Showing posts with label 201808E. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 201808E. Show all posts

Setu, August 2018 - Contents

Setu

Volume 3 Issue 3

August 2018


Editorial

Poetry

Exclusive

Book Review

Spotlight

Special: Photo feature

Short Fiction

Author of the Month

Conversations: social, literary and environmental

Contemporary Concerns

Classics Revisited (External Link)

Exclusive: Poetry from Europe and other Western locations: Curated by Agron Shele

Poetry: Nuri Kan (Turkey- Holland)

Exclusive: Poetry from Europe and other Western locations: Curated by Agron Shele
Poet was born in a small mountain village of Erzincan in Turkey. He came and settled down to Holland at a young age and acquired citizenship. Poet has occupied with music,theatre, tale, painting and poem more since his childhood. He won international awards with study on tale, poem and painting. Poet held on exhibition in many countries and many of his books were published.

Poet presided international artist Union in three years. Besides,he had active and passive duties in organizations like UNICEF and Amnesty International. He worked as an art consultant teacher in private and government schools in Holland and Turkey.


Almira

Have you ever cried in the language of the rivers?
Almira
The girl with violet eyes.
Have you ever drowned the love of the wind on the clouds?
Has your heart ever trembled with the touch of life's riot?

Poppies

Are poppies always destitute in this city?
Do the curtains always smell sooty?
Do the drooping willows cry with coy?
Are springs always resentful?

Are the words sufficient
To tell and understand the love
─░f one’s language is not love
How to tell
How to be understood the love with frozen emotion?

‘tell’ you say
How can I tell Almira?
Are the words enough
To tell,to understand
Is the language enough?

Have you ever
Fallen in love to a bird at the sky,
Fallen in love to water in the earth?
Have you ever cried
looking at pain in an orphan child’s eyes
looking at the father’s face lost his son?
Do you donate your vision of a sightless person?

Have you ever
talked to the birds in the forests
talked to the fishes in the seas
talked to the clouds in the sky?
Do you give your hope to the hopeless people
filled with compassion way?

Do you know
the frustration of a jobless father not bringing home the bread
sadness of a prisoner without tobacco?
Have you ever felt desperation of a woman being raped in your heart?

Have you ever spoken
at the languages of butterflies
at the language of flowers
at the language of freedom?

Do you speak
far from grudge,
far from hatred,
far from hostility,
─░n a friendship and brotherhood ,Almira?
Have you ever cried in the language of rivers?

Life
─░s a drama,Almira
A role in a film
Pre-prepared text of a masquerade ball in our hand we read.
Foolishly,shammerly,shallowly.

Love
─░s not communed with brotherhood,
─░s not fed with friendship
─░f it isn’t set up far from worry
far from war and hostility,
on freedom and friendship.
Love is not love,Almira.

─░f love is love and
─░f your love is my love
Then only then
Then only then
Then only then
Your love is my love Almira

Carefree, properly, sincerely.
***

PASSION FOR FREEDOM

I loved the sky,interminably
I couldn't like captivity at all
I loved the pigeons in white and White
at the sky.

I picked flowers in green branches blooming
with my feeling by feeling.
As far as I've known myself
I want neither a flower pot nor a cage
Even if birds in golden cage,
I want birds to be free
flowers free
children free
─▒ don’t like narrow places.
I wish earth belonged to flowers

Sky belonged to pigeons
Everywhere fondled by sun
smell love like spring.
Oh! I wish it were possible


Oh! I wish it were possible

Oh! ─░t had been possible
I would have made happiness from sorrow
I would have made hope from happiness
I would have split my heart into sorrows
I would have sold love to all children of the World.

I wish it were possible
when a child got shot
─▒ would be a mother go into mourning
─▒ would bound up wounds affectionately
─▒ would be a father, I would cry instead of them.

Oh! ─░t were possible
I would make peace from war
I would make man from peace
I would make happiness from sorrow
I would make friendship from hope
I would throw poem to children every morning instead of bullet.
***

I AM OUT

I am out
─░f living is so ugly
─░f labor is ingrate
─░f profit is every door’s key

I am out
if love is as worthless as one night stands
if friendship is measured by Money
if betrayals, fights, darkness isn’t sadden
if poverty isn’t embarrassed

if virtue is so little
and if lies is so grand
if dreams not exist
if hopes nonexist
if love gardens isn’t blooming
if glove doesn't tell the yearning

what we call life,
if killing the time
dirtying the blue,eating,sitting back and burping.
─░f swearing one who doesn’t support you
True, my friend,I’m contrarian

Let them be yours
Duplicities, shammerly,
Let them be yours
Comfort,luxury, fame, reputation, status
A slice of poem
A bit of love is enough for me.

