Book review

Every month, I read and review one ‘Amazon first read’ but have never shared the reviews here despite some fabulous books that I’ve read. This month I happened to pick up a book, which I would like to talk about, as it comments on the most relevant topic – a disturbing fact that nobody likes to discuss.

Before I share my review of the book, I would like to quote a few lines from William Blake’s poem ‘The Little Black Boy,’ written in 1789:

My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
……. 

My mother taught me underneath a tree 
And sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say. 

Look on the rising sun: there God does live 
And gives his light, and gives his heat away. 
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning joy in the noonday.
……Read full poem

Sadly, little seems to have changed!!

Under Color of Law (Trevor Finnegan, #1) by Aaron Philip Clark is a chilling and riveting account of the plight of black recruits and officers, so reminiscent of recent protests against the police department. This is an inside story of what goes behind the scene, an eye-opener about how some officers are brutal enough to indulge in violent means to eliminate those they don’t like. This fictional story smacks of stark realism, often brushed aside in connection with the high-handedness of cops.

Trevor joins LAPD (Los Angeles Police Department) with dreams of becoming a top-ranking officer and doesn’t give an ear to his father’s warnings that the system is rotten. He is ready to take all the pressure and has to lock horns with the corrupt and selfish persons around him. Does he succeed? Could he get justice for Brandon whose body has been found with no clues? Clark’s power-packed style of writing keeps you turning the pages and my heart sank with each development. I could feel the pain, the frustration, the yearning and the hope of Trevor who refuses to give up.

Clark’s characters are believable, crafted with incisive detail as if he has met them. Trevor’s confidence, determination and resilience shines through out the story. Joey Garcia and Boston Walsh have been handled brilliantly but it is Trevor’s relationship with Sarada that adds a touch of tenderness to the story. The book remains inconclusive but I could understand that the issues that have been raised can’t be resolved in a day and it would take years to see the change of attitudes. I would eagerly look forward to the next book in the series. Highly recommended!

Balroop Singh.

Seeking…

Photo credit: SHAH MARAI/AFP/Getty Images) 

Despair and suffering has been the fate of women for centuries. I am dismayed that it still is in many parts of the globe. The long, endless battle against conservative forces that take pleasure in subjugation continues! The following poem is inspired from this thought.

We don’t want to mother a son
In this land of Taliban
We don’t want a daughter either
It’s better to end this race
If they can’t keep pace with the world.

Let the seeds dry even if they are forced into us
Let’s pledge not to nurture them
Let our wombs wither – our only weapon
To gain control over servitude of centuries
Our hope is still alive.

Is there any need to look elsewhere?
Is it fair to wait for outside help?
When our own spirit is enough.
Muted faces convey profound message:
Silent storms sway the earth.

Our shrieks search a new world
Equitable and enlightened.
Our dreams are no longer monochromatic
Warped by societal norms
Red ink is all over them, seeking justice.
© Balroop Singh, September 2021.

It’s poet’s choice at Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge this week. You too can join with the image and form of your own choice. Thanks.

The Song Of Peace

My inkpot is empty
My words hang in the air
Yearning to communicate.

I stir my words in the teacup
Their warmth is wafting
Eager to touch you.

I try to carve them on your heart
They melt and mix in your blood
Losing their charm.

How will posterity read them?
I need new inkpots
My journal is wistful and forlorn.

Embedded within its pages
My words wish to soar
Words that whisper and warble…

The song of peace.

© Balroop Singh

Thank you. 

For more poetry: click here to hear Magical Whispers

Have you checked my latest release? – Slivers: Chiseled Poetry

Dreams: Beliefs & Superstitions

Today I am emerging from my comfort zone, into which I have slipped lately. When I started blogging, my topics were connected with human emotions and reactions of people. Non-fiction was my favorite genre of writing. 

Then I discovered my niche and got pushed by my muse most of the time. Poetry provided me a soft spot into which I immersed myself completely. I’ve almost abandoned writing about topics of human interest that still draw a lot of traffic to my blog.

This post is inspired from a recent discussion on dreams.

Dreams have remained a mystery yet they are unique experiences that are said to be significant, as they are a manifestation of our desires, feelings and emotions. They could be unexpressed thoughts or ideas that struggle to see the light of the day. My grand daughter says she often dreams that I am staying in her home forever, and asks me if it is possible.

Dreams could be as innocent as that one! 

Or as superstitious as this one: It is believed that morning dreams could be messages or warnings like the dream of a young lady who had an intuition that her husband was stepping into a risky business. She dreamt that he returns from his business trip with gray hair.

A dream that places you in some celebrations is considered to be a bad portent and is associated with potential bereavement in the family. Losing jewelry in such dreams is inauspicious. However, I have many times dreamt that I can’t find my jewelry box or my favorite necklace is missing but I have never faced any adverse effects! Probably some beliefs are so illogical.  

If you meet a dead relative or friend in a dream and you happen to give them something, that is said to be too bad. On the other hand, if they give you a gift, it is good. My aunt told me that her dead father-in law gave her two white pigeons in her dream and later she was blessed with twins.

Never respond to somebody’s call in a dream, that could be a call from heaven or hell!

My grandma refused to discuss a dead relative (a lady she didn’t like) for fear of her visits in her dreams. Whenever we would ask, “Ma, why didn’t you like her?” She always responded,” We’ll discuss that in the morning.”

If you keep returning to the same house in your dreams, it signifies your attachment to it. Probably that is your childhood home or you yearn to be there more often.

Being surrounded by water from all directions in your dreams or whatever route you take, if you are unable to escape, signifies anxiety. Since dreams are made of bits and pieces of our memory that blends past and present, they seem absurd like most of the times when I get surrounded by gushing water, I am riding a bike, which I used only as a teenager. Often I wake up from this recurrent dream, reaching nowhere.

A nightmare that I could never forget is that my car flies off a cliff and lands in a valley but I woke up with the impact.

Lucid dreams are most pleasant and everybody agrees that we can go back to sleep to continue enjoying them.

Some dreams can be as real as this one – whenever I can’t find a clean restroom to pee, I wake up with the realization that I actually need to pee!

In the dreams of my friend, who is an empty nester, her children are still small, running around in her home.

I’ve never noticed color in my dreams. What about you? I hope you have some dreams to share.
© Balroop Singh

Thank you.

Colleen’s Ekphrastic #PhotoPrompt #TankaTuesday

celestial showers
besiege us as we step out
banal biases melt
in the light of our lustrous love
streaks of hope exorcise smog

***

when our paths merged
to gather divine blessings
shadows departed
dormant dreams whirled around us
ending layers of darkness

© Balroop Singh, August 2021.

*** 

Thanks to Colleen M. Chesebro for this challenge, which explores Ekphrastic writing inspired by visual art (photographs). Cheryl, from last month’s challenge, provided the photo for this month’s challenge. 

Thank you. 

For more poetry: click here to hear Magical Whispers

Have you checked my latest release? – Slivers: Chiseled Poetry