Indian Poets: English and my disciplines (linguistics, anthropology) give me my outer forms— linguistic, metrical, logical and other such ways of shaping experience, and my first thirty years in India, my frequent visits and field trips, my personal and professional preoccupation with Kannada, Tamil, the classics and folklores give me my substance, my Inner forms, images and symbols. They are continuous with each other, and I no longer can tell what comes from where. A. K. Ramanujan occupies a prominent place as a poet in the cosmos of Indo-Anglian poetry. He has earned the name and fame all over the world after the publication of his two volumes of poetry — â€Å"The Striders† (1966) and â€Å"Relations† (1971). After the promulgation of â€Å"The Striders† he won a ‘Poetry Book Society Recommendation’ and established his position as â€Å"one of the most talented of the ‘new’ poets. †1 William Walsh rightly evaluated him as â€Å"the most gifted poet. † â€Å"Kurunthohai. † He has also translated into English poetry in Tamil and Kannada in The Interior Landscape (1967) and Speaking of Siva (1972)respectively. Each and every piece of his literary output in Kannada and Tamil proclaimed a new epoch in vernacular literature. Ramanujan’s poetry reflects a touch of humanity, Indian ethos and pertinence of life. Ramanujan is an example of a polished, sophisticated and profound multiculturalism. His English poetry incorporates and assimilates linguistic, literary and cultural features of Kannada and Tamil into the linguistic, literary and cultural form of English literature. Like the house in Small Scale Reflections on a Great House he absorbs the Western model to express a supposedly Indian way of being. He blended the India and European models into new forms. He has the ability to tolerate, accommodate and assimilate other cultures without losing consciousness of being an Indian. Ramanujam’s poetry exemplifies how an Indian poet in English could derive strength by forging back to his roots. In poem after poem he goes back to his childhood memories and experiences of life in India. There is no attempt to disown the richness of the past. This insistent preoccupation with the past produces a poetry in which memory plays a significant creative role. It is not emotion recollected in tranquility but recollection emotionalized in untranqui moments that appear to be the driving force behind much of Ramanujans poetry. Time and again a hood/ of memory like a coil on a heath unfolds in the mind. Ramanujan’s tones and temperaments fascinate the critical privilege of the people because of his poetic height and perception. Bruce King betrays this idea : â€Å"Ramanujan is widely read in India, along with Western and Westerninfluenced modern Indian poetry in Indian languages. This unpredictable fusion of varied roots in Ramanujan’s poetry is true of the attitudes it expresses. † The poet seeks direct meaning to life. He opines that poetry has no value without the meaning of life. He evinces his deep sympathy â€Å"for a most disadvantaged section of Indian society, the women. †Ramanujan garnishes an intimate feeling and an individual turning point to the narrative technique. He indicates the common human situation through his individual experience. He has a mastery of words and in his poems each word is used adroitly, attentively, accurately and economically. He has effectively demonstrated to his contemporaries the supreme significance of having roots and has also shown glimpses of the vitality the work of a poet acquires when he succeedeven partially in his attempt. He has derived his poetic technique from the ancient Kannada and Tamil verse and the poets of today have synthesized oriental and occidental models into new forms. Ramanujan’s technical accomplishment in incontestable and his thematic strategy is precisely the right one for a poet in his position. He has completely exploited the opportunities his material offers him. Ramanujan’s poetic technique is critically examined by M. K. Naik : â€Å"In poetic technique, of all his contemporaries, Ramanujan appears to have the surest touch, for he never lapses into romantic cliche. His unfailing sense of rhythm gives a fitting answer to those who hold that complete inwardness with language is possible only to a poet writing in his mother tongue. Though he writes in open forms, his verse is extremely tightly constructed. † Ramanujan is very often extolled for â€Å"his unique tone of voice, a feature that accounts for the characteristic style of his poetry. † I chose A. K Ramanujan for two main reasons. First of all it is agreed by many that he is the best English Indian poet till date. His style of writing and his representation of thoughts has been appreciated by all. Secondly, as a kid too I had acquaintance with Ramanujan’s work and like the poet from that time. Otherwise too his poetry shows very beautiful use of poetic tool mainly metaphors and imagery and