Enough
A warm smile
A bunch of dream
And seven colours of the rainbow

Poetry: Gopal Lahiri

Gopal Lahiri

By Gopal Lahiri


Homecoming

Not so sure about the greenery that flick past,
The shops of all colours, the mud pots, the combed road,
Still remembers the wide courtyard
Strewn with leaves and flowers,
The steep stairs without the railings and the
Curved lamp near the wooden door.
The windows shut,
The heaps of snail shells filling up,
Everything around is so hollow, so tranquil,
Somewhere a voice drifts in,
And the silence slips away like a silk cloak.
Standstill on the garden and the wetness creeps up,
The outhouse draped in dense foliage,
Flowers in rainbow colours rest on the tiles,
The shadows lurk under the mango tree and freeze,
In a world full of hope and despair,
The pace of time has swept all that into the past,
The marble floor is bathing in sun light,
The aroma of flowers wafts in,
A time to bury the past, a time to get on with life.
***

Canvas

Standing upright on their hind legs
The rabbits turn boldly to joy,
Filling the green cup with fire,
Spring isn’t far here.
Critics’ mind falls apart,
Skinny teenagers now see the swaths of blue flowers,
Where they stay unfiltered,
And be deafened by loud music,
Flapping of moths
against the cottage window,

Where the light needs it shadow
and darkness a hiding,
Where all begin and
Falling down again and again,
Billowing clouds of smoke on the up above.
Boats ready to sail, evening flushes from the horizon
Like sparrows from a hedge.
Sitting on a lamp post, a lonely crow
Picks up a pitcher from the canvas and shouts,
***

Trinity

1.
Back from the walk, we talk about
The fickle weather,
The palm leaves,
Coins spinning the air,
In the shame-less world,
The real reason now opens all its petals.

2.
No one trust you,
not even a leaf in the tree of hope,
If only they know
The unexplained smile,
The air feels distant,
The words are muted,
The night is in search
Of commas and semicolons,
Do they say anything at all?

3.
Between my fingers and palm
Time crumbles along,
Just want your eyes and warmth.
***


Bio:
Gopal Lahiri was born and grew up in Kolkata, India. He is a bilingual poet, writer, editor, critic and translator and published in Bengali and English language. He has had seven collections of poems in Bengali and eight collections in English and edited one anthology of poems. He is the recipient of the Poet of the year award in Destiny Poets, UK, 2016. He can be reached at glahiri@gmail.com
https://www.facebook.com/glahiri

Poetry: Tarana Turan Rahimli (Azerbaijan)

Exclusive: Poetry from Europe and other Western locations: Curated by Agron Shele
Tarana Turan Rahimli
THEY WILL RECOGNIZE ME FROM MY LOVE

Some will leave their traces, in this world
Some won’t be satisfied with anything.
A grave of somebody
Will mention about its owner,
A word of somebody
Will be left after somebody.
All will desire
To leave any word in this world.
The centuries will cause to forget them.
The false castles made of lies
Will be destroyed.
The people will know everything
They will reprobate after knowing.
The fires will be made
For the guilty past.
They will choose only the words
And will keep only them..
And ...and they will recognize me
From my love!
***


I grew up
I was left on the crossroads, I grow up choosing my own way. I passed through the aches That filled into my inside. I was interested with a strange wish, I directed towards light and sound. I drunk off the love I grew up drinking such loves. I took hands of the expectation, I was lost in the corners of life. I cut the grief to my height I grew up in this way. My spirit was invaded thousand times, I took shelter only in the hemistichs. A fire was made inside of my heart But I didn’t burn, I grew up being experienced.
***
You can’t draw my picture
You can draw a picture of a tree or a stone You can draw picture of fading winter in spring You can take all what you see in this world, You can’t draw my picture… You can resemble my eyes and eyelashes, Even you can find the color of my word. You can draw the blind patience inside of me, You can’t draw my picture. Maybe you can draw the heart of a stranger, Maybe you may knock down the expectation in my inside. Maybe you may pour my spirit into the paints, You can’t draw my picture. My image will always be in front of your eyes, But you can’t be able to see my own being. Your lifetime may be over, but that picture won’t be over, You can’t draw my picture.

Interview: Prof. Jared Akama Onyari

* Roula Pollard talks to Prof Jared Akama Onyari, Chaplain and Peace Ambassador *

Prof. Onyari
Roula Pollard: Prof Onyari, I chose to interview you because although you do not write conventional books, you deal daily with the Spiritual Poetry of one of the best books of life, the Bible, and you act in God’s Poetry. Tell me about your childhood experiences in Kenya.
Prof Onyari: I was born on the 2nd day of October 1968 and raised in Nyasore a little village at Nyamira county, Kisii region in Kenya . I was one of twelve children born to Harrison Onyari Minyega and Eunice Mocheche Onguso. Like any other ordinary child at my time I grew with a lot of difficulties because I was orphaned at an early age but I am thankful to my late Mum the role she played in instilling Christian principles to me. She encouraged me to work hard in my education as this was the only sure way to make a difference to humanity and succeed in life. She always advised me to care for the environment , be a friend to nature and at all time support the disadvantaged and less fortunate people in our society. This has contributed and shaped me to what I am today.

Roula Pollard
Roula Pollard: You belong in a large extended Kenyan family with approximately 100 members, and have 22 siblings (brothers and sisters) in total; been among others, a chaplain, community leader, strong women's rights promoter and supporter, Environmental Impact Assessment Lead expert and a Ambassador of Peace; you remind me of the Biblical Patriarchs. Can I call you a “21st Century post-Modern Patriarch” and how do you react to this title?
Prof Onyari: Thank you for seeing me as a “21st Century post- Modern Patriarch but I see myself as a humble servant of God who lives for the sake of others.

Roula Pollard: You are also a Professor of Development Studies in Nairobi, and Counselor, top Environmental Impact Assessment Lead expert with accreditation with the United Nations Environment Program ( UNEP). What is your connection with UNEP?
Prof Onyari: As the President of Kenya Environment and Waste Management which is accredited to UNEP, this means that the accreditation grants my organization consultative status at UN Environment within the rules of procedure of the UN Environment Assembly. In practical terms, this means that in the run-up to the sessions of the UN Environment Assembly and the Assembly itself, as an accredited organization of Major Groups, I have the opportunity to receive unedited working documents of the UN Environment Assembly first-hand and at the same time as the Committee of the Permanent Representatives, and to make oral and written contributions to these meetings as well as circulate written statements to Governments through the UN Environment Secretariat and make ake oral statements during the discussions of the UN Environment Assembly..

