My Heart Leaps

Without any forethought, I keep

My heartiest heart leap so deep

Into the oasis of heavenly bliss

A quite welcome dip not to miss

To bloom a flower of infinite petals,

Brimful of nectar for winged mortals

And sing in the delight of full heights;

At a joyous sight of beautiful sights,

In quick response to honeyed sounds,

Spectacular nature wonders sans bounds:

The rain-drops, sprinkled, sure to refract

VIBGYOR, colors in treasures to attract

The peacock to spread wide its plumes

In the glimpse of blue clouds; joy blooms

High mountains to shine in the silver stain

The cuckoo to outpour its pleasant strain

Distant verdant vales be in the echo

On and on, of the most melodious flow

Bars of clouds in many diverse colors

All artists fail to portray its adventures

Dawn and dusk and east and west

All birds to flutter their wings in zest

The moon to sing and the stars to dance

In deed, a miraculous event by chance

Streams to glide past with their echo-roar

Of pebbles at the bottom after rain-pour                 

3         84        219                                                                                   

             TRIVENI (Vol. 83, No. 4, Sep-Dec, 2014) 

                                                           HYDERABAD 

THE ESSENCE OF POETRY

No Definite Definitions:                     

Poetry is multisided and multifaceted for its infinite characteristics to reflect a definite goal like the flower of infinite petals to spread the definite perfume. It is the queen of all genres as it is not just like a novel, short story, essay, drama or anything else as it includes all the merits of every genre else. It is everything to be beyond the defining parameters. If it is defined in a specific way, it is not poetry since it marks unlimited rich variety.   It is indefinable as it is inadequately definable in the way the ocean with its infinite shores in all directions is invisible to the physical eye. It is not confined to any age, any nation, any region, any faith or any sect or any class or any person. It surpasses the boundaries of time and space. Right from the dawn of civilization it has been so variously defined by poets and critics. All look and aim at one goal, the sole goal of poetry. It has the definite goal or specific purpose of communication with a profound feeling to have its indelible impact and inerasable imprint on its audience for a reform or good change. A poet aims at a definite message through a poem as Rabindranath Tagore delineates the Divine infinite gifts that are offered for the welfare of man but they run back to Him without becoming less  in his poem, ‘Thy Gifts’ and rightly puts it, 

               “From the words of the poet men take

               what meanings please them; yet their last

               meaning points to thee.”                                                           (Gitanjali, Poem: 75)

Poetry is the result of imagination from the mind of a poet when he beholds the sight of beautiful daffodils or the dance of a peacock, a scene of bloodshed or listens to the song of a nightingale that recalls something delightful or sorrowful to his heart; the wreck of a ship, or any other moving incident. It rises from the mind as a response in the form of imagination to get transformed only to be appealing to the heart of a reader. The poet is the creator of a poem like deity and the reader is like the devotee in the process of reading like that of devotion or adoration.  Milton has the specific purpose of definite goal, the attitude of the Task-Master as he presents,

               “As ever in my great Task-master’s eye”                                   (The siren’s Song, 7)   

Poets have different modes of expressions to vary one from the other but all their poems—long or short, aim at the sole goal of poetry. Their reflections are various but their expressions flow from the sole channel of poetry for the definite goal. 

Life and Poetry:

Life is also defined in different ways but not in a definite way.  It is indefinable like poetry. Poetry and life are therefore beyond the scope of their definitions. Life has all joys and sorrows, ebbs and tides, ups and downs, tears and smiles, etc., to be away from boundaries of its definite definition. Poetry is the most befitting medium for the portrayal of life. All ideas, experiences, feelings, etc arise in life are transformed and transmuted into beautiful poetry by virtue of imagination born in the poet’s mind and grown in the poetic process to result in a beautiful poem as the rough caterpillar transforms into the pretty butterfly in the natural process. It is the stethoscope to hear the heart-throbs of the poet or the lens through which we watch the picture of life in the mirror of poetry, the most suitable genre.  Lord Krishna expresses his message through the Gita when humanity at the verge of colossal human loss and the hour of fatality is flagrant to the physical eye.

The heart with overwhelming joy knows how to reflect in the hues of poetry. The soul with woes and throes is pretty aware of the tears, needs the medium of poetry for its expression in snapshot details. Anger coming from the heart of a person, deprived of deserving privileges and suitable opportunities vested in the hands of the selfish to offer, erupts from the heart like lava from a burning volcano. Parching throats and deepening hungers; deprivations and discriminations; etc have their expression from aching hearts and crying souls of creative minds. Joys are also expressed in equal spirits through the medium of poetry as delightfully as the flower blossoms.  It subsumes all kinds of feelings, emotions, experiences, dreams, thoughts, etc. that have a suitable expression through it. All these are viewed, felt, heard or experienced to the fullest extent in the kaleidoscope of poetry.

