SPM English Literature - A POISON TREE- just a review from my point of understanding

The Charge of the Light Brigade, The Living Photograph, What has Happened to Lulu?, A Poison Tree
Tanjong Rhu, Leaving, The Right Thing To Do, Dear Mr. Kilmer

For a fixed 15 marks, students need to read all the texts.  How much time allocated for all these, between files, courses, meetings and other aspects like directed, continuous writing, grammar and summary practice is a big question by itself. Any one excerpt can be questioned so this batch is going to be facing another high jump soon. 

To help my students understand and tackle the various needs of the literature paper, i have read the needed books and am trying to dissect and understand the literal and figurative meanings of the said  literary products.

William Blake was an English poet, painter and print maker who lived from 28 November, 1757 to 12 August, 1827. One of his well known poem is ' A Poison Tree'.

This poem is about anger. The anger is directed at someone and keeping it until it becomes an obsession. The poem is written from the first person point of view. The persona talks about anger issues within him. When he is angry with a friend, he settles the misunderstanding by talking to him but when he is angry with an enemy he does not attempt to settle the issue. He allows the feeling of anger to fester within himself. He doesn't do anything to solve the problem and pretends that everything is fine. He feeds his anger intensely, daily till it literally grows into a 'poison tree' or an apple tree which bears a poisonous apple. The poisoned apple is the consumed hatred of the persona. It is a fruit of evil digestion. The fruit appear to become a bait to the foe. Death in the poem indicate that the enemy suffers severe consequences when he attempts to retaliate to the persona's bait.  

We can say that William Blake choice of the apple compared to other fruits is brilliant and full of significance because it is easily identified especially in the terms of the Bible. The apple here is considered poisonous just as how it was forbidden to Adam and Eve. This is easily digestible as William Blake is religious and the apple could be referenced on how Adam was tempted to eat it. This seems suitable as it is tempting to dwell and think of revenge although many things can be dealt with in other ways. This poem deals with anger. It is indirectly advising that anger is unhealthy to a person.

When one is angry it is alright to face it and be angry for a while. To deny this emotion is just as bad as hiding it. However after an appropriate length of time, common sense should be applied and anger should be resolved. One should consider whether it is making you a better person. if the answer is no, then clear steps need to be taken to address it such as talking to someone about it. Coming to terms that even though there can be nothing done by the other party to make you feel better or to simply learn to let go and move on with life are other ways of coming to terms with anger.

Of course we can visit counselors and psychologists to sort anger professionally. When keeping negative emotions bottled up, hormones become imbalanced. This can cause ill effects to health. Humans are creatures of huge emotions and these feelings need an outlet. Negative emotions such as anger can be like a boiling kettle where the steam has to be released or the kettle will explode, damaging the kettle and at the same time hurting others.It is proven medically that people who get angry often fall sick often. One should have recreational pastimes to balance stress from work and home.

The setting is the persona's workplace and house, time is from a few days to weeks
 themes are holding back feelings of anger, releasing one's anger, lies, deceits and evil ways
language and style simple language yet difficult to understand at one read,
tone and mood is sad, angry and serious
poetic devices such as sound devices; alliteration, assonance,
literary devices; symbol, imagery, repetition, irony, personification, contrast,simile, metaphor and diction aspects need not be deeply scrutinized as this might not be an essay question but no harm in reading and understanding all the elements.

This is a review from my point of view. It might be added or edited later if I find other views at other frequent reading.

If one should need help with this poem, feel free to contact me. You can email me at eaglez121@yahoo.com

Fairy stepfather

Out of the blue, we decided that we should visit the fairy stepfather. It has been quite a while since we set foot there.

I stepped into the house with heart pounding, feeling restless and a little disturbed, sensing past happenings.

This had been an unhappy house. I can still remember the many times we were traumatized with the many verbal and physical abuse.

The screaming, crying and the many escapes we made. Hiding in basements and running out in the middle of the night, hoping to hail a cab and just go somewhere where there would be peace.

At that juncture, I could understand how Jack would have felt when the giant was after him.