Roula Pollard: What is your role as an Environmental Impact Assessment Lead expert?
Prof Onyari: As an Environmental Impact Assessment Lead expert, I do interpret legal frameworks for the proposed project, screen and scope to identify the likely impacts of the project to the environment. I also ensure project comply with environmental legislations and regulations and Contribute to the project appraisal processes by reviewing, analyzing, and advising on social and environmental impact risk. My other role is advice on best practices and contributing to the supervision of the projects by providing oversight on the implementation of the environmental and social mitigation and monitoring arrangements.

Roula Pollard: What is your role as a Peace Ambassador at Universal Peace Federation and as a President of Peace Society in Kenya and president for Africa Peace Foundation?
Prof Onyari: As Peace Ambassador in Universal Peace Federation, a President of Peace Society in Kenya and president for Africa Peace Foundation I stand on the common ground of universal moral principles, promoting reconciliation, overcoming barriers, and building peace. I am part of a global network representing the diversity of the human family and all disciplines of endeavor. Also promoting the cooperation beyond boundaries of religion, race, ethnicity, and nationality. And pure practice the motto of “living for the sake of others” as the guiding principle for building a global community

Roula Pollard: What is your role as promoter and supporter of Women’s rights? What have you achieved?
Prof Onyari: For instance during the “African Liberation Day” on 25th May 2018 in Nairobi I said there is need for women to be recognized and their importance in terms of involvement in peace and security issues to achieve long lasting stability. This acknowledgment stems from the efforts, to my understanding, of international organizations, national governments and civil society around the world to establish what we now know as the Women, Peace and Security Agenda. I have continued to promote women rights through Advocacy in all its forms that seeks to ensure that women, particularly those who are most vulnerable in society, are able to: Have their voice heard on issues that are important to them. My support and promotion is geared towards guaranteeing equality before the law and non-discrimination for all people in the exercise of their human rights and fundamental freedoms, across the range of social, cultural, economic, civil and political rights.

Roula Pollard: What is your role as a leader of the Green political party?
Prof Onyari: I am the head of .the party and promoter of grassroots democracy and provide leadership as well as articulating party policies particularly on the environment.

Roula Pollard: What do you do as HIV Aids Counselor?
Prof Onyari: As an HIV/AIDS counselor I perform several roles such as counseling, educating, campaign planning and policymaking. And as a counselor I assist individuals that have been infected with the virus to overcome the trauma and put in place various coping mechanisms to help the individual lead as normal a life as possible aimed at making the individuals to achieve and sustain behavior change.

Roula Pollard: Prof Onyari, among others you look after the feeding, upbringing, education and health of 51 children. Do you consider all these children part of your family?
Prof Onyari: Yes, I do consider them to be part of my family because I have given them an opportunity and to feel being part of my family. This is a result of my firm believe and knowledge that every child is of need to be love and be part of a family.

Roula Pollard: Africa has been exploited for many centuries. Are you optimistic that Africa is becoming a prosperous continent spiritually and financially?
Prof Onyari: Yes. The social and political efforts and desire of the African people is to live in a strong, stable and prosperous continent, which is not only vital for Africans but is essential for the world. Africa’s abundant resources, its most precious being its young people, rapidly-growing and often digitally native and entrepreneurial population. To achieve a ‘win-win’ partnership with Africa, the world must take Africa’s own ambitions more seriously. Africa’s development must build on its assets the most precious being its people.

Roula Pollard: Thank you for this interview and wish you success with your projects, especially with caring of the orphans, the environment and your Peace efforts.

Setu Editorial: August 2018

Sunil Sharma
This issue is lean by design and plans to retain that look in future as well.
A lot of flab has been cut down. Internal quality checks by the editorial team have been undertaken rigorously and consistency ensured for the continual reading delight. A tough task--- selecting the best from a large number of multi-genre and multi-national submissions in a variety of Englishes for the faithful patrons! Often selection involves subjective preferences but certain well-defined rules--- grammar; syntax; themes and their exploration in creative way; style and voice---become the guiding stars on the literary firmament. Despite reluctant rejections on certain grounds---poor grammar and lack of communication of ideas in an appropriate mode, and, quite often, non-compliance with the guidelines--- the  doors of  the Setu remain open and it continues to be welcoming, warm and polite to its contributing writers from across the world; it manages to remain a preferred humble home to their talents as literary communicators of particular visions, histories and tones.
Serving the arts has been always a motto and a pleasure via this monthly, online, bilingual and mainly two-city project.
Another significant initiative in this ongoing service is an open call, a public invitation for nomination and self-nomination of individual writers and artistic organizations for consideration for the e-awards for excellence in arts for the year 2018, by the interested authors and groups, promoting liberal thinking, values and serious artistic culture. Some friends felt that the process for nomination and self-nomination should be started by the e-zine for a wider engagement of the global writing- and reading-community. The proposed selection should be based on certain tough standards so that the prolific writers with great following might be given these prizes by a jury consisting of the editors and some writers from outside invited for this job---both having impeccable credentials on the world literary stage. USA-based editor-in-chief and publisher, Anurag Sharma and I bowed to this demand and came up with a list of conditions as the guiding framework. The announcement is carried elsewhere in this issue and entries are solicited for the same. Distinguished artist and senior editor from Australia, Rob Harle has kindly agreed to be the chair of the jury. We will be updating you on that front soon.
Spread the word about this--- or nominate the best writers. In case you feel you deserve the e-award, please do nominate your name.
We welcome members of the tribe that continues to question official narratives through the political act of reading and writing. We also reserve the right to nominate, in case the entries fail to meet the set norms or the general expectations of the high-profile committee of judges.
The agenda is to recognise the work or the voices that are making a huge difference.
Hope you find the current edition as fulfilling as the last ones.
Keep on visiting the site, please!
I thank the contributors and the editorial team for their support and encouragement.
All the best.