Poetry Knows No Boundaries:

Poetry is universal and philosophical rather than individual and historical as it originates from imagination to reflect higher truths and higher realities. It is not confined to any region, any age, any idea, any faith, or any ism or anything specific. It may be subjective or objective but aims at a definite goal. It is not outdated nor is it updated as it is universal in its exquisite expression of universal ideas and frank exposition of permanent values for universal appeal. It has the aesthetic goal of its own for the audiences for ever as Keats opines, ‘A thing of beauty is a joy for ever’. The beauty of poetry is a glory for ever as it is full of lessons on virtues and sermons on values for the reader. It is not confined to any ism which of course is not its criterion. It welcomes all facts of life in the fidelity of expressions.  These are the facts that leave it indefinable.               

Poetry Is Unlike All Others:

Poetry in variety and diversity marks no exact or correct definition and no limit to its genuine expressions. Though it was, is or will be written all over the world, it is one but poets are many and poems are infinite with different forms and dictions to express different subjects. They have their own ways of feeling-expressions and word-utterances but they abide by the laws of poetry which is the expression of emotions and passions by and large. It is not the rainbow that has only seven pretty colors to expose seven hues of expressions and exhibit its wonders to be a rare spectacle that falls inferior to poetry as it is the rainbow of infinite colors to express infinite ideas to be far greater for expressions. If I feel privilege to define it, I can define it as the rainbow of infinite colors; a bower of flowers with multi-petals and lots of varieties of fragrance or a multi-sided weapon to aim at different goals. It is words arranged in a systematic way to express the feelings of the poet to share his feelings with his audience and so on in the language of the reader. I, as a lover of poetry, define it from my point of view as follows:

“Every poet lets us listen to his heart-throbs for our heart-responses. It is his       primary goal and bounden responsibility to describe events, incidents, experiences, dilemmas, problems, etc that he glimpses and witnesses in life. Poetry is his medium and spectrum he expresses through, and weapon and organ he fights with for the aimed reforms and desired solutions. It rises from the reality and the actuality of life in the way the plant rises from the ground of truths to bloom the flowers of facts.”                 (Language, Literature and Culture, 54-67)

It is sometimes a source for pleasures, sometimes an avenue for fears but has the aesthetic goal of its own for satisfaction on the part of the reader. It has multisided functions for multidimensional effects. The key ones of poetry aim at are bloom-like evolution and bomb-like revolution.  We should all mind that poetry is therefore beyond the scope of defining it in an exact or correct manner. Different definitions in use, as poets and critics defined in the past, are defining now and will define in the future in different ways in different ages and places. Other genres have exact definitions and mark a clear-cut difference from poetry. The differences in poetry are so diverse and its definitions are so varied but it is a whole and the one to represent human emotions by means of word-expressions, thought-interpretations and sound-modulations. It cannot be confined to limits: size, time, space, mood, or anything nor can it be defined in a way alone. The Paradise Lost and The Mahabharata are poems to run to pages and pages to be bulky enough but they are for pleasure. There is no size-limit and time-limit for a poem to be completed in one sitting. No such limits are imposed to it as the valid are portrayed in it. So, it is not to record events like history to state what has happened. Poetry is to reflect what should happen. It is not science to have a specific definition nor is it mathematics to say two plus two is four. Of course, sciences express realities as they are but it, in its modified fancy, expresses higher realities and broader outlooks for the enlightenment of the reader. So it has a goal higher than sciences for they mark limits.

Poetry and Effects:

Poetry is the amalgamation of views to reflect the synthesis of inklings that occur in the mind of a poet for a spontaneous expression. It is a solo or duet or chorus or something else of diverse rhythms to move the heart of a listener or reader and teach him or her higher truths. It is a multi-sided weapon for a reform or correction. It is a garden with different kinds of flowers to offer perfumes in variety. It is lava to burn vices and a bullet to shoot the vicious enabling the virtuous to lull in the swing of peace. It is a vehicle for the poets for their aesthetic communication to the audience. It is glory never to diminish or vanish but to flourish and cherish as long as man lives in emotions, feelings, ideas, experiences, etc. It is not a series of ideas to be abstractive but to be constructive as it has powers to effect on the aimed lines. It is always alive and can at any cost survive in its glory and glitter, flair and fervor, lessons and sermons, sense and essence all concomitant to be important in the life of man.