it is comparatively easy to understand. As a person trying to write a little poetry myself I figured by taking his poems I would be able to learn some fundamentals. Elements of Composition Composed as I am, like others, of elements on certain well-known lists, father’s seed and mothers egg gathering earth, air, fire, mostly water, into a mulberry mass, moulding calcium, carbon, even gold, magnesium and such, into a chattering self tangled in love and work, scary dreams, capable of eyes that can see, only by moving constantly, the constancy of things like Stonehenge or cherry trees; add uncles eleven fingers making shadow-plays of rajas and cats, hissing, becoming fingers again, the look of panic on sisters face an hour before her wedding, a dated newspaper map, f a place one has never seen, maybe no longer there after the riots, downtown Nairobi, that a friend carried in his passport as others would a womans picture in their wallets; add the lepers of Madurai, male, female, married, with children, lion faces, crabs for claws, clotted on their shadows under the stone-eyed goddesses of dance, mere pillars, moving as nothing on earth can move — I pass throug h them as they pass through me taking and leaving affections, seeds, skeletons, millennia of fossil records of insects that do not last a day, body-prints of mayflies, a legend half-heard n a train of the half-man searching for an ever-fleeing other half through Muharram tigers, hyacinths in crocodile waters, and the sweet twisted lives of epileptic saints, and even as I add I lose, decompose, into my elements into other names and forms, past, and passing, tenses without time, caterpillar on a leaf, eating, being eaten. About the poem: Its a poem of definition; hes defining himself, and wonderfully imaginative. Almost every line is a winner. Composed as I am like others of elements on certain well known lists is an appealing way of beginning the poem. The poem is about the elements of composition and talks about the ideas of the five elements the earth, the fire, the wind, the water and the sky, as listed in Hindu religion. The other list being the 100-odd elements that the chemistry books talk about. The poem begins with talking about composition and ends with decomposition (the caterpillars, eating and being eaten). This transformation of the idea has been produced with a fine mastery. All the elements like gold, magnesium, calcium etc. are gathered into a chattering self, tangled in love and work is an excellent line. â€Å"Capable of eyes that can see, nly by moving constantly, the constancy of things† A beautiful reflection. The eyes can see, only by moving them constantly, the constancy of things, like the Stonehenge or the cherry tree. The physical eyes can see the beauty of nature or a great work of art only by moving them constantly. One should watch things which are in a continuous state of flux over a period of t ime to grasp the inherent beauty of nature and a great work of art. â€Å"add uncles eleven fingers making shadow-plays of rajas and cats, hissing, becoming fingers again, the look of panic on sisters face an hour before† A lovely reminiscence of the poet about his uncle’s dexterity in shadow-play using his eleven fingers to create fascinating images of kings ,cats etc and sounds like hissing and the transformation of the shadows to fingers again. The humor in this is also appealing. Next lines reflect his sister’s fear of an impending tragedy just before her wedding. Through this and many other examples cited in the poem, everybody can relate to the poem. Then his mood changes to other face of life that he has seen or experienced which may be called a sad fraction of life but it is there still. He pictures the horrific existence of the mutilated lepers of Madurai against the exquisitely ornate stone sculptures of goddesses of dance in the majestic Meenakshi temple. All these are the very elements of which he and they are composed. They pass through him as he passes through them. The whole poem is about what we are composed of , the different forms in which the elements combine , the impact of time on the composition ,the process of the decomposition (the Madurai lepers) and finally death and destruction (eating and being eaten). In â€Å"Elements of Composition† he feels deep grief over the pitiable position of the leprous men of Madurai. The deformed postures of lepers and their troublesome movement reduce them to a skeleton, â€Å"Pillars†. The poet is anxious about the miserable condition of the lepers and so he calls gods and goddesses as â€Å"stone-eyed. Thus in this poem Ramanujam expresses his thoughts through the basic theory that all human beings are made out of same elements. He uses imagery and metaphor very dextrally and beautifully. Through this we also get to know about his soft soft for less fortunate human beings. Self-Portrait I resemble everyone ut myself, and sometimes see in shop-windows despite