Sunil Sharma
Editor, Setu, English
Kalyan (MMR), India
August 31, 2018

Setu Awards

Your attention, please.

Another project to serve you again:

Setu Bilingual рд╕ेрддु рдкрдд्рд░िрдХा is pleased to invite nominations and self-nominations for this year's Setu e-awards for excellence for the two categories given below:

1.The individual authors, critics, visual artists
2. Groups promoting fine works of art of others via anthologies and Fests that are free to participate.

This initiative is being undertaken on a global scale for the wider engagement of the literary audiences, including groups that are doing sterling services, in the field of liberal arts, and, our way of humble appreciation of such exceptional thinkers and collectives for their sterling contribution towards creating a better and saner world through the given artistic interventions in a culture of mass.

The bare conditions are:

---Minimum six books of prose, poetry, criticism; creative non-fiction or portfolios published by reputed publishers
---Brief resume, highlighting achievements, including awards
---A small paragraph about their world vision
---Their Impact Factor on recent writing as perceived subjectively, and, validated by a peer
---References, if any
---Their reading of Setu. The e-zine in their view.

The Deadline: September 30, 2018.

The entries will be judged by the editorial team, based in USA, UK, Australia and India, and, some invited experts. Their verdict will be final.

Please send your entry to the editors at this e-mail address only: setuedit@gmail.com. The subject line should mention: Entry for the awards---2018.

Entries are free.

Wish you all the best!

Editorial Board, Setu

Poetry: Qaisar Bashir

On the Bank of Madhumati

One clear forenoon,
I sat on the bank
of Madhumati,
The seamless flow
of life in it, made me
wonder: let me stitch my
muse on the stainless face
of its liquid canvas;
I stitched a line
For the aura around was fine;
But when I stitched another,
the tongue of my needle
broke and bled,
turned the canvas red!

... a Dozen Times

That hot and dark July night,
And the absence of my man
Gave me no respite,
I didn't sleep
But tossed on my bed;
A candle sat
On a windowsill like a minaret:
Illumining my room;
My still shadow
On the wall, stared at me;
I too fixed my gaze
At the shadow; rose to touch it
To say adieu to my loneliness,
But as my fingertips
Kissed my calm shadow,
I heard a knock on the window
Of my room. It scared me.
I put the candle off immediately
And from within, said: who could it be?
"Open the window or we'll break it," a male
Voice threatened.
I tried to scream,
But couldn't. I felt like
somebody held me by my neck
To choke me.
"Sister f**r, open the window," he threatened again.
"Do it, quickly... or we'll
Break windows, and shoot you inside."
They might be renegades, I thought.
Their mad shouts
Made the san dogs bark;
The barking intensified,
And compelled the men, outside
break a window in pieces;
I wailed and wailed and wailed,
But of no avail;
Since they barged in, a man
Switched the torch on; the light
Fell straight on my eyes, almost blinded me;

They stuffed my scarf in my mouth,
Bound my legs and arms,
And screwed me a dozen times!

About Author
Qaisar Bashir (born, 1988), an educator, a translator, author and poet, hails from Kashmir. He has a Master's Degree in English Literature from Kashmir University. Once Upon A Time, a translation of a Kashmiri novel Akh Dour by Bandsi Nirdoush, is his debut achievement. His poems have been
published in various National and International Journals like The Criterion, Langlit, Muse India and
atunispoetry.com.

a portrait of god as a tenant in my heart

Somrita Urni Ganguly

Somrita Urni Ganguly

my god pulls on the strings of a violin
like samvel yervinyan
as though tugging at the filigree veins
leading to the hot room of my heart
a string tears
ever so delicately
flooding my body with drops of carmine coloured music

my god loves me like my mother does
unquestioningly
with not a moment of doubt
not a moment of regret
when i wake up with a fresh burst of acne on my face
and even when i go to bed
with a thick layer of borolene to heal cracked heels
she loves me like there is no other
there never has been
and there never will be
ever
ever
she loves me
for i am her only and her entire

my god is the loch lomond
stretching out before my unbelieving eyes
a miracle on a lovesick autumn evening
illuminated by a salt smelling moon

my god has the patience of my father
and his kindness
and his infinite tenderness
despite everything that i have ever done
or said
he loves me enough to never tell ma
my deepest darkest sorriest secrets

my god is a glass of chardonnay
the smell of frying pork sausages in soya butter
and two thick cubes of cheddar cheese
for me
for me alone

my god kisses the inside of my lower lip
and the under of my arm
like my lying bastard of a lover does
who hates me enough to not love me
who loves me enough to never be able to leave me

my god sounds like fathima khanum sahiba at 90
and akhil says her voice breaks like a wishbone
every time she hits the high notes
to sing
waqt ki kaid mey zindagi hai
magar chand ghadiyaan yahin hain jo azaad hain