Silent and Open Expressions:

A word articulated by mouth is the microcosm of expression through the macrocosm of poetry. It reveals an idea, advice, instruction or something else for the response of the listener’s mind. Poetry is therefore has a series of responses and reactions in the process of experiencing by listening or reading. In the same way by viewing and smelling, the human mind can have feelings in the form of responses at the sight or smell of a flower or any object of nature. The eyes also express different kinds of feelings by means of their contact. The raising of eye-brows reflects the sense of wonder. Gestures and postures have ideas to express, and facts to confess. A hen expresses fear or anxiety in protecting its chicks at the sight of a kite or an eagle. All these are silent poetic expressions of the thoughts in mind for response. The flute or lute conveys a thought   without a word. Similarly different tunes constitute music. It can therefore be conveyed by sound-utterances and facial expressions. The objective of poetry is the most effective silent or voiced expression of thoughts, emotions, and so on in the form of word-clusters in rhythmic expressions, rather than the dialogues of dramas or novels. 

Main Types and Parts of Poetry:

Poetry mainly exhibits either of the two facets: subjective or personal to express the poet’s own experiences in odes, elegies, sonnets, etc, or objective or impersonal poetry to deal with the events taking place around, with less reference to his personal matters in the narratives like stories in verse, ballads, epics, idylls, etc. It has the two essential components: form and structure; content and sound which are complementary to each other as the one enriches the other. It employs the sound and the sense as the sound echoes the sense, for its chief objective is the aesthetic pleasure the reader loves most as his poetic goal.  

Poetry, Prose and Drama:

Poetry, prose and drama are the three major forms of every literature. The drama welcomes poetry to it apart from dialogues in prose for a greater effect. They are therefore interrelated. Poetry is more effective than the other forms as it has all their characteristics in it for its effective ways of expression to mark unique and distinctive in its stature. It is altogether for higher values. It is primarily connotative unlike prose and drama and is different from sciences that are denotative.

Poets and Critics; Definitions and Subjects:

Through passing ages, poetry has been composed by different poets in different ages to mark infinite variety. When I talk of poetry, we talk of different isms: classicism, Puritanism, neo-classicism, metaphysics, romanticism, Victorianism, modernism, surrealism, post-modernism, realism, etc as poetry in the ages has been found aiming at different trends. They have their own isms and unique ideas to be transformed and transmuted through the antenna of poetry. They have had different trends or approaches: general approach, sociological approach, psychological approach, formalist approach, archetypal approach, etc to portray their emotions and passions. It employs words, diction, language, image, meter, tone, theme, etc to enrich its expression. Different poets form the Anglo-Normans to the present day and critics from Plato to that today have defined it in different ways but they are inadequate to reflect the true essence of poetry. I totally agree to Philip Larkin’s comments on poetry:

“I write poems to preserve things I have seen/thought/felt (if I may say indicate a composite experience) both for myself and for others, though I feel that my prime responsibility in the experience itself which I am trying to keep from oblivion for its own sake. Why I should do this, I have no idea, but I think the impulse to preserve at the bottom of all art.”                      

Essential Factors of Poetry:       

All such definitions of poets and critics cannot justify the definition of poetry and its scope. Poetry in general is never defined as it is not confined to the limits of its definition. The essence of imaginative and emotional substance is the nucleus of poetry.  There are other essential parts to enrich its beauty for its full blossom and all perfume for the enjoyment of the reader. The diction with the choice of apt words in metrical and syntactical devices, adds beauty to poetry. Its sounds must echo the sense by its rhythmical and musical effects. The felicity and beauty of expressions also depends on the employment of figures of speech like simile, metaphor, personification, irony, alliteration, hyperbole, pathetic fallacy, etc.  There may be any meter, any verse, any rhythm, any style or anything else in poetry but it solely aims at an imaginative or emotive expression as all roads lead to Rome.

Poetry, a Living River

Poetry lives in the moving expression of feelings, ideas, inklings, etc through the poet. It reflects in newspaper headlines, sub-titles and titles, maxims, dictums, quotations, slogans, emotional utterances, etc. It echoes from the oasis-expression of fulfillment, the joy-jubilation of achievement, the tear-emotion of bereavement and so on. It flows from imaginative, emotive and creative minds in flowing ideas for moving expressions to the audience. It is the living river of the ideas to flow from the mind to the senses through the mouth-piece of the poet.              

