The caliban world.

Once at one of our literature class, at +2. Shakespere's Tempest to be precise. Our teacher threw a general question to the class "can any one of  give me a consise summery of the character of 'CALIBAN' ?". This Caliban was one of the crooked villains of the play.

I don't quite remember if anyone did answer the question or not... but i do clearly remember her mumbling " I hope none of  you become one of him ".  At the time i could not understand what she meant or intented...

Now after all these years(6 on my count), I thought of those words again. so i googled the question ( miracle of internet).. and i found this..

"As he did in many of his plays, Shakespeare uses The Tempest to ask questions about how well society and nature intersect. Most of the characters in this play exist in a civilized world, although certainly not all of them are civilized. Caliban, though, is referred to several times as a "natural man." What then does it mean in Elizabethan society to be a natural man, to exist as a natural man, as Caliban exists?

Caliban serves to illustrate ideas about the social hierarchy of the Renaissance world, which formulated a socially rigid — and very political — hierarchy of God, king, man, woman, beast. This order was based on the patriarchal tradition and the teachings of religious leaders, which postulate a hierarchical order for mankind based on physiological and physical characteristics. Other means of defining a place within this order were emotional stability and the ability to reason. According to this rather rigid social hierarchy, Caliban belongs at the bottom of the Elizabethan social hierarchy, having little perceived social worth.

Caliban is more closely defined as an innocent — more like a child who is innocent of the world and its code of behavior.

Shakespeare describes this creature as an innocent — perhaps half man and half fish.  What is clear is that Caliban's behavior suggests many questions about what is natural and what is unnatural. Some acts represent Caliban's attempts to survive, but this is not acceptable behavior among civilized men. These are the actions of wild, untutored animals. Caliban demonstrates no sense of morality nor any ability to understand or appreciate the needs of anyone other than himself. In Caliban's self-centeredness, he is little more than an animal. He wants to indulge his desires, without control. This is what being free means to Caliban, whose cry for freedom clarifies many of his actions."

I read this for  a long time and took a look around .. and may be, just may  i understand what my teacher meant.. or intended.

He

He looked around, to the endless brightness surrounding him. A rarity to where he belonged and when he belonged. Tress and grassy ground beneath the trees splendid at light. He could see, twinkling of the suns along the shiny roofs of houses. He cared never to look around and was glad he did. Glad that his eyes shore, glad that he smiled, glad that it happened unprovoked. Then he felt the wind, he breathed the air. Cold, unwarmed. He felt happy. unprovoked.

he watched everyone,
and saw none.
he listened to all,
and heard null.
he wants to be lost,
with crowd, he is cursed.

blah and blah..

i went to a Lhakhang ( monastery ) today. well my mother won't believe it in a hundred life time, but i did. And as opposed to any suspicion i did go with full faith and convictions. Faith, i surely did seem to misplace it during my torrid times but had never lost it. As someone had said once "one who stops believing in god, starting believing in anything and everything around them".

God. one topic of intense disscussion with my mother. It makes a habit out of you.. constantly seeking divine interveintion.. I always thought of temple and lhakhang not as a place to be awestruck or submit oneself to hero worshiping, but as a place of serenity where u renew yourself.. where you can reassure the belife and faith in you as a person and seek inspiration to better it.

It sure is a great place to mirror at self. to look and think for you honestly. we all are so busy living for other, to be a supply pipe of pride for other, try to look good for others approving glances, smile when it calls for a frown and so on. Fact of it is , I hate it. Being the puppet of the society where the measure of a person begins and ends with what a person pretends, rather than what a person is. Like i once heard "need of growing up not to abondon but to preserve that innocence in you" .. but am losing it.. that battle to preserve it..



p.s. its not rage.. just lines written with a spinning head after a stick or two of fags 1 month after quitting smoke!!

Technicolor illusion of clouded head.

With an ambering state of frozen mind,

I watch, distant twilights bath in red.

As the horizon slowly cedes to the Grey,

Those green hills defeats to the fade.

Fumes in the different shades of silver,

Blackens my blurring sights and beyond.

These infants of the orange restless flame,

Held by my fingers, all soiled and brown.

I gazed, the golden day running swiftly away,

Chased by the dumb and darkening night.

As the empty blue sky surrenders its reign,

To the sparks of stars and the moonlit white

.

Another drag between my now purple lips,

Pushes me in a paled sense of existence.

Falling to the velvet raid of Divine haze,

Embracing the delight of this crimson delusion.

The Orphan and The Rain...

Clouds on the sky,
flying alone and high.
Within them, they have
the raindrops kept safe.
and on, and on, they sweep
searching… for places to weep.
Places alone and isolate,
for pouring out its fate.

and then it rained.
Oh, with music it blend…
With thunder here
and lightening there.
The drops … they all fall.
With breeze, they jostle.
Freely they then land,
on someone they offend…

The child in the street,
walking alone on his feet.
Within him, he have
the teardrops kept safe.
And he runs with closed lip
searching for place to weep.
Place alone and isolate,
for cursing at his fate.

And then he cried.
Oh,the lonely child…
For mother here,
and for father there.
The tears… they all fall
with breeze they jostle.
But they all go in vain,
Vanishing, with the rain….