Today, this house reminded me of the story, 'A rose for Emily' by William Faulkner.

 That tangy unlooked after smell of poor ventilation drifted into the nostrils the minute i snapped out of my past reveries.

After inspecting the area, we decided to make some changes.

A short drive to the nearby AEON outlet helped us to get some stuffs.

After an hour of quick work we managed to create a better scenario from before.

Tomorrow a plumber and serviceman have been appointed to do more work. We'd supervise of course.

One would wonder why our character is termed as the fairy stepfather and not the evil stepfather.

Simply because he has stopped being evil. It could be a temporary breakthrough. He might reappear but i doubt we're going to give him the opportunity.

I often wonder how lucky we have been to stand where we are now. The changes just happened with the help of some good Samaritans, lawmakers and a bit of luck.

 While dusting, cleaning and dumping dust filled blankets and towels into the unused washing machine we listened to the radio.

There was this Happy Father's Day advertisements being repeated on and off.

It was a lovely coincidence.

We threw away old pillows. Replaced them with new ones. We also got a new blanket and comforter.

Once the room got completed fairy stepfather walked in and commented, "Hey, I'm no longer that angry man!"

Then the other coincidence sank in. I must say all of us had a good laugh!! ;)

உன்னை துறந்த எனக்கு எதையும் துறக்க முடியும்.

திடீரென ஒரு ஞாபகம். அந்த பெட்டி. அதில் இருந்த அந்த உடல். மெய் சிலிர்த்து நின்றேன். கண்கள் கலங்கின.

இந்த வலி ஒரு நாள் முற்றும் தொலைந்து போகும் என்று  நம்பினேன். அப்படி நடந்ததாக தெரியல.

இறப்பு மட்டும் துன்பத்தை கொடுப்பது இல்லை. பொறுப்புக்கள், உறவுகள் எதிர்ப்பார்ப்புக்கள், ஏமாற்றங்கள் இவைகள் எல்லாம் துன்பத்தைத் தரும்.

துன்பத்தில் இருந்து தப்பிக்க துறவறம் நல்ல வழினு நிறைய யோசித்து இருக்கிறேன். அதுவும் உண்மை இல்லை.

பொறுப்புக்களை துறக்க முடியாது.
உறவுகளையும் துறக்க முடியாது.
எதிர்ப்பார்ப்புக்களைத் துறக்கலாம் அதனால் ஏமாற்றங்கள் துறந்து போகும்.

இதில் நான் கண்டு பிடித்தது என்னவென்றால்;
உன்னை துறந்த எனக்கு எதையும் துறக்க முடியும், உயிர் உட்பட பெரிதாக தெரியல.

உபபிரதி 1 - translation BOX :- SHOBASAKTHI

Naachiyaar, the Liberation Tigers' female warrior had been arrested alive by the military force during battle. Those days, the military force  purposefully targetted the Tigers' female fighters during attacks. At the point of arrest, prisoner Naachiyaar was barely 15. During custody, she was carried from one barrack to another by the soldiers. She was abused for two whole days. There were two big sores at the place of her nipples. She was lying in a semi conscious state within the sandy confinement of the military guardhouse, attempting to cover her pubic area, groaning in pain, in vain.

On the dawn of the third day, a young officer splashed sea water on her face. The pain which sprouted from the salt water hitting the bruised spots of her face made her writhe and wriggle. At that moment the officer shed his clothes, knelt beside her and sat down. He lifted her and laid her on his lap. He stared into her eyes. Her eyes drooped. He forced open her lids. He wanted her to observe his nudity. Her lips twitched at the sight. She opened her mouth and twirled her tongue slowly. "Amma" she moaned. Her tears wet the soldier's nudity.

On the third evening, the soldiers made her naked state stand upright on a dune. The fact that she could stand was astounding. The army force lined behind her while Naachiyaar stood facing the narrowed edge of Nanthikkadal. On the other side stood her people. She probably hoped that she would be able to make an escape to the other side. She gave a sharp look towards the opposite end. There, Naatchiyaar saw her people hovering restlessly. She stood immobile. At that moment, a torrent of Sinhalese speech burst through a hailer towards the Tigers.