                                                                                                    TRIVENI

                                                                                                    Vol.: 83.  Jul-Sept. 2014 No.3

Hell of Earth or Earth of Hell

God quietly settles in heaven

After His fabulous creation

Of earth for the humans

Of hell for the demons

With His message to man

To build a heaven on earth            

To be against, and protest Satan

For all men, welfare and mirth

For ages man has well-grown

To create a robot for his own

For all comforts sans efforts

With neither toil nor turmoil

For a travel without travails

With Satan as his companion,

The Divine’s chief rebellion

Whose whole and sole mission:

‘Heaven of hell; hell of heaven’

For provocation and pollution

Of man’s mind in retaliation   

Man born of God’s creation

Grown in ever disobedience

For over luxuries and affluence

For selfish interests and goals

As a sign of wonderful powers

To mark his powerful wonders

And his series of disobediences                                                                                                

In the courts with his deaf ears

In the places with his tight-lips

In the seats with his cold actions

In the hands with his atom bombs

To settle in his crown as a tyrant

In a shrine with his reign constant

Fellow-beings to obey his powers

To nod their heads for false truths

To shake their hands for evil ties

On earth of hell or in hell of earth;              

Published in The Anthology 'The Dance of the Peacock', Canada - 2014.

239

THRALL

Something glides past from mysterious realms

             Shown in charming flowers

                 Shone in flying colors

As seen from the days of lamb-like innocence

   The future in lures slides into the present.

All, to man’s witness, is beyond expectations

           Fades the charms of blossoms                                                     

            Evades the glories of dreams

Happens by surprise here at the spur of the moment

        The transient present turns into the past

The past, cud to be chewed in the interior horizon

            Emotions of embittered hearts

            Experiences in shattered dreams

Clings for spasm whether reluctant or be an aspirant

         As milestones in man’s life-expedition

It’s time: the future, the present and the past

          That wakes man to its wonders

             Its display of infinite powers

For its enlightenment to man in its move eternal             

           As its life-long inevitable thrall

Published in Indian English Anthology, The Dance of the Peacock, Canada. 2014.

Published in TRIVENI Journal.

146

TWILIGHTS

Birds in gaiety keep their dear little ones

        Warm under their soft feathers

In nights, between twilights, during snow-fall

       Till sun-rays peep into their cozy nests

They rise to sing in twilight before sunrise

        On the prospective risks in broad day-light,

In the safe-existence of their baby-birds

        And in their blissful return at sunset

All parasites like snakes have all hungers

        Only to swallow their newly born ones,

Sprinkling seeds for them to glance, hunters

        Secretly spread nets and watch to catch

Fluttering back to nests for glowing glance

         Of their young ones to coo in full delights

Indeed the happiest moment in their daily lives

         A tension to be faced between twilights              

Published in Indian English Anthology The Dance of the Peacock, Canada     
153
 

Gifts of Nature

      The sun is found in its endless movement

   All around the earth with the award of its light

To all creatures alike without any selfish motives           

                Without the goal of its own

        A river flows long purling and purling

    For the supply of water to all fields for growth

And to all beings for life in all places at all moments

                Without the goal of its own

        A tree grows high with branches far and wide 

      For its cool shade, sweet fruits and all its beauties

  As free gifts for the inexhaustible pleasure of all beings

                   With no goal of its own

           

        The earth with its wonderful nature all around

      With its rich sights and sounds: the high treasures

  All to fill the sunshine of peace and exhilaration for all 

                  With no due goal of its own

          The air, life of all blowing in all directions

       All around the earth and leaving space far high,

    Presents fragrance for the pleasure of all lives as well

                    With no goal of its own

        God’s supreme creation, the best of all species

       Enjoys His gifts of gaiety but forgets to sacrifice

    And never to create a paradise in favor of God’s will

                      With a goal of his own 

Published in Indian English Anthology, The Dance of the Peacock, Canada - 2014.

POETRY FOR REFORM: SUSHEEL KUMAR SHARMA’S - “THE DOOR IS HALF OPEN”

Every poet lets us listen to his heart-throbs for our heart-responses. It is his primary goal and bounden responsibility to describe events, incidents, experiences, dilemmas, problems, etc that he glimpses and witnesses in life. Poetry is his medium and spectrum he expresses through, and weapon and organ he fights with for the aimed reforms and desired solutions. It rises from the reality and the actuality of life in the way the plant rises from the ground of truths to bloom the flowers of facts. Prof. Susheel Kumar Sharma employs it with dexterity and perfection to mirror his feelings, ideas and observations in life.