my god is in my resfeber
and the first flush of flying on an airplane all alone
to a country i have never known

my god is the whisperings of the sea in brighton
coming and going and coming back again to me
familiarly nightly daily

my god is neruda talking about cherry blossoms
and springs

my god is the man at the bar in las vegas
desiring my almond skin

my god is in the fragrance of night jasmines
redeeming an unlivable summer afternoon in Calcutta

my god is in the fading ink of the love sonnet
found scribbled on the last page of a second hand bibhutibhushan

my god is in the moistness of a beagle’s nose
licking my hand for the very first time

my god is in the sigh that the earth lets out
when drops of monsoon rain caress its dry

my god is in the tangerine maple leaf
pressed between the pages of my mother’s macbeth

my god is the molten warm jaggery spilling out on my tongue
after the first bite of a shondesh

or in the butter uncurling on the plate
after my knife cuts into a perfectly cooked turkey kiev

my god is in the trees telling you stories
during a raging storm

my god is in the belief that harry potter
will make it in the end

my god is in the memory of the first kiss in the rain
saved in a crystal vial that looks a lot like the human heart

my god is in pather panchali
masaan
before sunrise
and blue valentine

my god is in the setting sun painting the arabian sea incarnadine
my god is in the niagara spraying my face wet on ma and dad’s anniversary
my god is in the airplane chasing the rising sun while flying over the black pacific
my god is in the first composed haiku sitting on the upper deck of a ship to andaman

my god is in the poet that i want to be
my god is in the fire i hide within me

do you believe in god?

For That Glow

Moinak Dutta
For that glow
I have perhaps trodden many miles
Watching how beyond hills the Sun does rise
Every day with a splendour bright and generous
Making the world filled with colors, wonderous,
And then the day when comes to the close
I when come home, after the day's din and chaos,
I look at that glow as held in the lamp of the lady
Who stood there quiet, like an ethereal beauty,
I think of then how she stood there for hours
For her father who drew that portrait of hers,
The glow of hope for her father, who did toil,
Seventy years ago, on this very land's soil,

The country had perhaps then like a new born
Was waiting with smiles to catch the hues of morn
And there the father painted the portrait
Of his daughter standing with the lamp, straight.

Poetry (The Product of Pure Passions)

Mazher Hussain Abdul Ghani

Mazher Hussain Abdul Ghani (Haraeen Hussain)

Poetry profuse erotic sensation
Words flow like a river to excite emotions
Poets concrete translucent state of imagination
Where breath is intervened in breath
And lovers dwell in the holy bliss of love
In hallucination lovers touch the bosom of celestial sanctum
Mystery chants their names
And heavens open the doors of eternity
To those who are merged in serenity of love
In the horizon of odes
A poet's thoughts glow in ecstasy
Words caress words and dance in joyous mood
Verses of poesy imprint images in the stars
Blood of poets turns into flowing ink
When they paint imagination on the canvas of life
Soul conveys a message to soul in words
Poets bestow compassion and express experiences, feelings and sacred emotions
Lyrics symbolize heart beat to give background music
When we chant the verses in eloquence to rejoice our souls
Poetry is a holy bliss
That puts life into dead objects
An artist ignites a fire in soul
The unheard music of poetic sensation is mesmerizing
Like moving water in the sea shores
In this soulful intermingling of divine passions
Words float and create a symphony, tides caress the soul of tides
Through poetry a heart travels in fascination
Words become a prayer, with gratitude and divine offerings
Sometimes imagination build a castle or a sanctuary in heavens
Where serenity and peace embrace the lovers
Poets are the pilgrims, creators and light bearers
Holding the candles of love to kindle this world.

Poetry: Sayan Dey

Sayan Dey

By Sayan Dey


Modern Day Solitude
Sayan Dey

He wakes up early in the morning,
abuses the alarm clock,
brushes his teeth,
half irons his clothes,
grabs a half-eaten apple,
and then a growl to the neighbor –
“Hey man, will you shut the hell up,
and stop talking? I am in search of solitude.”

Missing the 7:00 am bus,
he growls again,
speeding down the topsy-turvy footpath,
he growls one more time.
Then, honking comes the mini-bus,
and then a growl to the driver –
“Hey man, will you shut the hell up,
and stop the bus? I am in search of solitude.”

The bus stops.
He gets up.
The bus runs down the town,
passes the same woman in red gown.
Then, comes once again the clowny frown.
“Hey man, will you shut the hell up,
and stop the bus? I have reached my destination of solitude.”

He gets down,
walks into the crowd of solitude….
a stinking heap of bank balance,
cluttering bottles of alcohols,
bed sheets spotted with sperm drops,
a garbage of broken dreams,
and endless suicide notes.


My Cubicle

A well equipped corner, with
a grey table,
a black revolving chair,
a warm glass,
filled with freshly brewed coffee.

I arrive to open the windows,
get soaked in the fresh delight of the sun, or
in the sprinkling raindrops.
……………………………………..
 I also close the windows,
amidst the setting sun…

In between….

A thunder of cataclysmic cacophony. 
  

