Queen Mothers and Gun Salutes

Ashwati Thirunal, Attingal Rani
Queen Mother of Velnad, you’re very savvy
The movies paint you like a damsel distressed
The stories neglect you, they’re grandson focused
I shall sing for you, my perspective differs
Dive into John Child’s records for references
Of ‘her black majesty Queen Ashur’.

Gun salutes?

Mystery… Why salute queen mothers seperately?
The Brits don’t do that generally, just blow their cannons for kings.

As queen regent you faced many difficulties
The Barons Eight a corrupted nobility
Domestic turmoil as they vied for more power
You played them and the traders against each other
After you chased the Portuguese away up north
Venetian gold piled into coffers, pepper prices soared
John Company was starting to gain a monopoly.
The Dutch, the Danes and Arabs sent you fearful entreaties
After the Company began to construct their own fort.

John Child’s men refused to stop, so you readied your last resort
While the unscrupulous Guilford committed atrocities on your people

—

Time passes, an invitation for a feast is sent
A banquet summons from the Queen for tribute owed
John’s men come, bring riches of wrong currency
‘Money’s no good if not Venetian gold
Eat! We’ll discuss it in the morning
Oh, and leave all your weapons here’
Hundred Company men killed
Payback for crimes committed
But mostly just politics
And business

The Queen feigns ignorance, claims a rival faction did it
‘Oh, my kingdom is in turmoil,’ she weeps and weeps and weeps
A convenient excuse for her grandson to ride to war
Against the Barons Eight, and thus the rise of Travancore

(Did the British salute the Travancore Queen Mothers thereafter because of this woman’s cunning, I wonder. 19 guns for the king and something like 11 for his mother, which I found strange. Also, Guilford was a horrible racist man, but the guy who replaced him was even worse.)

(If you’re wondering about the picture, the women in this region weren’t allowed to cover their breasts. I have no idea why, but it was illegal. There must be a story about this tradition that I haven’t uncovered yet… Brahmin women could wear a shawl when they ventured outside their homes. This is important to mention since it was used as an excuse for genocide when Mysore and France invaded during the great grandson’s reign… And part of the Napoleonic wars, I might add.)

Superpowers and Geography

I know this may be a little hard to digest
We’d like to think our own people are special
But the truths of history do seem to suggest
That location is what sets the level
(Of cultural and economic development)

A new discovery shakes the known world of man
Domestication of horses brings upheaval
Central Asians conquer with their cavalry van
Creating brand new geo polities
(New heirarchies and super hegemonies)

Migrations, intermingling of old and new
Elamites become Persian, Minoans become Greek
Skill and wealth move to where they feel they’ll get their due
In search for a more profitable streak

The discovery of sailing the monsoon winds
Now sea trade becomes more profitable than land
The old order crumbles, for progress here rescinds
The power of past authority, buried in sand

The discovery of motorized transport
Is the paradigm we’re living in today
And just as with all of history’s previous diction
It’s about location, location, location

Image: http://www.slate.com/blogs/the_vault/2014/01/02/edward_quin_a_gif_of_his_atlas_displaying_the_boundaries_of_the_known_world.html

(This poem is a bit all over the place. I guess it would make more sense to write it as an essay, but I’d have found that an extremely boring task.

I find that China is a peculiar exception to this phenomenon, or at least it used to be.)

[Poem] The Brothers Gracchi (A Duet)

121 BC, Roma hanging from a ledge
Citizens unhappy, jobs scarce, slaves are teeming
Wealthy Patricians too fat to care, with their hedge
They’re too busy with their political scheming

THE EXPANSION

Carthage gone, Spain conquered, foot in North Africa
Macedon and Persia defeated to yield Greece
Empire grows. Gaul and Liguria thrown back
North Italy, east Adriatic, slaves galore
Engine of conquest unleashed, powered by the slave market
Rome becomes wealthy Empire. Foreign labour disrupts
Economic disparity grows. Citizen soldiers back home
After long and hard campaigns, find themselves gone bankrupt

2. THE BROTHERS GRACCHI, TIBERIUS

In this angry storm are born the brothers Gracchi
Sons of Cornelia, grandsons of Africanus Scipi (Oh)
Plebian dynamite. Revolution is born!

Tiberius, first over the wall of Carthage
He wisely surrenders in Spain, saving his men (lives vs pride’s dressage)
Tried for cowardly surrender, the plebs he wins over (with speech and pen)
Getting his first taste of the power of the mob (populism begins to glower)
He gets himself elected tribune of the plebs (the might of his gob)
And begins a new campaign, his hardest one yet (Roman tradition ebbs)
for the equitable distribution of wealth (he’s all set)
The beasts of Italy have caves to stay, he says, (and in better health)
While common Romans have only the sun and air (but only during the day)
His reform is vetoed by a bought off colleague (how unfair)
The power thus abused, sets dangerous precedent (and deep intrigue)
All his legislations vetoed, Tiberius fights (with no antecedent)
He vetoes everything, forcing Rome to a halt (for the common man’s rights)
Giving them a taste of their own medicine (with a nasty tinge of salt)

3. THE VETO

A senator tries to pass a law, “Veto,” Tiberius cries
Allocation of funds for… VETO!
Magestr… VETO!
Lex At… VETO!
Hello…VETO!
Friends, Romans… VETO!

