Showing posts with label Jindagi Kumari. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jindagi Kumari. Show all posts

The soul is forever in equinox: A review of Inhabiting by Basudhara Roy

- Jindagi Kumari


Basudhara Roy’s book of poems, Inhabiting, recounts “moments” lived inside and beyond spaces and self; life and art. The collection not only promises “words plentiful”, “a handful of soul” and “salt” of “thoughts” (‘Circle’ p. 23) but also the “whole dark being” of the artist.
 Needless to say that the title “Inhabiting” is a metaphor where inhabiting is not limited to known and identifiable places. However, the sundry implications and possibilities with which the term appears make it more than a metaphor. A poem by Indira Sant ’Kanav’ quoted in the beginning of the collection states: 
In a room 
twelve feet by twelve feet
I count thousands of miles;
a window two feet wide 
shows me the whole sky; (ll.1-5)

“heart’s piggy-bank”
The lines hint at a “chasmophilic” vision of the poet, an outlook enabled by her love for small spaces. Poetry carves newer routes for the poet for diving deeper into the self and revealing newer facets of the immediate personal and socio-political surroundings. Imaginativeness is the space where poetry and poet inhabit each other. The short poem ‘Nativity’ inducts readers to the genesis and a mysterious, mother-like, bond between the art and the artist. In the poem ‘Reckoning’ the speaker calls poems her “heart’s piggy-bank”:
my pleasure only comes
at my long day’s end,
from recounting them to you. (ll.19-21)

In her lyrical piggy bank, the poet hoards “raw and rude” experiences; of love, pain, relationships, and questions about womanhood. The poem ‘Names’ offers an approach to relationships where it might help to leave “things cozily scattered” (l.20). A quest for perfection, and attempt to achieve clarity by naming and branding, may play spoilsport mitigating the purity and possibility of the unexpressed emotions. 
‘Years’ stresses that acknowledging the non-negotiables in relationship is as vital as negotiating gaps. The poem speaks through elemental imagery. Time makes the “Sun-born”, “heat-bred” persona with a “tropical bosom” journey from “what would I know of ice” to “I know ice now”. Evocation of climate, continents, and territories underline range of Roy’s imagery widening from “home” to the universe. 
 Roy’s selection of central imagery in poems fascinates for its novelty, aptness, and intuitiveness. ‘Reflections’, for example, recreates both the magic and the shock of love through the picture of kantha embroidery: “…The magic lining ripped / off love’s kantha work, you’re left fingering / its rude …underside. (ll. 13-15). ‘To love you’ illustrates the role of empathy in relationship:
I must travel to your long -lost
innocence, to the wondrous suns
of your youth, to its deciduous rains,
to your tops, kites, marbles, books (‘To Love You’, ll.9-12)

The persona’s live imagination of the trajectory of her partner’s bodily and mental evolution; his physical environs, aspirations and fears, shows the poet’s innate understanding of human psychology. Marked by a tender and broody mood, the poem hides a quiet irony in the refrain “I must”. The persona reminds us of the archetypes of Parvati and Sati; the epitomes of unquestioned giving and penance. 
 “love for liberty”
A group of Roy’s poems in the collection voice a determined love for emancipation of women. These poems interrogate and expose the unfairness of patriarchy. The following verses attack the patriarchal appropriation of iconic Hindu deities Durga and Kali as representatives of women:
It’s their tools you always wield, unmindful
of why all your hands should serve them
or why tools were never yours to begin with (‘Advice for Durga’ ll.33-35)

Structured as a series of questions, the verse coalesces Durga’s image with Ishtar, Inana, Astarte, Cybele – mythical figures of similar stature; powers and symbolism, from other part of the world – to convey how history, stories, and iconography have manipulated and failed women. After her earful to Durga, the poet moves on to sing a lullaby to Kali, whose fierce persona appears to be a camouflage for her troubled self: 
suspended between your witnessing teeth, is an ageless battle
between silence and speech. Your tale, Kali, remains untold
  …Only your body
 is a crusading ship, determined to reach meaning’s shore.
 Rest this vigil for a moment, Kali. Lie down in dust with me, (‘For Kali’ ll.31-35)

The visualization of Kali as a woman conflicted between speech and silence and extension of camaraderie to her render her a symbol of aggression against societal oppression: 
“Rest from being a warrior, Kali. Let me calm your commitment,
caress you into a sleep. You must be so weary of being a scream.” (ll.39-40)

‘Letter to an Unborn Mother’ captures women’s sufferings as mothers which is, normally, concealed by the generic and dreamy portrayals of childbearing and childbirth. It is imperative to be mindful of the mothers who are “resented, unwanted, (and) loathed. There are mothers who are scared and insecure of: “knives, syringes, need of heirs”, “…nutrition /forbidden, unafforded”, “… food-poisoning, … ragging”. The poem petitions that all mothers be set free from prejudices of various kinds:

 … And what nation 
 tell me mother, can safeguard
 us from such persecution? What
 flag, what colour, what anthem
 mother, can finally set us free? (ll. 61-65)

‘Memories of my Grandmother as a Clock’ narrates the intriguing life-story of grandmother whose recall and conversations tear through patriarchy and admonish women in family to make their minds “invincible” “fortress”. The poem ‘Woman-to-Woman’ exhorts women to gather their inner strength; “sing of what rushes in your veins”: 

 …only when you draw sap
from earth’s breast, home the
earthworm in your soil; only when the

sky stretches above you free, … (‘Woman-to-Woman’, ll. 61-64)

The poet uses myths, memories, and observations, and continues to sing inspiring anthems for women’s liberation.