Prof. Sharma starts his collection of poems, “The Door Is Half Open” with the crest-like poem, ‘Ganga Mata- A prayer.’ The poem marks epic-like statures and characteristics. Its central and pivotal character, the river Ganges is prayed and portrayed in the manner of invocation:

                     O Ganges!

                     The dweller in Lord Brahma’s kamandala

                     The abider in Lord Vishnu’s feet

                     The resider of Lord Shiva’s locks

                      …             …            …         …

                     The mother of brave Bhishma

                     O Ganga Maiya!

                     Homage to thee.

                     Accept my obeisance

                     O Punyakirti!

                      …             …              …        …

                     I want to sing your praise

                     Like a tortoise in your water

                     I want to play in your lap

                     Like a dolphin in your floods

                    …              …            …           …

                     In an island created by you.

The invocation is so elaborate that it echoes his ardent adoration and deep devotion to the sacred and holy river Ganges:

                    I am told

                    On the confluence, though vast,

                    No bathing ghat can be had

                    You keep changing your appearance—

                    Thousands you have in a day.

The character of Ganga Mata is a deity to be visited and the Almighty to be worshipped by Mainaka who ‘comes daily to have/Your darshana and a holy dip’. The poet identifies with the deity, ‘I just want to live and die by you’. He glimpses her by his heart:

                    When I stand here

                    To have your darshana

                    I see only white and green waves

                    Piercing into each other.

In the praise of the divine features and heroic stature of the deity with infinite synonyms and epithets: ‘Adhvaga’, ‘Alakananda’,  Amar Sarita’, ‘Gayatri’, ‘Nandini’,‘Jahnavi’, ‘Purna’, ‘Punya kirti’, ‘Punya’, Mandakini, ‘Pavani’, etc. He extols highly about her long heroic journey ‘annual pilgrimage’ which is ‘Like light into darkness/ In a cloudy sky’.

He further recognizes and reveres the Ganges for her free flow and gay dance:

                    Flow freely again

                    Over flow again

                    Dance rhythmically again

                    Be not bound by embarkments and dams.

For him, the Ganges is Ganga Mata, the Almighty and the Benefactor and she is mighty in flow and benevolent in actions. He addresses her:

                   You silently

                   Crush stones and push sand under

                   Your gorgeous feet

                   To help man raise

                    Buildings to touch the sky.

The river on its annual pilgrimage flows in its own pace and course and helps flora and fauna as described by Tagore in his poem, ‘Thy Gifts’. Prof. Sharma portrays the action of the river in ‘Rivers’: ‘A river cools/The Scorched earth/ By laying her arms around it.’ The poem is full of Sanskrit expressions and quotations; synonyms and epithets to mark the grand style of Latin expressions of the epic. The similes he uses are very apt for vivid descriptions:

                      I want to sing your praise

                      Like a tortoise in your water

                      I want to play in your lap

                      Like a dolphin in your floods.

Prof. Sharma enriches his poem to be a poem par excellence by describing rituals like Havan, a purifying ritual and fire ceremony; Holi, a spring festival; Magha, a festival for the saints to participate in from various parts in the month of Magha; ‘langar’, a community meal for all to dine together irrespective of any social barrier and reflect the sense of humanity for oneness of mankind.

The poem ‘Ganga Mata, A prayer’ stands flawless, for it entails moralistic approaches to redeem the woes and throes of mankind with the sacred waves of the Ganges by insisting on Shantih in the realm of humanity:

                       I want the world

                       To be rid of corruption

                       I want the world

                       To be rid of pollution

                       I want the world

                       To be rid of degeneration.

                       I want the world

                      To be a home for all

                       I want the world

                      To be a wonder for all.                                       

The poet feels agony at the degradation of virtues and degeneration of values: ‘The wonder that was India’ with ‘freedom’, ‘humanity’, ‘prosperity’, ‘liberty’, ‘equality’, ‘fraternity’, etc. Now they are obviously absent and conspicuously missing against the wishes of the poet. He shares his feelings with the deity, Gang Mata in the form of questions in infinite:

                        Are you testing the patience of man?

                        Are you displaying your displeasure,

                        O Kirati?

                        How can a mother be so cruel

                        O Adrija?   

As stated by Jawaharlal Nehru in his Discovery of India, ‘The Ganges… has held India’s heart captive...’ As a poet of conviction and man of patriotism, Prof. expresses his poignant desire for the revival of the past glory, ‘to be wonder for all’. He firmly believes that Ganga Mata is not just the Ganges but the symbol and the incarnation of Bharat Mata:

                        I just want my Ganga

                        To be my Ganga.