VETO!!!

Tiberius bends the law, plebian votes cast
That remove rival colleague from tribune office,(nearly his breath’s last)
Mob uncontrollable. They almost kill the man (his name may be Octavius)
Who dared block Tiberius! After the pop vote (Octi to safety ran)
Finally victory! Tiberius’ reforms are passed. (Tiberius gloats)

Tiberius continues in his quest. He knows
That he will be killed without the power of office (magisterium bestows)
He runs for tribune again, something unheard of (twice in a row, this)
He makes big promises to the people. (from his magical loft)
The senate spreads rumours that he wants to be king (A dangerous ripple)
Voting does not commence. Violence ensues… (Mourners sing)
Tiberius and his followers are killed (thrown into Tiber’s deadly blue)

The sacrosanct tribune has been murdered, (133bc)

4. THE BROTHERS GRACCHI, GAIUS

Gaius is a passionate man… Perhaps too much so
He gets so emotional during speeches (That Gaius, ho ho ho!)
That he makes a slave sit behind (While rhetoric screeches)
and pluck a lyre to quiet his mind
Whenever he gets too fired up on the rostra

A very different man from his late brother (Why so, Mother Cornelia?)

As quaestor in Sardinia, he looks after his men
The senate is wary of another Gracchi demagogue (They fear Gracchi kin)
They trick him with technicalities to stay away from Rome(remain in fog)
But you can’t pin a son of Cornelia down (he misses home)

He returns to Rome, breaking from honoured tradition,
Defending self against senatorial plots (with legal oration)
Gaius runs for tribune! The people really love him. (he’s no lout)
He uses his brother’s memory to great effect (plebian stim)
Passing retroactive laws to punish brother’s killers (vengeful reflect)
More populist reforms, and now even wooing the Knights (they’re big billers)
The grain dole, giving Italians the vote, etc (all sorts of new rights)
Without even running he becomes tribune again (plans for a tribe Italia)

5. LIVIUS DRUSUS AND THE RISE OF POPULISM

The senators start playing the Gracchi populist game
Gaius goes to Carthage. And when he returns to Rome(else his fire is tame)
Finds the people have been set against him by senate lies(bye palantine home)
Gaius moves to the slums, to try and regain his power (he never shies)
He barely loses his election for third term as tribune(no water in shower)
He goes to the people and claims electoral sabotage(to be legally immune)
His men kill a senator. Rome now under martial law(civil war on front yard)

Gaius is caught,decapitated head filled with lead and thrown into the river
And so the seeds of Destruction for the Republic are sown to grow and flower.

Image: François Topino-Lebrun – The Death of Gaius Gracchus

(Phew… I usually don’t spend more than a few minutes writing a poem. This one took me a couple of hours…)

[Poem] Musashi Tires of Mortal Duels

A katana in each hand, Miyamoto Musashi…
Hundred men he slew in one night, in moonlit paddy fields

Now his life is an unending duel
Fate can be so very cruel
He fights with an oar against Sasaki
Knowing reach is better than shield

Challengers come every day
Killing them is the only way
The Samurai way
Why can’t they all just go away
And leave him be?

The curse of fame

Time to retire to a monastery, and write a book

[Poem] The Demise of Tamilakam

A long time ago, in the land I write in

There were once four great kingdoms

The Chera, the Chola, Pandya and the Ay Velir

They used to elect two kings to reign

For eight year terms, senior and junior

Until one day the senior kings decided to stay forever

They warred against each other. They were vain

The banners of the bow, the fish, the tiger and the elephant

In battle they consumed each other

Driven by their pursuit of power

Making their kingdoms easy pickings

For foreign invasions

And indoctrination

Their clocks had stopped ticking.

(I would not have added the Ay since they started off as vassals, but seeing as how they survived from BCE times till 1950AD, I thought it would be a mistake to leave them out. Also… Chalukyas, Kadambas, Chirakkal, etc I have considered as Ay, but all the dynasties are so intermingled through marriage by this time it doesn’t really matter any more.)

[Poem] 1200 BC, when civilization collapsed

Rewind! Three thousand years ago,

Bronze age! Trade in tin and copper

Egypt, global superpower

Beaureaucrats there maximize manpower.

Every harvest is recorded

Every tithe marked by savvy scribes

Super specialised citizenry

For maximum efficiency

Hitites, Minoan Greeks, Babylonians

Indus(?), Elamites, Assyrians

Are some of the other big names

In the international trade game.