 ‘A Story of Water’ and ‘Graffiti’ are poems that fit dozens of contexts and exude numerous meanings in the short reading moment. Reflecting upon the havoc causes by the pandemic, ‘Graffiti’ creates a somber atmosphere that envelops the soul of the reader. Some of the haunting analogies are; “vagrant wind” as “widower bereft of faith”, death as “receding of form into space”, the effect of epidemic as “sprouting unbeing like flowers”, and the need to “catalogue all lasts”. Suggestiveness has been a strong feature of Roy’s poems in her previous collections, in Inhabiting it is achieved with a simpler and more curated diction marking a greater self-assurance in the artist. Besides, poems in the volume seem more organized in terms of emotions, language and the appearance on the pages— barring a few where the argument seems slightly overdrawn. One of her reviewers, Anisur Rahman, rightly observes that “Inhabiting is a way of putting both the poem and the home in order.”
 The collection, Inhabiting, appears to be what “Diary” had been to Anne Frank— a treasure of intimate and essential interactions with self. But many of these interactions are also passionate pleas and steely conviction for societal reforms. It is Roy’s poetic combo offer of the flavours of “caprice magnanimity turbulence” obtained from a deeper plunge into the singularity of her voice.

Book Review: Moon in My Teacup

Review by Jindagi Kumari

Moon in My Teacup
Author: Basudhara Roy
Publisher: Writer’s Workshop
Year: 2019
ISBN: 978-93-5045-189-2
Price: ₹ 300.00


Basudhara Roy’s maiden collection of poetry, Moon in My Teacup, is safely a “highbrow” book, with its promising profundity and novel aesthetics like “kohl freshly gathered”.  

As gathering kohl requires burning of wick and deposition of its flames, poetry of Roy, too, seems to emerge from deposition of intimate experiences subsumed in ingenuous articulation of the prismatic topography of a woman’s life and her mind.

Roy curates reflective pictures of throes of female desire; nostalgia ,love, loss, waiting, commitment, creativity, hope, misgivings, anger, and bitterness, with a tingling wistfulness that renders the mundane otherworldly. Consider the poem ‘Saffron Rain’:

Basudhara Roy
You lavish, today,
fulfilment unasked.

Had I but known
it were your day of charity,

I would have begged at your door
for some saffron in alms,

that there might rain
upon these denuded palms

auspicious lines—
where you refused

a lifetime ago—
to etch promises. (p.34)

Jindagi Kumari
The poems’ form of impassioned monologue where the persona invariably addressed a ‘you’ lends it a notable vigour. The lyrical mulling of reminiscences of betrayal and hurt, expectations, and resolves, alternates between tones that are grave and garrulous, sentimental and belligerent.
  
The poetic unveiling of remorse, recollections, and reconciliations makes one wonder whether the poems are aimed at self –therapy; a coming to terms with self through “concealed reeling confessions.” (‘Commitment’ 28)  

However, the tales of personal journeys are redrawn “to incorporate an-‘other’”— an echo against the normative and male centric meaning making where women’s desires are judged as “inviolable lust” while she is reduced to a mere “womb”:

I am all the people I have met,
I am the old woman
With face like baked apple, (“Labyrinthine Thoughts in Linear Space”, p.43)


In the Bal Kanda of Ramayana Valmiki credits compassion for the  “possibility of genuine poetic expression.” He says to his disciple Bhardwaja; “From my soka (lamentation) has come a wonderful sloka (verse). Many of Basudhara Roy’s poems spring from the well of “soul-blood” and a discerning camaraderie with fellow women:  “The wombless  body, desire-snubbed / retracts like a scorned pariah”and:

….insomnia claims
the other side of  an unequal bed—
                                         (‘Used Body’, p. 66)

There is a bitter disapproval of the patriarchal dynamics of conjugality and consequent lack of mutuality in relationship:

…I keep giving;
you royally receive,

God-like, divine,
you pour love like wine
fortifying what dwindling self

with illusions megalomaniacal?
It’s high time, I think,
You stopped playing God. (‘Unrequited’, p.41)


The poem ‘Pillion riding, on a Winter Evening’ offers a comprehensive list of common worries of Indian women:


Two middle-aged women,
credulous faces, untended hair,
lost to hypertension, thyroid, anaemia,
to never-ending family cares,
budgeted shoppings, bickering helps
filial discontent, spousal neglect,
caesared bodies,  stormy passions,
stretch-marked hobbies, lost careers,
and virgin dream gardens— (p.88)

But women are not always cribbers; proud of their beings, they embrace and celebrate their limitations and self-pity with confidence and immeasurable optimism:  

“attuned only
to our gains
we pocket the change
from each transaction, the jokes, smiles, laughters, phone calls
borrowed lipsticks, dresses…

The poet also charms with her scathing ironic eyes, unmissable, specially  in poems such as ‘Rumours’, ‘Resolving’ , ‘Thus Spake the Godman’s Lover’ and ‘New Year’:

“I am planning to get a makeover
this new year,” I confide.
A wall for the heart,
Diasphanous tissue for the face,
Still mirrors for eyes.as for my thoughts,
I have considered replacing them
With scale, to measure and weigh
All that they get and give away       (p.78)

 Processes of nostalgia, memories, and time are other points of poetic reflections: “And memories roll into one another. /Like water breaking from a dam/or from the womb. (64)

The poet’s seamless wizardry of words; witty analogies, unique repertoire of idioms and imagery inspired by the corpus of dietary and savory (‘Culinary Love’ and ’Memorial) arboricultural, parenting, and housekeeping, keep the reader hooked. The following poem illustrates how the imagery of gardening and home space functions as vehicle to the poetic mind space:


…as they stoically await
each morning
the watering can
and the customary parted –curtain
greeting to the sun, (p.70)

only that I know, that walled and cornered
within the periphrastic prose of concrete
their kinship with the forest
is long –since sundered; (p.69)


In the last analysis, Basudhara Roy’s collection of 52 poems is a corsage of a caring rebel determined to continue a vehement dialogue with the conscience of society around conundrums of a woman’s individuality and her place. 

Assessing Roy as a poet, one agrees with P.Lal’s pronouncement in his credo of Writer’s Workshop (printed on the inside of the back cover of the collection): “It does not print well-known names; it makes names known and well known…”  
  

Works Cited

“Bala-Kanda.” Ramanyana: the Story of Lord Rama,presented by Bhakti Vikasa swami.p.7
 Oliver, Kelly. (ed.) French Feminist Reader. Rowman &Littlefield Publishers: USA.2000


Poetry: Jindagi Kumari

Jindagi Kumari

1. Rapoem

Rap(e)presenting rape-age
Rape-news
Rape-page; rape-break
Ra(m)p(e)agnt
Rap(e)ository of rape-story
Rapacious, rape-kill
rape-death

Rape-city
Raps
Raprotest
Rape-march to rip

The rap(e)immunity of
The rapesick
rape-culture;

Rape-country
resumes
routine rape.

Gang rape
old rape
young rape
told rape
read rape.

Re-rape,
rapetrap tap tap.

Rapend?

HAHAHA…

Rape-clap clap clap…

         

2. O Delhi! 


O my foggy city
Your smogy crown
enveloped in the anguish
of the  teeming lodgers you are stretching your arms for.

Multi-limbed, multifaced and conjoined
you are suave and sick,
grand and ghastly.

Clad in corduroy
you speak little.

You  rush
and crush,
scan,
escalate.

Mercurial and harsh
You freeze, flood, furnace.


O detached
your derisive look

but mind
I will find myself
in you, oneday.


3. My Balcony


My every morning claims
a view of sky
above the endless stretch of multi-storey pigeonholes
and greenery
streaked in the trees at each side of the road;
and the pruned bushes along the pedestrian lane
and remains of stratospheric histrionics;
rain, thunder, dust
daily whiff of Delhi air.
my Balcony
my halcyon space.

4. Soul-place


O bricked, hedged and foliaged
why do you visit me each winter?

Why play peekaboo as I stagger between absences
and crowd of kin;
when tears stay in labour
and die in womb.

How do you find me every time
I become a nobody;
neither the inquisitive prostitute
nor the mute goddess.

Do you desire to make me or  to unmake?

O airy, sunny, dusty: o gone
can you be the companion of a flesh and blood?

What part of my soul did I leave with you
that you wish to return?


5. Memoryland

A drop of tear in the offing
mirrors your wrinkled arms
encircling my adolescent shoulder.
The aroma of your ancient love
seeping through each thread
of  your worn cotton saree.

On the patchworked bedspread
upon the winter special
strawbed
how you lit the  path of my dreams
with the shiny pearl of your story treasure
in the pitch black cold night.

My love you still live
in that time of our time,
in the melancholy street of
my memoryland.

Jindagi Kumari

Dr. Jindagi Kumari is Assistant Professor at Maharaja Surajmal Institute of Technology, New Delhi. She teaches English Language and Communication Skills to B. Tech First year and Third year Students. The area of her research interests are Indian English Poetry, Indian English Fiction and Post-colonial Studies among others.