Amit Shankar Saha: Author Interview by Lopa Banerjee


“Poetry is more akin to music than painting”, says Amit Shankar Saha: Author of 'Balconies of Time'

Balconies of Time’, the debut poetry collection of Amit Shankar Saha had reached my home in Texas, USA after quite a series of erroneous attempts of shipping the book long-distance. However, once I reached me, I looked at its simple, yet evocative cover portraying the intimate essence of a house, an emotional string that I had left in the unnamed alleys of my maiden home in Kolkata, India, and thereafter started my journey of reading the book cover-to-cover, reading each poem in the collection as a unique room, window, balcony, door of that ubiquitous house, which I might have never escaped from ever.

Being a friend and fellow poet of Rhythm Divine Poets, where Amit, the author is the co-founder, the instinctive and instant connection that we made with each other was through the device of poetry and words. Hence, quite naturally, when I finished reading his book, there were questions about its intrinsic theme, its complex yet endearing emotional nuances that were bubbling in my mind, and thus the seed of this author interview was sown, and eventually brought to fruition with a deft and critical analysis by the author himself, dissecting his work, triggered by my questions.

Lopa Banerjee: First of all, many congratulations, Amit, on the publication of ‘Balconies of Time’. The lines of the title poem in the collection echo in my mind with a lingering impact after I finished reading. “There’s a hollow in the forest/Which the night cannot fill/ And the sleepy blue ocean/Walks sleepy blue still. There’s a hollow in the strangers, Hollow in their glances/Lurking in the faded corners/With folded hemline of chances.” There is a lot of sensitivity in the lines, the depiction of emotive imagery, as aptly described in the foreword to the book by Dr. Sanjukta Dasgupta, poet, academician and literary scholar. Would you say your poetry emerged from reading the classic romantic poets or the modern poets Walt Whitman, W.B. Yeats et al?
Amit Shankar Saha: Thank you. The aim of the collection was to have a persistence of impact on the minds of the readers and I am happy that is what is happening. My poetry emerged from reading the classic romantic poets but I have been writing serious poetry for about twenty years now so it has developed with further readings of the modern poets though not exactly Whitman but Yeats, Eliot and others definitely. At different stages of my poetic career I have written different types of poetry under different influences. However, what comes out eventually is both an amalgamation of influences as well as originality. It is my individual voice now.
Lopa:  Many of the poems in your debut collection 'Balconies of Time' have the essence of nostalgia of belonging, in relation to the feelings of home, places you have visited physically or metaphorically, objects that are both part of your inner microcosm and well as the greater visual, visceral reality. Would you agree to this observation, and if yes, how would you explain it in relation to your body and mind?
Amit: At a literary festival I once heard Anita Desai say that nostalgia is not good for a writer as it comes easy and makes the writer complacent. But you will not find the typical usage of nostalgia in my poems because the sense undergoes a metaphorical metamorphosis and thereby reflects what you aptly termed as my inner microcosm. People who know me superficially find it difficult to imagine that I am the same person who writes these poems. Sometimes I too search for that person who writes my poems.
Lopa: Before this collection happened, some of these poems you have mentioned, have been published in literary journals and e-zines. Tell us a few words about the birth of this compilation and what particularly inspired you to name the book 'Balconies of Time'. Has it been a deeply philosophical choice, or is it a name that tries to decode the intrinsic emotional meanings of the m├йlange of poems?
Amit:  The compilation has poems selected from those mainly composed between 2015 and 2017. The poems were written during a very inspired phase of my life where there was a great upheaval of feelings. The title poem itself was inspired, as I have stated in the acknowledgement, by the words of my fellow poet Ananya Chatterjee. I had stated earlier somewhere that these poems chart an evolution of time from one state of situ to another. They bring in moods where the experiences of the poet become poetry. These emotional experiences are added with my travel experiences between Kolkata and Bolpur. Bolpur gave me new rustic metaphors whereas Kolkata always stood for urbanity from where I connected with the world, world where my friends travelled to. The private and personal mix with the public and social and become an aesthetic whole in my poems.  
Lopa: As a scholar of English literature, many of your poems in this collection and also your other published poems have deeply nuanced language and imagery embedded in their core. For example, in the poem ‘Silverfish’, you write a poetic fable: “As I lie on my bed/And the night eats me up/A silverfish comes to my rescue…A long lost thought that lies/folded in the cupboard/Seeks a sudden breath of fresh air”. Again, in the poem ‘Gyre’, you write these lines which depict your passion for the beauty of the abstract: “Today I sit to write/the last poem of the year. Words queue to climb/the anthill of poetry. They mate with each other/to give birth to meaning.” Would you say poetry as a medium of art/expression derives its essential strength from the subtle rubrics of strong, distinctive imageries?
Amit: I believe poetry has to do simultaneously with imagery and sound. Even when a poem is read in the mind and not aloud, the sound of the words that depict the images has to leave a persistence of memory. Poetry is more akin to music than painting. When you see a painting you usually see the whole of it at a time, whereas you listen to only a part of the music at a time. Similarly, you read a poem only in parts – words, one line at a time perhaps. Often I forget the first lines of poems of some length with abstract imagery while reading because they don’t have persistence of memory of the lines in my mind because the sound of the words is not lingering. I try that does not happen with my poems. Poetry is definitely strengthened by distinctive imageries but those imageries have to be sustained in the minds of the readers through appropriate sounding words.
Lopa: It would be very interesting to know what inspired your introductory poem of the book 'Awadh' where you pay a tribute to Mirza Ghalib, the Urdu-Persian bard. Did the lyricism of Urdu Shayari and the Ghazal form entice you as a poet? We poets often say that poetry writing is a cathartic experience for us on the emotional plane. Do you think the catharsis is stronger in the Urdu Shayari genre of poetry, or does the complex emotional nuances of English poetry let us explore catharsis more strongly?
Amit: When I was compiling the collection, I had first thought of putting the title poem at the beginning, but then I put it in the middle and decided to start the collection with ‘Awadh’ since it goes back in history and time. It harks back to a different era of poetry and defines an age that is no longer there – an age of the bards of Urdu poetry that was overrun by the Empire. Moreover, the poem is one of the first poems that I recited at a poetry meet organized by Rhythm Divine Poets. So, it justifies itself as a precursor in more sense than one. I am definitely enticed by Urdu Shayari and Ghazal. My poems have both the influences of Indian as well as Western tradition of composing poems. As for being cathartic, poetry is cathartic irrespective of the traditions. It depends on the poet. We are privileged to have access and understanding of both the traditions and that enrich our poetry greatly.