the well-knownlaws of optics, the portrait of a stranger, date unknown, often signed in a corner by my father. About the poem: This is an early poem written by Shri A. K. Ramanujam. In this he describes how every one of us, even if craving for a separate identity of ourselves, look like others. This similarity may not be present only in our looks but also our actions and personality. In the very first line he uses contrast as a tool to bring an element of surprise to the reader. The reader is made to want to know what he means when he says he resembles everyone but himself. How can that be possible and what does he mean by that. Then he goes on to say that he sees in shop windows that the image that is his own reflection doesn’t does his face but it is a portrait of someone else, maybe of many people in congregation but not his own for sure. He mentions the laws of optics to make it clear that it is not something supernatural happening here. Every law of nature is being followed suitably. Finally he recognizes that maybe he knows whose portrait is this. The portrait shows his forefathers mainly his own father. Metaphor has been use d extensively in this poem. The image being seen by the poet in a shopping window is nothing but self realization that al his actions and personality reflects that of his own father and there is nothing to believe that he has been unique in his actions or pursuits as yet. Thus Ramanujam has shown that he truly is a master of disguise. The poem relates the idea of everyone looking uniform. It is hard for people to be unique and find their own way. The common goal seems to be having a nice car, a lot of money and owning an expensive house or two. I believe people do put on a cover and see â€Å"the portrait of a stranger† staring back at them. While for the most part this is the common pattern, there are some people who attempt to be different and break this mold. Snakes No, it does not happen when I walk through the woods. But, walking in museums of quartz or the aisles of book stacks, looking at their geometry without curves and the layers of transparency that makes them opaque, dwelling on the yellowier vein in the yellow amber 10 or touching a book that has gold on its spine, I think of snakes* The twirls of their hisses rise like the tiny dust-cones on slow-noon roads 15 winding through the farmers* feet. Black lorgnettes are etched on their hoods, idiculous, alien, like some terrible aunt, a crest among tiles and scales that moult with the darkening half 20 of every moon. A basketful of ritual cobras comes into the tame little house, their brown- wheat glisten ringed with ripples They lick the room with their bodies, curves 25 uncurling, writing a sibilant alphabet of panic on my floor. Mother gives them milk in sauc ers. She watches them suck and bare the black-line design etched on the brass of the saucer. The snakeman wreathes their writhing round his neck for fathers smiling money. But I scream. Sister ties her braids with a knot of tassel But the weave of her knee-long braid has scales, their gleaming held by a score of clean new pins. I look till I see her hair again. My night full of ghosts from a sadness in a play, my left foot listens to my right footfall, a clockwork clicking in the silence within my walking. The clickshod heel suddenly strikes and slushes on a snake: I see him turn, 45 the green white of his belly measured by bluish nodes, a water-bleached lotus stalk plucked by a landsman hand. Yet panic rushes my body to my feet, my spasms wring and drain his fear and mine. I leave him sealed a flat-head whiteness on a stain. Now frogs can hop upon this sausage rope, flies in the sun will mob the look in his eyes, and I can walk through the woods. A basketful of ritual cobras Comes into the tame little house, Their brown-wheat glisten ringed with ripples. They lick the room with their bodies, curves Uncurling, writing a sibilant alphabet of panic On my floor. Mother gives them milk In saucers. She watches them suck And bare the black line design Etched on the brass of saucer. The snakes man wreathes their writhing Round his neck For father’s smiling Money. But I scream. Sister ties her braids With a knot of tassel. But the weave of her knee-long braid has scales, Their gleaming held by a score of clean new pins. I look till I see her again. About the poem: This is the second poem of the volume ‘The Striders’. When the poet moves in museums among stacks of books his subconscious remembers with tenacious fascination his early years in India. Snakes is among the best poems of Ramanujam. The poem begins on a note of suspense with an emphatic, No, it does not happen when I walk through thewood. This happens when he is walking through museums or libraries. Thedescription is of a snake that induces fear in the minks of all. The snakes take shelter in the museums, book shelves, glass-shelves, etc. ; The Poet says that the book of yellow