                        …        …       …

                        Yes, India is one!

                         United we stand,

                         Divided we fall.

Prof. Sharma is a humanist in general and a patriot in particular. He wants to ‘see the world/ To be a home for all’. The poem, ‘Shattered Dreams’ (12) reflects that he nourishes aims and cherishes dreams to be fulfilled but does not want them shattered or crumbled down:

                         My imagination came falling down

                         Like the World Trade Centre”   

As an adorer of Ganga Mata with her course, he wishes her not to change her splendor and wonder; power and bower; flow and glow, name and fame, etc. He finds changes against his wishes and addresses her with his deep feelings:

                        O Adhvaga

                        I find you feeble like a spine.

                        …        …        …        …

                        Your curing power seems to have failed

                        Your life giving force seems to have dried.

He further puts forth his unbearable anguish before her a long series of questions on the lapses against his wishes:

                        Where is your ravine?

                        Where have the rabbits gone?

                           …        …       …

                        Have you tolerated it all, O Saritamvara?

As a poet and man, he wants to see his homeland in the unrivalled position and unmatched glory. He cannot think of any decline and downfall of values and virtues but he witnesses blemishes like corruption, pollution and degeneration. His earnest wish is to see his mother land free form such evils. In ‘A Poem for My Country’, he has clear-cut reflections about India: ‘The land offers you a sight of your choice--’; and Indians: ‘Believers of Various faiths/ Users of so many tongues… But a mantra/ practiced by one and all.’ Another poem entitled ‘Democracy: Old and New’ presents the real picture of democracy in the mood of displeasure of the poet as it fails to bring about progress in terms of liberty, equality and fraternity and goes contrary to the concept of democracy:

                          ‘Fraternity’ is a foul word.

                            Dreams become day-dreams.

                            Promises sound hollow.

                            Future evaporates into skies.

Apart from the themes of devotion to humanity and adoration of Ganga Mata and Bharat Mata, Prof. Sharma further delineates a rich variety of themes: divinity, life, time, love, nature, autobiographical element, the life around and so on. His poetry is at once universal and individual for his themes are varied.

Prof. Sharma firmly believes in God for His miracles and wonders and deeply loves flora and fauna, His beautiful creations. He admits that God is the Creator and is responsible for the wonders in nature:

                           Leaves are varied

                           They have different hues                 

                           And shapes and sizes

                           Like men they reveal God’s plenty.               ‘Colours’

                             …         …         …        …

                           If I love you

                           I love you for God’s sake

                           He is your creator

                          And a perennial source of eternal love.         ‘O Beloved’

For poets, life is the theme of themes and the nucleus subject of their poetry. Time, in its incessant movement, turns life mortal. Life passes form birth through the stage of growth to culminate ultimately in death which is the most inevitable fact of life:

                          The living ones too behave

                           Like the dead                                                     ‘From Left to Right’

In the wake of birth, life goes ahead as ‘A toddler in a mother’s lap’ and grows to youth, adulthood, manhood and to old age but realizes, ‘It’s a joy to be young’ but ‘It’s is a joy for the old’. Life in reality is for—

                           No rewinding, no fast forward

                           No playing the fool around.                               ‘Tiny Tot’

                          

                           What turns grey

                           Cannot turn black.                                            ‘Passing By’

The poet describes in ‘Granny’ the old age of his granny, ‘who lost her eye sight’ and suffered from arthritis. In time, what is young and charming will definitely become old and surely fade, carving wrinkles on the face and graying the black hair:

                           They will vanish one day

                           One by one and will also turn silvery white.

                            …         …        …        …

                           They will dry with passing time

                           And lose their luster with a changed emotion.      ‘O Beloved’

Time in its constant flux, represented by the sun and the moon, turns man old making many changes against his wishes:

                          The scorching sun has turned my

                           Hair grey;

                           It attacked the head first

                           Now the entire body is its target.                         ‘Passing By’

Life turns not only ephemeral but also futile in the disruptive forces of time and it is an undeniable fact, open truth and bare reality. Dreams in the realm of facts shatter and make man rise to realize the futility of life:

 

                          I had built castles of my dreams

                          On the sand dunes of a desert.                         ‘Shattered Dreams’

Man resorts to the futile exercises to evade the futility of life and find remedies:

                          I got out to the dream of down stream

                          Where I throw in eternal sleep

                         To awake floating on a fresh dream.                  ‘Dwellings’

Prof. Sharma loves humanity as a humanist. He observes the sufferings of his fellow beings and makes the readers share those feelings. He records the incidents and the happenings in society as he has commitment towards poetry. He wishes the due punishment given to wrong doers and sinners and feels sorry for the helplessness of invisible gods in this regard:

                          Like a helpless woman

                          Gang raped unconsciously again and again

                          Loses her natural vision

                          Just stares into the black sky above—

                          Perhaps praying to the invisible gods

                         To send some bolt

                         (Which never comes)

                         To identify and punish

                         The guilty.                                                          ‘Agony’

As a man of humanity, he feels pity on a pretty, gay butterfly when it was found crushed on a table:

                           O butterfly

                           Reminded me of the beauty of the innocent girls

                           Going to school on the reopening day

                           The enchanted patterns of design on your body.

                            …        …        …       …

                           Alas, the laughter has gone

                           The spark has gone

                           The chance of another Adam

                            Being tempted has withered.                        ‘Agony’

Like Wordsworth, Prof. Sharma is a lover of nature. His nature descriptions are so graphic and vivid that his readers share his sheer joys on his visit to nature. The poem, ‘In The Lap of Nature’ reflects his love for nature and expresses how he gets engrossed into the beauty of ‘starry night’ that draws ‘the craving moon’ into the drawing room for his bliss:

                             I hold on—

                             Stretch my arms

                             To bring you to my folds.

                             …      ...      …        …

                             I remain absent

                             I have to defy the law of gravity

                             To kiss you on your forehead

                             And make you sit in my pearls before you

                             I have to cast my pearls before you

                             And weave my dreams around you

                             To be away from the frigid earth.

To have bliss, he goes to the realm of fancy with the contact of nature:

                              Suddenly, I entered a cloud,

                              My joy knew no bounds;

                              I was enveloped by purest of vapours

                              Soon I was seen rushing towards the sky

                              Eager to touch the Sun.

In ‘Mirage’, he expresses his special attraction and liking for the moon. He wants to go to its beauty to quench his thirst:

                             The heaven is not to be polluted

                             With your odours.

                             Your dust

                              Doesn’t match the dust there.

                              …    …     …     …      …

                             You’ve to be taken to the moon

                             To quench your thirst

                              In the heavenly abode.

Prof. Sharma reads the cyclic pattern of wearing leaves by trees in spring and studies animal and plant nature in terms of human nature in a satirical way. The ant, the tree, the cow, the grain, etc serve mankind and prove to be far superior to man:

                              The ant—

                              A small one, black in colour,

                              A microgram in weight

                              Runs at a speed

                              High than that of a jet,

                              …       …      …      …

                              The tree—

                              Huge in size, that

                              Sheds its leaves

                              Sprouts again this spring

                              To provide shelter to the

                              Homeless birds,

                          

                             The cow—

                              Indian in size, Red in colour

                              Heavy in white udders

                             

                             The grain—

                             Minor in size, unimportant in colour

                             Less than a gram or two in weight

                             Sprouts to make a field green

                             To feed the hungry.                              ‘Gifts’

Natural objects like flowers, butterflies, the sun, the moon and the cloud leave the poet attracted to their beauties in bounty: The dancing of ‘yellow leaves’ on the trees fills his heart with joy:

                              The sight was captivating

                              As your colours and the backdrop of the flowerbed

                              Presented to my mind what

                              Must have been the Garden of Eden      ‘Colours’

As a poet and man, he shares the tears like sorrows of the butterfly in quest of beauty and in thirst for honey from flowers. When it is crushed, its beauties are lost:

                               The chance of another Adam

                               Being tempted has withered.               ‘Colours’

Like AK Ramanujan and Kamaladas, Prof. Sharma portrays his autobiographical element to express his whims and fancies; sentiments and feelings; memories and recollections; doubts and dilemmas; realizations and confessions; isolation and association; tears and smiles, etc. He refers to his relations and their traits and temperaments. In ‘Dilemma’ the portrayal of his great grand father and his grand father who was raised to a rich position like a prince and his father who was not being raised as per his father’s wish:

                              People hated my grandpa

                              For his held his head high.

                            …          …        …       …

                              The most interesting ones were about

                               His own self and his father.