                     "We have just skinned a Tiger. If you want to know about our manliness, you can ask her."

Upon hearing these words, the little girl spread her fingers to cover her pubic area and bosom. A moment of happiness sparkled from within. She felt peace realising that her folks now knew she was standing there. She did not doubt for a moment that the hailer's sound might have not reached across. She could see the tormented people attempting means to save her. She could also hear Tigers making announcements to those desperate people. The Tigers could see this little girl clearly, through a set of binoculars. They were consumed by indescribable rage and anger. Anguished tears filled their eyes.

The soldiers' obscenities and teasing slapped her ears. Across, the Tigers' vehicles were appearing and disappearing at an amazing rate. The water area was only a few hundred metres' distance. She decided to get into the water and try to walk across. It did not matter to her that the army might shoot her from the back. She did not mind, as she believed  her body would drift towards her land. With death she thought that her naked body will finally be engulfed and wrapped with the magnificent red, yellow flag of the Tigers. Dusk was slowly approaching. The moon was climbing upwards, out of the sea.

She waited for more darkness to fall. She did not want her nudity to be fully exposed to her people. She was waiting to wade across the lake water in darkness. If she made it alive to her land, Naachiyaar vowed to visit her mother immediately.

Darkness descended to a certain level yet she could still decipher the outlines of people from across. At that moment, she heard the Tiger's General's shout of order to attack. Two Tamil Tiger fighters got into the lake waters.The soldiers from this side took their charge in between shouting and screaming. The soldiers' attention was fully focused on the approaching Tiger soldiers. No one seemed to notice Naachiyaar.

The two tigers who walked into the waters got into a motored small canoe. As the lake was shallow, the canoe moved in a slow, transcendental movement. When the canoe reached midway of the lake, the general shouted his orders. The soldiers ran and slouched flat on the grounds copying the flight of a sea crow. Naachiyaar could understand all the movements of the soldiers. She also knew that when the Tigers' canoe closed in, the soldiers had strong arrangements to crush them.She raised her voice to alert a warning to the forward moving Tigers. She believed her hoarse voice would be carried by the wind . "Go back", she shouted. The wind carried her voice along its way.

The Tigers' canoe slowed down as it reached the centre point of the lake and came to a complete standstill. With half closed eyes, Naachiyaar heaved a sigh of relief . Her bruised naked body felt consoled with the tender blowing of the evening sea breeze. The canoe which stood still, made a semicircle turn with a roaring tone. The Tiger fighter climbed up and stood with legs planted firmly on the front of the canoe. The other fighter carried an RPG rocket launcher and gave it to him. The Tiger fighter fixed the launcher carefully on his shoulders.

The soldiers dived and slumped into the man made holes. Those standing guard high up on security towers leaped down to the ground and slouched inside the holes. The Tiger fighter aimed and fired the rocket. His aim did not miss. Naachiyaar who stood on the dune blew up into particles. Her nudity was now consumed by the enraged flames.

The Tigers canoe fled with unbelievable speed towards the other side. The soldiers ploughed the lake with numerous bombs. However, both the Tiger fighters reached the banks without a scratch. The fighter who launched the rocket collapsed tiredly on the bank while the other sat motionless beside him with an empty, expressionless stare. With chest heaving up and down, the one lying on the sand patted his friend's hand, while looking at the sky and said:

"We must inform Naachiyaar's mother that her daughter had just died a heroic death" Hot tears were streaming down his cheeks.

The one seated beside him whispered softly, "I'm not coming!"

இரண்டாம் கதை- translation - my own attempt- BOX :- SHOBASAKTHI

Our eyes have dimmed simply hoping and waiting  wastefully for remuneration to come. We were waiting hopelessly for a heartless race to the rescue.

Our freedom to move along our own corridors had been jeopardized when our trails were abolished and destroyed. Our end fast materialising. Our days concluded. Our end has come.
     