Lopa:  I sense after reading your poems on certain places and landmarks of Kolkata, including Some Place Else, Park Street, Gariahat, Southern Avenue that Kolkata, the city becomes a metaphor for remembrances and an intrinsic sense of emptiness, like a drink in which you, the poet drowns, to “swim with loss.” In the poem ‘Gariahat’, emblematic of the bustling street of Kolkata, you write: “That day we flew over the island of Gariahat./ The flyover licked us/and we were lifted up in incredible lightness/of being in love.” In these lines, we find the urban semantics, the post-modern imagery that embraces the physical landscape of the city and your metaphorical realities in very minimalist, yet strong poetic expressions. What would you say about this observation about Kolkata as your muse?
Amit: Kolkata has been a witness to my happy times and sad times, so naturally it finds a place in my poems. The city gave me urban metaphors – so many places are associated with remembrances. Every moment that has gone past leaves a certain sense of emptiness. I can revisit the same place but not the same moment and hence the sense of loss which is good for a poet, for it leads to the quintessential postmodernist philosophy of presentism. But I link it with Keatsian struggle between transience and permanence. A poet is a person who is caught between paradoxes, stranded amidst dilemmas, momentarily immobilized by predicaments. Kolkata as a muse has given me the semantics to explore such emotions.

Lopa: The sensuality of erotic poetry also finds ample voice in your poem ‘Discovering Guilt’. “Your body I peel like an orange/And your eyes an inflorescence split in two,/ Your breasts I suckle like a hot day/And your breath I take in kisses askew..” What is your take on the element of eroticism in English poetry and how do you think has it evolved over the years?
Amit: Usually I struggle to write erotic poetry but friends and fellow poets help me to achieve some measure of success when I attempt it. It is very important for a poet to get constructive feedback especially from those who have been successful in that genre and I have been fortunate in that regard. As for eroticism in English poetry, I have been influenced by the sensuousness of Coleridge’s ‘Christabel’, Keats’s ‘The Eve of St. Agnes’. Eroticism in English poetry has definitely evolved from the bawdy verses of Earl of Rochester to the stark realities of modern times. But there are other languages too where erotic verses have flowered considerably.
Lopa: Let me ask you about my most favorite poem in the collection, ‘Double Helix’. You write: “I have my mother’s genes, /I am not a poet/And this is not a poem. /At the crossroad this will not pay for my coffee./It is still the seventies/And we are still unborn.” The lines juxtaposed against each other in the poem depicting a ruthless narrative of the seventies which merges with our own postmodern realities. Was this particular poem born out of angst or the tyranny of nostalgia?
Amit: This poem is a perfect example of multiple layering of meanings in a poem. I composed it after a fellow poet posted her mother’s poem in Facebook. I delve into the circumstances of my mother who never got an opportunity to write a verse, being too surrounded by household duties as a housewife. So this is a feminist poem. But it is not only that. It is also about me when I contradict myself by stating that my poem is not a poem. It is just a statement of hard realities of life. So it is a deeply personal poem. But the poet that I am, is also a product of his times being born in the late seventies at the end of a turbulent decade when my peers too were born and grew up. So the poem transcends the personal and goes into the social sphere. Towards the ending, the poem becomes almost political in raising questions of right and left spectrum of political ideologies. The poem was written at a time when there was this controversy of the Bengali poet Srijato’s poem which was deemed to be not in good taste by a certain political class. This poem was my response to the right-left conundrum. But despite this political angle, the interrogation is from a very personal point of view where I go back to my mother and my fellow poet’s mother and query which of them will now become a Naxalite. History has given us enough evidence of repercussions of rising extremism. But the layering does not end there. Apart from these immediate contemporary and historical realities there is this whole look into the business of a poem. The poem was written after World Poetry Day which is celebrated by many coffee shops around the world where you pay for your coffee with your poem. So it also interrogates the purpose of a poem as a non-utilitarian creation of imagination which comments on social, political, historical, as well as personal and private realities of life with an aesthetic consciousness. Poetry is art and through my conversation with my fellow poet in this poem, I am delving symbolically into the genesis of it – the genes of art within the double helix of artistic creation. There are many other layers which perhaps the reader will discover further. No doubt it is your favourite poem and also mine and whenever I read it in gatherings, I am appreciated.

Lopa: On the other hand, there are poems like ‘Suicide Bomber’, “The Wilderness of Binsar’ and ‘Silhouettes’, ‘Aleppo’ etc. where several human images convey the essence of the multi-layered politics of the world of our times, the world in a state of flux, of turmoil and turbulence. How would you say the personal and political collides with each other in your collection of poems?