                                …         …           …        …                              

                               About my father

                               Who couldn’t be raised

                               As should have been--

                               Holding his head high

                               Despite being poor.                            ‘Dilemma’

He describes his own sulking nature in ‘Camouflage’, his daughter and son for not looking alike in ‘Inquisitiveness’ and his son who ‘used to/ Soil the mattress/ But you never minded it’ in ‘Memories’  like AK Ramanujan’s bed wetting grand son in his poem ‘Obituary’. He presents the picture of the house he lived in:

                                I have started

                                Living in the home of despair

                                For the house of hopes has been shattered

                                By volleys of jealousy.             ‘Dwellings’

He ascribes this state to the cobwebs of enemies, dangerous curses of holy men, etc. The memories are connected and related to his house and penury-stricken family, ‘ancestral house’, his breakfast and his ‘arousing anger’ due to blood pressure on some occasions:

                                The tree of money sheds its leaves

                                 For Autumn had come

                                 But spring could not.             ‘Dwellings’

                               

                                Today I’ve seen a brick come out of the wall

                                 In the ancestral house in the ancestral street.

                                 I tried to fix it without cement but it came out--

                                 I somehow saved my foot from being hurt.   ‘Granny’

                                I salt my breakfast with tears

                                That ooze on the peeling of memories

                              

                                When the butter of praise

                                Fails to soothe me.                      ‘Dwellings’  

                                My blood pressure shot up

                                And I lost my vision.

                                …        …         …

                                Think of me

                                How miserably I spent

                                My days and nights

                                Without you and the world around!                      ‘A Wish’

The poet conveys his ultimate advice and confesses his heart-felt feelings to the readers to—

                               Let your days with

                               Those around be

                               Peaceful, harmonious and soothing!    ‘A Wish’

Prof. Sharma, as a poet and man, has sensitivity to human suffering and states that man should be in quest of goals to be away from the jungle, to quench thirst, to satiate hunger and to rescue a drowning child into a river, etc. He feels that eradication of poverty is a must as narrated in ‘Poverty: Some Scenes.’ For him, the sight of the people in penury is the most agonizing scene:

                                When somebody opens the tiffin-box

                                And someone else just stares at it

                                With a hope of one morsel in one’s mouth.

In the society today, the suicides of brides are quite common as a blemish on the part of society. Brides are welcome in the wedding not to be killed. They are meant for the joy of life and the perpetuation of the race:

                                A bride belongs to a groom

                                She is a flute to be played on

                                She is a harmonium to produce a rhythm

                                She is a synthesizer to modulate a discordant note

                                She is a tune of a young heart,

                                Full of music and meaning,

.                               Signifying harmony.                 ‘For a Bride Who Thinks of Suicide’

The poem, ‘Agony’ reflects his appeal to people to rescue a woman from being raped, a bird from being caged, a small girl to be helped to hold her pen, etc. He cries hoarsely for his helplessness in the eradicating of the evils today. The feelings he has are inexplicable:

                                The poet is crying for words,

                                Clad in unblemished white

                                 Saraswathi does not oblige.

                                 She is busy rising a golden peacock.          ‘Agony’

As a poet he feels sorry in ‘Purgation’ for ‘Swelling problems on and on, all around’ and appeals to the humanity to—

                                Be your own Buddha

                                Be your enlightened soul

                                To realize the reality

                                And to shun

                                Whatever is false.      ‘Hope Is the Last Thing to Be Lost’

                

He wishes to be amid people with no social barriers: colour, caste, creed, age, sex, culture, -isms and ages. He wants an ideal society to be established for the oneness of mankind, freedom from corruption, pollution and degeneration to enjoy the wonder of humanity. He has the vision of reviving the culture and the heritage of India’s past for the mission of establishing peace.

Prof. Susheel Kumar Sharma deserves encomiums for his wide ranging themes dealing with life in general and the life around in particular, in his book entitled The Door Is Half Open. He portrays the themes in snapshot details and presents them to the readers to share his feelings like WH Auden and other Leftist writers and by the use of ‘you’, the readers. He would have used ‘we’ like Philip Larkin and other Movement Poets to share his views to the readers and the poet, himself. The titles of all poems are very apt, appropriate and relevant to echo the subject contrary to the title of the volume. The title ‘The Door Is Haft Open’ is suggestive of the opinion that he is shutting of the door from the back with a view to allowing no evil to enter or he is opening it wide to welcome all values and virtues to his homeland for the revival of wonders and splendors of the past. As a poet of devotion and man of conviction, he craves for perfection in his motherland and the world, ‘a wonder for all’.           

Published in Yking Concise Encyclopaedia of ‘Language, Literature and Culture’ - 2014