vein, yellow amber would remind him of snakes, the shelf which is arranged in geometric lines would remind him of snakes. Ramanujam can be distracted by his own skill for description is seen in the apparently irrelevant but rived detail of the yellow vein in the yellow amber or the book with gold on its spine. The amber yellow and gold and the curves with the imagination think of snakes. The Poet compares the intermittent hissing of the snakes to the little clouds of dust that arise one walks along a dusty road. They have the nature of winding through ones feet exactly the way the snacks do. The hoods, the snacks have display a kind of design resembling the etched black lorgnettes. It looks ridiculous all the same. It is likened to the terrible aunt who is proud of her titles. The snakes scales mount with the warning of the moon. Them, he explains a real incident. One day a snake man has brought a basket full of cobras to the poets home. The snakes are Jet out and the person watches them more on the floor. Their bodies are wheat brown in colour with rings all over. The way they move on the floor looks like a strange alphabet written here and there. The poets mother feeds the snakes with saucers of milk. As they suck the milk, the etched design on the brass reappears. The snake man then wears them on his neck in order to impress the poet’ father. The latter gives him money. The Poet has a sister who has long hair touching the ground. He notices her tying her hair in braids. She takes great care in tending them and decorates them with tassels. These braids look very much like the snakes and the weaves themselves resemble the scales on the body. Both have the nature of shinning brightly. In other works the poet is often reminded of snakes when he looks at the braids of his sister. He is so afraid that he waits impatiently to see hair trimmed and tried up neatly. Then, the poet narrates the happening while he walks along the forest path suddenly he feels as if he is walking on a slippery surface. It is a snake and it writhes in pain. Its body is green -white the bluish nodes resemble a lotus stalk that has been plucked lately. He steps on it until it is dead; He is now confident and is not afraid. He expects the frogs to hop over the sausage rope without fear of being eaten up. The flies can come round the eye part of the snake and he himself has grown at all. In this poem too poet has used metaphor and imagery with amazing fulfilling ness. Through the examples he cited he shows that he is close to India and his native place at that. He has his own share of fears and amusements from his childhood that he reminisces tot his day. He also shows shows his empathy for the poor by mentioning what sankesman has to do just to entertain the rich people. This way of life is there not only in India but everywhere in the world but citing this example from his childhood we get to know about the idea from a child’s eyes. Snakes are held in awe and reverence by religious-minded Hindus. Hindu scriptures are replete with stories of snakes which could claim equality with man and gods. The snake is very much present in the religious consciousness of the Hindus. Ramanujan exploits this ethos in Snakes. The poem originates in the poets 4 hooded memory of the snakes and meanders through experiences concerning snakes and snakesmen. The sudden dawning of memory about snakes which overtakes the poet in anexpected places leads him to the recollection of ritual cobras* in his ancestral home and the weird snakesman with cobras wound round his neck. Snakes concludes with the recapitulation of a night when the poet accidently trampled on a snake with his *clickshod heeP and left it like a sausage rope dead in the woods. Now the woods are safe for the poet! But are they safe for the snake? The lines suggest a sad contrast. The snake which has sent tremors through man is now being preyed upon by frogs and flies. Now the woods are safe for the poet. Probably an ironic statement The Striders And search for certain thin- stemmed, bubble-eyed water bugs. See them perch on dry capillary legs weightless on the ripple skin of a stream. No, not only prophets alk on water. This bug sits on a landslide of lights and drowns eye- deep into its tiny strip of sky About the poem: Strider is the New England name for a water insect The main structural element in the poem is the poets memory going back into his cultural moorings in India, the land of the yogis. The central metaphor, the strider, stands for the yogi who bears several unexpected simil arities with the insect. Ramanujans symbolic exploration into these similarities opens up new insights in the reader and he is persuaded to accept the ingenious identification of the two apparently dissimilar concepts. There is close resemblance between the strider and the yogi in several respects. Like the yogi, the strider also walks on water. Both have bright eyes. The yogi pays no attention