                                                                                                             Jeremiah's Fourth Lamentations

Though these words doesn't directly quote the words of Jeremiah, it still reflects futile, dire predicaments of people involved in war.

I did not expect to find Jeremiah's Lamentations to be in BOX. 

I get more and more amazed with this mode of writing.

he cheated me, he cheated me not!

The below conversation is from a psychological counseling session.

Hi, how are you today?

I'm not good. he cheated me you know? And she started crying.

Who cheated you? How?

Between sobs,

He was my friend, mentor and the love of my life!

And?

In the beginning, he promised me the whole universe. He was loving and kind. Then suddenly he started ignoring me. When I tried calling him he was reluctant to talk. He was distant. I kept calling and he did not answer! Where did all the sweet words go?

Then?

I saw him with someone else. Then later with someone else. He has many 'friends'.

So, what is your status now?

I am depressed.

Hmmm.. What do you want to do now? Do you want to confront him? Confront his other friends?

No! I don't wish to do that! I just wished for things to be as before. I think the world of him. Why didn't he think the same?

Well, human beings are the most complex creatures in this world. They are unpredictable. Everyone's life is ruled by their inner needs. People do things in selfishness. They forget their attitude hurt others. It's unfortunate that many don't even care about the others' hurt.

Yes, he has hurt me too much. I have no energy to get up in the morning. No interest to do work. I cannot sleep. What should I do now? How can I change his feelings?

Can I tell you something? Nobody can change anyone. The only person whom we can change is we ourselves. I cannot change you. I can help you find yourself. Look for ways to feel better. Anti-depressants and sleeping pills are not the permanent solution for all these. You need to build your defense system.

Isn't multiple relationships wrong? Why is he doing it? Didn't I make him happy?

Do you know that it is not possible to know what is going on inside someone else? Most of what we see is not real. People portray what they want others to see. Don't you and I do that too? Multiple relationships are people's choice. It is up to them to indulge in them. It depends on how much they can afford it, in terms of time, energy and money. The moral point of view might differ. It is about being honest and dishonest. You can never expect someone to come and tell you, "Hey, you know, you are not the only person I'm seeing. I'm seeing you today and I'd continue seeing you if I like you enough.If I meet someone else who attracts me more, I'd see them too!' And if at all someone was that honest with you, what would your reaction be? Won't you freak out?

Yes, I guess. But I would prefer if he had been honest with me. I might have accepted this better if he didn't move away silently. I feel betrayed! What am I to do now? I feel that I'm rotting, decomposing!

That's a great question. The best thing you can do is stop being idle. List out things you must do everyday. Sort out your free time. Plan what you would like to do when you're not busy. Meet more new people. When I say meet people, I don't mean jumping into another relationship. Noncommittal relationships are much more fun. Help children from your society. Give a helping hand to women who are suffering around you. If you need those kind of contacts, I can give them to you. Follow me around. I have a big group of needy people who would love and appreciate your help.

You make it sound so simple Miss. I wish it was as easy as that.

Nothing is easy and nothing is difficult. All you have to do is try. Do you know that I was one of the patients here not too long ago?I tried and I have overcome my problems. Now i help others.

Can I come with you tomorrow?

9 a.m. See you at the lobby.

Shaking hands, both of them walked out of the counselor's room. Life continues!

the little pleasures and the bigger pain

About 30 years ago my sister and I performed for a show in my college. I was almost 20 and she 15. I have never trained professionally. During my teenage days, it was a choice of either playing hockey or attending dance classes.

I chose the former as it was more fun to run free and wild in the field. Dribbling the hard, dangerous ball towards the goal post and the thud that followed every time i scored gave a fabulous feeling not worth exchanged with anything else in the world.

Yet, when in college someone requested that I perform a dance for a change. I was the college singer and perhaps people wanted to see me doing something else as it was my final year.

My sister had professional training. With her help and guidance we practiced the 'Shiva Thaandavam'.

I remember doing the same dance for about eight to ten times. There were temple shows. Deepavali shows and even in someone's birthday party.