The Hittites even build a city near no water

Getting rich on trade, conquest and slaughter.

Then the rains stop, earthquakes real bad

Tsunamis of rock. Mother Nature goes mad.

Famine and drought!

The people shout!

Diseases spread!

Industry dead!

Trade routes disperse!

Complete systems Collapse

Many scribes die!

Heiroglyphs mean nigh!

Knowledge is lost!

Such great cost!

Cities burn!

As Time turns.

Administrations crumble!

And kings bumble.

Enter The Enigmatic Sea People!

The historian’s nighttime terror

Traders turned pirates!

Or into migrating conquerors!

Welcome to the Iron Age!

Assyria are now the world’s number one

They go on a manic killing spree

And are hated by everyone.

Until great king Cyrus, from out of nowhere,

Puts them in their place.

(Technically, the Medes conquers Assyria, and then Cyrus conquers the Medes. Empire wise, the Assyrian is replaced by the Persian, which is what I was going for here.)

[Poem] Ancestral Truths

The average person is made up

Of three generations of subjective truth

You, your parents’ and grandparents’

Coz your folks are less likely to lie to you

You drink from experience’s cup

120 years of history’s soup

The narratives flavoured by traits inherent

Memories like a safari, uncaged zoo

An example:

Granddad a Jacobite exorcist

Dad a lapsed company executive

Demon spirits real or psychological trauma?

You hear both sides and make your own conclusions

Grandmother a Red Cross nurse

Seen a world war waged in Africa

And partition of Pakistan and India

Mother a doctor in the city

Helped fight a war against leprosy

And still battles the System’s apathy

I am shaped by their subjective truths

In my mind, their eternal moots

Their lives have shaped me, whether I like it or not

To my nephews and nieces I’ll pass on these 120 years of thought.

[Poem] The Finger

Lend me your ears while I expound on this gesture

Lend me your minds as I delve through literature

Lend me your hands as I demonstrate this picture

Of a gesture most ancient, two thousand years and even more

That’s how long we’ve been letting our fingers rise and soar

Lift up your middle digit, from within a tight fist

And mire your face in an expression most serious

Look on at the lone digit, The meditation begins:

In ancient Greece they called it the katapygon

In Rome, by the digitus impudicus it was known

Through it disrespect was, and still is, shown

“Do you know what a dactyl,” Socrates asked

“Yes,” said Strepsiades, his finger lifting up for the task.

Diogenes of Sinope did in the dactyl glory cheekily bask

When he showed it to Demosthenes, like a broken death mask.

Even Saint Isidore of Seville made reference to it,

In his Etymologiae, the renowned middle digit.

So the next time you’re stuck in crazy traffic

Flipping the bird
Too angry for words

Remember you’re reenacting something historic

Leonidas and Xerxes, perhaps once did the same

Caesar and Pompey, those two certainly weren’t tame.
Raise the digit

It’s legit!

[Poem] Inanna

Fair Inanna, driven quite mad

From the death of the Eternal Spring.

Poor Inanna, she is so sad,

That Life has stopped procreating.

What to do?

Rend her in two:

The Whore of Babylon

and

The Wisdom of Greece

The prostitute and the eternal virgin

Ishtar and Athena

Unfettered

I have written the love story of Inanna and Dimuzi here:

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 1:The Story of Tammuz and Ishtar

[Poem] Angel of the Battlefield, Antietam (Bloodiest day of the American Civil War)

Antietam/ Sharpsburg, where hallowed ground plaques abound

Sleepy old towns, living atop cemeteries

Let September Seventeenth, Eighteen Sixty Two resound!

Come Ferry down one of History’s estuaries

Union Johnny Raw waits near Dunker’s Church in fear

He knows old Stonewall and Robert E Lee are near

McClellan be a blind fool but he’s got ‘Lost Order’

And the boys at Harpers are buying them some lost time.

“Maryland, my Maryland,” he thinks he can hear (Confederates draw nearer).

In beat, the Potomac gently humming in rhyme

Over twenty thousand men dead, wounded or missing

After only a few hours of the clock ticking

Aftermath is devastation, yes… but also proclamation of emancipation

Non-intervention of other ‘great’ nations. A medical barrage:

The birth of the Angel of the Battlefield, the Red Cross and critical triage.

“I was lying on my back, supported on my elbows, watching the shells explode overhead and speculating as to how long I could hold up my finger before it would be shot off, for the very air seemed full of bullets, when the order to get up was given, I turned over quickly to look at Col. Kimball, who had given the order, thinking he had become suddenly insane.”

Lt. Matthew J. Graham, Company H, 9th New York Volunteers

“Comrades with wounds of all conceivable shapes were brought in and placed side by side as thick as they could lay, and the bloody work of amputation commenced.”

Union soldier George Allen