to food and comfort and so his legs are thin; the strider also has Capillary legs*. Both the yogi and the strider levitate and meditate. The yogi attains the light of spiritual perfection and the strider sits on a landslide of lights*. The strider is presented as a mystic symbol for the yogi who has attained detachment from this world and is on his way along the illumined path (tiny strip of sky) leading to the Supreme. With eyes like bubbles; bright, shining eyes very thin long legs which look like capillary tubes In the case of the yogi it amounts to levitation, the art of floating in the air with the help of spiritual powers, surface of the stream having ripples walking on water is supposed to be one of the mystical powers of a yogi. Striders also do it suggests the meditative mood. The strider sits concentrating on the tiny strip of sky f . In the case of the yogi, the *tiny strip of sky* is the spiritual path of detachment leading to Enlightenment. On The Death of A Poem Image consult one another, a conscience- tricken jury, and come slowly to a sentence. I love the economy of words and the playful pun on the word â€Å"sentence† . The poetic process ,if one may call it that, is such that the poem dies still-born at times leaving the poet disgruntled . Some times the sentence may come out after all which will produce a semblance of a poem . At other times the verse describing the process is itself a lovely poem as this one is. Of Mothers, among Other Things I smell upon this twisted backbone tree the silk and white petal of my mother’s youth. From her ear-rings three diamonds splash a handful of needles, 5 nd I see my mother ran back from rain to the crying cradles. The rains tack and sew with broken thread the rags of the tree-tasselled light 10 But her hands are a wet eagles two black pink-crinkled feet, one talon crippled in a garden- trap set for a mouse. Her sarees do not cling: they hang, loose 15 feather of a onetime wing. Gathered Grace My cold parchment tongue licks bark in the mouth when I see her four still sensible fingers slowly flex to pick a grain of rice from the kitchen floor. 20 About the Poem : The source of the poem is familial memory, memory about the mother. The imagery in the first two lines suggests the futility of the poetic language in expressing the bitter memory. The poet nostalgically recalls through several tough and rough images the loving care of a mother. The mothers figure emerges mingled with the pathos of the poets childhood, memory serving as a catalyst Consciousness goes back to resurrect a memory symbol. It is the Mother in white silk wearing diamond earrings, thin in appearance and with a crippled palm. The imagery in the last two lines serves as an objective correlative and makes others almost ineffective. The figure of the mother flexing her fingers to pick a grain of rice from the kitchen floor is one of the most touching homely imageries in all Ramanujans poetry. The black bone tree reminds the poet of his young mother wearing a white silk saree. The saree is wound on her giving a twisted appearance especially because she is thin, piercing rays of reflected light that appears like needles fasten and stitch light that passes through the tree-leaves and branches giving them an appearance of a cluster of shining tassels, pink coloured, cramp and wrinkled feet Exposure to rain made the feet so. The crippled palm of the mother. The palm was crippled in a minor accident with a mousetrap. When I see kitchen : A touching picture of the floor mother trying to pick a grain of rice from the kitchen floor, probably a crumb left behind by the son after his rice-meal. Still Another for Mother And that woman beside the wreckage van on Hyde Park street: she will not let me rest as I slowly cease to be the towns brown stranger and guest She had thick glasses on. Was large, buxom, 5 like some friends mother. Wearing chintz like all of them who live there, eating mints on the days verandahs. And the handsome hort-limbed man with a five-finger patch of gray 10 laid on his widows peak, turned and left her as I walked at them out of the after- glow of a whisky sour. She stood there as if nothing had happened yet (perhaps nothing did) flickered at by the neons on the door, 15 the edges of her dress a fuzz, lit red. Fumbled at keys, wishbone shadows on the catwalk, as though they were not keys , but words after talk, or even beads. He walked straight on, towards me, beyond me, didnt stop at the clicks of red 20 on the signals. And she just stood there, looking at his walking on, me looking at her looking on. She wanted then not to be absent perhaps on the scene 25 if he once so much as even thought of looking back. Perhaps they had fought. Worse still, perhaps they had not fought 57 I discovered that mere walking was polite 30 and walked on, as if nothing had happened to her, or to me: something opened in the past and I heard something shut in the