The Poem
Ensconced in the here and now,
when the world is advancing
by leaps and bounds,
and when I saw me as riding on the crest
in league with the power of womankind,
some strange gust of wind
blew over with an image from the past
which shattered me to the ground.
Not so remote in the stride of time,
in the history of my ancestral memory,
the memory of our colonial past,
A picture of an aging woman
bearing on her back
a powerful,sturdy sack,
which probably she was given to use
for the tea leaves culled from the hillsides,
working in the plantation of some colonial sahib.
With her back bent but not broken yet,
she carried in that sack the noble savage,
flashing the lights of his civilization
in the sunhat he wore like a crown
and his pointed shoes polished by some native hands,
the shoes with which he kicked perhaps
on a daily basis
the souls who worked on subsistence wages;
and Malthus and Ricardo trumpeted their theories in cold blood
of how the world is ruled and run on well oiled cogs
of a giant wheel of colonial power.
 

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• 
  Latif Z

  Thanks so much my dear friend !
  Great respect for you and for your culture
  You are great poet and wonderful Lady
  My english is so bad
  I can good speak only arabic and french language !!!
  JUST one word my dear : you must that you are near to me and you have great place in my heart !!!
  Best regards ✌

  REPLY

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  Mar 9, 2016

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• 
  Sushama Karnik

  Glad to be your friend Latif. Don't worry about the English language. It is the universal link among people all over the world.The British rule in India was a mixed legacy and one good thing they left behind for us was this language and with the language we have an access to the world. I can see that you are fluent in French and Arabic but I have no knowledge of these two languages. However, we can communicate well in spite of the  language barrier. Indeed , it is a small world now.
  +Latif Z 

  REPLY

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  Mar 9, 2016

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  Latif Z+1

  +Sushama Karnik Happy and smiling day 😊 my dear

  REPLY

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  Mar 10, 2016

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 Persistent rains sing in my ears.

An invocation, an invitation,

to break the bounds and swing.'

The morning when the walls of home are dark. 

The window snaps open and lets the breeze in.

Solitary bird shrieks , an unusual note cuts through .

My heart strains to hear its aching song. My day begins.

It's searching for you ravenously hungry., steadfast

in its belief that you're somewhere near,

else the bird wouldn't sing

so forlorn in the middle of a summer for  for a rain. The humming of a distant waterfall

so near, so far away; it's holding the harp still in its hands,

The night ends; the day breaks. Far beyond the hills someone dwells ; calls my name   ,

the name given to me alone before the beginning of time.

From the immersive oceans of forgetfulness

with a stunning clarity a tiding comes

 running on the crest of a wave.

 O drifting cloud, break your rigid rules. Dissolve, melt your wings  

and like a warm steam arising out of the kettle; .stream in into my home.

.Immerse and stay for all the times of the year..

And sometimes as you watched the sea
the waves hurtled and crashed.
A thrill pulsated in the air around
and a cool shower of a salty jet,
a watery sky fell on the rock
Life has brought you back to the sea.
Like a lover who understands
the meaning of desire
you look at the sea
with a new adoration,
a magnanimity of forgiveness
and the generosity of forgetting,
you find again all that you need--
in the sea who never forgets

Sushama Karnik.

 We walk in three worlds at a time

and our paths are destined not to meet. One thing is certain though.

We are from the same seed of a thought

that was given 

to the third one who is walking by us

in tempests and nights,

in days when dark and white,

a paradox that walks with us to shield and guide. 

The third one knows where we are going

carrying a lamp but not seeing a shadow.

When we stop

the third one stops,

not in wonder

but to keep in step

lest we get lost 

all over again.

 On a bright summer day

when the afternoon time hits you hard in the face

an arboreal dream swallows the day.

Amazing this earth and

amazing its multiple hands .

This ancient tree has thousands of aeons marked on its bark

and like pages of a carbon print

I wanted to feel it,

flick through its pages,

write my name with a knife

on one of the random finds.

But the greatest wonder came

when one day someone had overtaken me and already taken possession of the tree.

It seemed the tree and the man knew what it was to survive centuries

aeons after aeons with a single thread of love

running between them and calling,

to keep their tryst with time.

The man had lain his head

trustfully in the lap of the tree.

He was dreaming the life of tree.

Sushama Karnik.

Elon Musk on Mars

 

Elon Musk’s ambitious words: “It can be done”

Musk expressed optimism that humanity can set up a permanent presence on Mars by 2055. He explained that success depends on ramping up the tonnage of cargo delivered during each launch window, which occurs every 26 months when Earth and Mars align. To build a truly self-sufficient colony, Musk stressed that settlers will need everything from advanced robotics and food production systems to the ability to manufacture fuel and high-tech components directly on the Martian surface.

The centerpiece of Musk’s vision is Starship, SpaceX’s fully reusable launch system. The vehicle comprises two stages—Super Heavy, the booster, and Starship, the spacecraft—both powered by methane-fueled Raptor engines. This design allows Mars settlers to produce fuel from the Martian atmosphere, enabling return trips. Starship has already completed ten test flights, with its most recent success in August 2025 marking its first payload deployment. Musk revealed that the upcoming Version 3 of Starship will carry over 100 tons to orbit, making it capable of transporting the vast supplies required for colonization.

Apr 15, 2017

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Then one night she dreamed of a harp,
It spread its wings, grew into its original shape of a tree,
a tree that grew
from a cosmic seed.

And it sang as only the wind
 coming from the ocean can sing
blue and deep.
The circles of gulls
came back to the rock.

She lay on the beach
spreadeagled,
ready to dive and ready to fly.
At that moment if she could die,
the death would be the hand of God,
not the end of life, but the beginning of a flight to an alien land.