Our costume was self modified. I tied an above ankle length saree. I remember borrowing my mother's saree. It was red. The blouse had to be adjusted as my mom was two size smaller than me.
My sister wore a yellow punjabi suit with tiger skin printed scarf wrapped around her. Our attire was quite amateurish. Yet, our performance was quite catchy. It was really lots of fun.

In years to come, dancing has always been a part of my life. As a teacher, dances were often practiced and performed. Choreography was done with self imagination and at times some copying was done from movies and other videos. We danced for fun in weddings and other office functions.

As time passed, after some heart wrenching experiences and bumpy life rides, dancing had almost disappeared from my life. Living meant work, managing children, paying bills and solving various daily life problems.

Perhaps if I said life turned into a disastrous nightmare, I could not be far wrong.My torture was self inflicted. I faced depressive disorders by indulging in prescribed drugs. It seemed to be the best superb answer.

I can easily blame circumstances, incidents and people around me for all my pain. At those moments, I was busy blaming everything that I could point my finger at. Change came suddenly but it did come.

Something out there had always looked out for me. I believe in God. As a Canossian Convent student for 13 years i know ' The Holy Mary and Hail Mary' by heart. During sick days, my Sister at the church always reassured me that St. Gabriel was just there watching out for me. I sang in the church choir.

As a singer in temple functions, I was well versed with my religion's puranas and vedhas.

My Malaysian heritage had also blended me with my Moslem friends to carry the 'Bunga Manggar' and walk along with them in the procession for Prophet Muhammad's birthday.

I had no battles whatsoever with any belief. I loved nature. The sun, the moon, the wind, the sea, the sky and the greenery around me always emitted wonderful energy to me.

Maybe those wonderful energies helped save me.

Soon i learned to evaluate the difference between pleasure and pain.

I listed all my pleasures. I started attending dance classes. Initially, it was only the Latin Beginner's class. I attained lessons in Rumba, Cha-cha, Jive and Samba.

I sang with the Indian Traditional drummers, 'The Urumi'. I remember raising that many eyebrows with my antiques. A lady in her late forties singing with Urumi boys? I did it anyway because it was a pleasure for me.

While singing, somehow there rose a yearning for the chimes of the anklet bells. The joy of jumping up, down, left and right with dance movements, was missed by something from within.

I signed up for the 'Bharatha Nattiyam' classes. I chose a centre very near my house. For convenience sake. When I approached my master, a man, he was a little perturbed with my age and my interest in this art. He was hesitant to start and told me to come back the following month as it was already mid January.

Later, when I called him, he did not answer my calls nor did he respond to my several messages. Little did he know, he had lost a good, passionate performer.

I googled for other dance schools. After a few failed attempts I found my master. A lady. I can genuinely say she had transformed my life.

Before every class, she taught me Yoga. With her insistence, I enrolled and completed  a 'Kallaari Payattu' course. She taught me dance steps patiently.

While I picked up the basics, I pestered my sister to train the 'Shiva Thandavam' with me. After 30 years, it was not a piece of cake. Though, I still remember the moves, the hip screw inserted in my left femur was a constant challenge.

After arduous hours of training, the steps are finally taking shape. The dance is turning out well. Of course the costume is not going to be amateurish. With years of choreography experience we are in the midst of creating a dream, which will soon come true.

Life has taught me discipline and perseverance. With this I intend to dance for at least five years. People often question me on why I do what I do. Often I smile.

Deep down, I tell myself. These little pleasures that I indulge in are simply pacifiers to that big pain which lies within me.

I don't seriously believe that life should be lived with specific rules. But what I cannot oblige is to live life in a reckless way. Happy go lucky, come what may! Is definitely not my policy. I cannot step on other people's head just to fulfill my happiness. Worst of all, I am finding it very difficult to accept and digest selfish betrayal.

Although I am not the target of the insult I simply decided I cannot be an accomplice to any such conduct.

In deciding this, I sacrificed something very important. My strength is minimal, my courage is low but i am holding the fort. The gush in my heart is deep. Perhaps it will never heal. But I intend to dance away the pain slowly. Maybe time will cure me from this pain. Amen!