future, quietly, 35 like the heavy door of my mothers black-pillared, nineteenth-century silent house, given on her marriage day to my father, for a dowry. About the Poem: The poem is based on an incident involving a woman and her husband on Hyde Park Street. This chance experience releases a flood of memory. The woman and her husband appear to have been there only to separate. The woman is large and buxom, the man is handsome and short-limbed. He left her at the doorsteps fumbling for the keys and walked on straight nonchalantly. The woman looks on at her husbands walking and the poet looks at her looking on. However, this experience disturbs the poets rest, Something opened in the past with repercussions on the future. Essentially, the poem is an attempt to retreat into the past to discover a sense of well- being in the image of the mother. The woman on Hyde Park Street opens the door of the poets consciousness to reveal his mothers nineteenth century house given to his father as dowry. The house sanctified the marriage and later the very birth of the poet The ‘simile’ used in fifth line has been used very wisely and it tells us that the poet is skillful artist when it comes to using this tool. the memory about the mother house is inseparable from that of the house. The house as dowry was one of the stabilizing links between mother and father. A River In Madurai, city of temples and poets, who sang of cities and temples, every summer a river dries to a trickle n the sand, baring the sand ribs, straw and womens hair clogging the watergates at the rusty bars under the bridges with patches of repair all over them the wet stones glistening like sleepy crocodiles, the dry ones shaven water-buffaloes lounging in the sun The poets only sang of the floods. He was there for a day when they had the floods. People everywhere talked of the inches rising, of the precise number of cobbled steps run over by the water, rising on the bathing places, and the way it carried off three village houses, one pregnant woman and a couple of cows named Gopi and Brinda as usual. The new poets still quoted he old poets, but no one spoke in verse of the pregnant woman drowned, with perhaps twins in her, kicking at blank walls even before birth. He said: the river has water enough to be poetic about only once a year and then it carries away in the first half-hour three village houses, a couple of cows named Gopi and Brinda and one pregnant woman expecting identical twins with no moles on their bodies, with different coloured diapers to tell them apart. About the poem : â€Å"A River† is one of Ramanujam’s finest poems appeared in â€Å"The Striders† in 1966. It is a poem on the vaigai which flours throu gh Madurai. A City that has been the seat of Tamil Culture. The poem is an evocation of a river. The poet refers to the river as a helping as well as a destructive force. In the Sangam Period the city had many great pundits who sang the glory of their town, Language asd river, They wrote profusely when the river was in spate. At the same time there were times when the river remained dry. On the Sandy bed could be seen he hair and stow dogging the Watergates. The iron bars under the bridge are in need of repair. The wet stones all like the sleeping crocodiles. The dry stones look like the sharen buffaloes. It is a wonder for the poet because not too often such scenes are described by the poets. The water in the river makes all the poets imaginative and sing verses about it. A poet visits the river and examines the scene quite closely. But the scene witnessed by him is different. As it was raining the level of the water in the river kept rising. The whole city was flooded. Three village houses were swept away. The news came of a pregnant lady and a couple of cows being washed away. Even the new poets do not bother to write about all these things. They look at it still in the old way as seen by the old poets. A careful, imaginative consideration should bring in many things so far unsaid about the river. It is a pity that no one has the heart to feel about the heart with twin children in her womb getting drowned in the river. In â€Å"A River† Ramanujan throws light on the reality of the present and the past. In the past, the poets were the appreciators of the cities, temples, rivers, streams and are indifferent to the miseries of human beings and animals. The river dries to a trickle in every summer the â€Å"poets sang only of the floods. † Flood is the symbol of destruction to person and property. The poets of today still quoted the old poets sans the relevancy of life: â€Å"The new poets still quoted the old poets, but no one spoke in verse of the pregnant woman – drowned, with perhaps twins in her, kicking at the blank walls even before birth. † The image of â€Å"pregnant woman† implies a fine example of two generations, the present and the future. K. Sumana in a lucid manner: â€Å"The poet narrates the poem through the