Amit: Exactly the point I am getting at. The personal is political and the political personal. When I am writing about love I am also commenting about a political situation and vice versa. Love and politics intersect and the turmoil of the world reflects the turmoil in my mind. So each state can be interchangeably used linked by poignant metaphors. A poem should yield to multiple interpretations and this is how through metaphors it is embedded with meanings.

Lopa:  In the foreword, Dr. Sanjukta Dasgupta very engagingly elucidates the ever-expanding domain of Indian English poetry and how poets like Parthasarathy, Kamala Das, Nissim Ezekiel et al had employed the English language in their poetry as a means of liberation of their poetic selves by indulging in cultural pluralism, that resulted in “a cultural bridge between the home and the world.” We would like to know how you envision this entire process as a poet belonging to the domain of Indian English poetry.
Amit: There has always been cultural pluralism and history has proof of it. No one except those who are still stuck in primitive time warp can escape cultural pluralism. Just as no poem can have its meaning alone, no culture can have its meaning alone. I have been influenced by both Indian and Western tradition of poetry and it is a great advantage. This advantage needs to be exploited to produce good poetry. English is the language in which I am proficient and it is the language of my imagination. But that does not mean I don’t use words from other Indian languages. Cultural pluralism gives Indian poetry that richness.

Lopa: As a co-founder of Rhythm Divine Poets, a poetry and arts collaborative based in Kolkata, you have been engaged in curating and conducting many poetry and literature events in the heart of the city. Kolkata has had the privilege of being the cultural capital of India since many moons now, and poetry and art has been at the core of the city a long time before the birth of this new generation of writers and artists who inhabit the city now. What are the most fascinating elements of the poetry revolution in Kolkata currently that you would like to share?
Amit: Rhythm Divine Poets (RDP), co-founded with Sufia Khatoon and Anindita Bose, has created through sustained efforts a sort of revolution in the poetry scene of Kolkata. It has given Kolkata visibility in the poetry circles of the nation as well as the world. The events that we organize round the year give local and visiting poets a platform in the city. We have been appreciated by many people. But it could not have happened without the support of senior poets like Sanjukta Dasgupta and Sharmila Ray. Now there is also Intercultural Poetry and Performance Library (IPPL) which has joined the bandwagon and we look forward to even more poetry related events and promotion of the art form. What is most fascinating about this poetry revolution in Kolkata is the enthusiasm of poets like Ananya Chatterjee, Joie Bose, Nikita Parik, Ruth Pal Chaudhuri, Kushal Poddar and others in participating in the cause and promoting the art. It is very encouraging and positive. Also we have been very receptive to collaborations locally, nationally and internationally. RDP believes that integration and autonomy can exist side by side and we can always be open to better alternatives through out-of-the-box thinking.
Lopa: What message would you like to give to young aspirant poets, university students, young professionals from diverse sectors in India who want to dive into the world of poetry publishing? Would you tell them that in spite of many claiming otherwise, poetry is there to stay as a timeless aesthetic art form?
Amit: Poetry is definitely there to stay. It has been there even before the birth of language in the music of birdsongs and it will outlive all of us. My advice to young poets is two-fold: first the practical one – write, choose and then publish. It is a long process and unless you have written enough it is foolhardy to publish a book of mediocre verses for a serious poet. Start by getting published in journals and magazines. RDP runs the Poetry Chapbook Contest and so does many other organizations outside India. Participate in those competitions and get noticed. The second advice is that since the poetry scene is now very vibrant, you have to work really hard if you want to belong to the contemporary poetry scene. Don’t adopt unfair means but rather invest yourself in the study of traditional as well as contemporary poetry. Don’t seek instant success else you will end up just being a flash in the pan. Aesthetics require cultivation. If you are good, and to know that it will take time, you should have the sense that you will be among the poets for posterity.

BIOS:
Amit Shankar Saha

Dr. Amit Shankar Saha is a faculty member in the Department of English at Seacom Skills University. He did his PhD in English from Calcutta University in 2010. He is also a researcher, a short story writer and a poet. His research articles have appeared in journals and anthologies nationally and internationally. His short stories and poems have been published in periodicals and books both in India and abroad. He has won prizes at a number of writing competitions which include Poiesis Award for Excellence in Literature (Short story-2015), Wordweavers Prize (Poetry-2011, Short story-2014), The Leaky Pot - Stranger than Fiction Prize  (2014), Asian Cha – Void Poetry Prize (Commendable mention-2014), Reuel International Prize for Poetry (Shortlisted-2016). Dr. Amit Shankar Saha is also the co-founder and coordinator of Rhythm Divine Poets, a Kolkata-based poets group dedicated to the promotion of poetry.

Lopamudra Bannerjee
Lopamudra Banerjee is an author and poet based in Dallas, Texas. Her memoir Thwarted Escape: An Immigrant’s Wayward Journey (Authorspress, 2016) has been First Place Category Winner at Journey Awards 2014 hosted by Chanticleer Reviews and also received Honorary Mention at Los Angeles Book Festival 2017. She has received the International Reuel Prize for Translation (2016) for Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘Nastanirh’ translated as ‘The Broken Home’ and also the International Reuel Prize for Poetry 2017 instituted by The Significant League. She has been a featured poet/artist at Dark Moon Poetry, a women’s poetry, Dallas. Her poetry, stories and essays have appeared at reputed literary journals and anthologies. Her recent publication titled ‘Woman and Her Muse’ published by Authorspress, is a collection of poetry and memoir inspired by art, travel, Kolkata and cinema.