mouth of a visitor to make it objective. The greatness of the poem lies in the fact that the traditional praise for river has been contrasted with what is actually experienced by the people during the floods. Apart from presenting the grim realities of a rover in spate, Ramanujan hints at the sterility of new Tamil poets who still quoted the old poets. † Extended Family Yet like grandfather I bathe before the village crow the dry chlorine water my only Ganges the naked Chicago bulb a cousin of the Vedic sun slap soap on my back like father and think in proverbs like me I wipe myself dry with an unwashed Sears turkish towel like mother I hear faint morning song (though here it sounds Japanese) and three clear strings next door through kitchen clatter like my little daughter I play shy and over crotch my body not yet full of thoughts novels and children I hold my peepee like my little son play garden hose in and out the bathtub like my grandson I look up unborn at myself like my great great-grandson I am not yet may never be my future dependent on several people yet to come About the Poem : This poem tells us the way poet attaches himself to his native place and his roots even when he is residing in a foreign country and using foreign made products He says that he is as much attached to his pedigree that he feels the connection even to this day in his everyday pursuits. He says that when he bathes in the dry chlorine water in the city, he still feels it is the same water of Ganges his grandfather used to bathe in in open, and maybe he accompanied him many a times. He compares the electric bulb he uses for light to the dependence of his grandfather and the likes on sun. He remembers the way his father used to bathe him. He kind of misses him. He says he still remembers all the popular proverbs his father used to apply in daily life. He relates the voices he hears in the morning to the sweet singing voice of his mother, which used to fill the house in the morning. He uses other examples too mainly kiddish once that are part life of many. That he compares his actions to his little daughter and his son. He then goes on to relate himself to his grandson too and see a similarity between his actions and his grandson’s. He says even though he doesn’t have a grandson yet but he is sure whenever he will be there he will have something in common with the poet himself. And thus all these people by themselves define the poet. And he says he is not defined fully till all these people are taken into account. Metaphor has been used very wisely and in an appealing way. Poem in itself is a beautiful idea. Similar idea has been expressed in Self portrait too though here it is in more detailed way. Astronomer Sky-man in a manhole with astronomy for dream, astrology for nightmare; fat man full of proverbs, the language of lean years, living in square after almanac square prefiguring the day of windfall and landslide through a calculus of good hours, clutching at the tear in his birthday shirt as at a hole in his mildewed horoscope, squinting at the parallax of black planets, his Tiger, his Hare moving in Sanskrit zodiacs, forever troubled by the fractions, the kidneys in his Tamil flesh, is body the Great Bear dipping for the honey, the woman-smell in the small curly hair down there. About the poem: This poem is probably about Ramanujam’s father. His father was both an astronomer and an astrologer. He has also writher an essay on the same topic. Ramanujam’s father was both an astrologer and astronomer and had good knowledge of both these areas. Thus it was hard for Ramanujam to understand how he could bring consistency in his though while thinking about any stars. This is because science just says that stars are balls of helium burning and having no direct control on our life whatsoever. However astrology has a different perspective. It suggests that these stars and planets do have a direct role in our life. He is calling his father a sky-man. He tells him about stars about starts as a part of astrology, as some magnificent objects. Many times this happens when he wants the child poet to fall to sleep having dreams about those great stars. In fact stars have definitely become a part of his beautiful dreams in that way. But on the other hand, when his father talks about stars as a part of astrology, and tells him they have a control on his life, it makes the poet scared. He says the person telling him all that is a fat man now and using proverbs are a way of talking for him. And this is quiet different from the way he used to be when he was young. Through various calculations and diagrams he claims to tell them about their futures. He handles all this as a careful artist, nothing less. Then he mentions the great bear which is a constellation in the sky. And he uses these to amuse others. Through these and many other ways he becomes astrologer and astronomers alternately amusing and entertaining other.