Tuesday, January 3, 2023

WEALTH OF TREASURES

For sure, I can imagine never,

In time, the past is not past.

It is not lost ever,

It is not forgotten at a moment lost

Its pulse is at all hours felt,

Its throbs are ever heard,

Its scent is smelt,

It offers lessons on the re-life reward.


The past is in fact the base of future

It is the link with the present

Its life is not like that of a flower

For it fades away as an event

It is a series of events in mind storing

The nightingale’s song to evoke joys

As delightful events ever recalling

As the memoirs of choice.


The past embedded in the annuls of history,

Read and shone in the album of all pages

As memoirs to rise in the fountain of memory

All linger in life’s later stages:

All marital pleasures

All tender smiles of new-born babies

It is the wealth of life treasures,

As sonorities of cuds, charms of rubies.


Published

METVERSE MUSE

75th PLATINUM JUBLIEE ISSUE (January 2023)

DREAMS IN STREAMS

Future, once loadedwith many a dream,

The castles built in the air stream,

It leads one in life in time’s flow,

Like the seeds sown are to grow.

In anxieties and curiosities on hold,

Takes steps to arrive atone’s threshold

As present learns the bitter fact, truly real,

Dreams are imaginary, unreal,

But their experiences are real for visions.

Life is full of illusions

For it finds the dreams to shatter

Still life fills with new dreams to glitter

Like new bubbles rise for those swollen

Like new leaves in place of those fallen

To rise again for life is a flow

With upsurge of dreams in glow,

Dreams to dawn like bubbles to rise,

As a reality to surmise not a surprise

Though it is not welcome in life stream.

Life teaches the lesson of a dream:

Distant hills look green

All fade awaytheir sheen

All to disappear in time of when

In life to accept whatever happen

Life stores all experiences,

The dreams in consequences,

Rarely a sweet cud, often a bitter store

Life to time after all thrall to the core

Consistently and constantly moving

To remind us of it though unwilling

Life is a constant struggle

In time, past-present-futureentangle.


Published

METVERSE MUSE

75th PLATINUM JUBLIEE ISSUE (January 2023)

FLOWER’S LIFE WISH

I as a flower with its charms rare

With my life wish to be fair

And fresh on the stem forever.

Fading and falling never,

I love to gladden all by my treasure

All are for their sensuous pleasure,

I feast all by my sweet substance

Their thirsts as a golden chance.

Birds, insects, and all are my guests

In cool shade for their rests,

Birds are to sing in my sight,

Insects to hover round me in delight,

All poets sing in my praise,

Describing all my parts in craze,

I feel pride and honor

For all tend to offer their favor,

My petals excel the Rainbow

For my unrivalled show

I am the cynosure to all eyes in the Eden

All Adams and Eves love my garden.

Nature once glances me with all smiles

For my wish to glow for all miles,

Says that I am too pertinent

To be on the stem permanent

I am after all a thrall to time

For my life transient, sung in a chime:

I am to fade and fall as a flower

Aa a flower of life in my bower.

I fall to bear a child of unripe fruit,

That is all my life’s short route.


Published

METVERSE MUSE

75th PLATINUM JUBLIEE ISSUE (January 2023)


WARS CARVE SCARS

Wars resulted in colossal loss,

Sceneoftotal devastation.

All know this bitter reality,

Still wars are waged for destruction,

All species silent for killing gross.


The war culture shatters peace

It does not rise from killing arms,

It dawns from minds for obliteration,

The fading of whole life charms

To unlock the doors of death’s domain.


A nation is great for integration

Overall development and progress

Its strength is shown in stability

It lets no nation fall into transgress

If need be, it helps in cooperation.


The conqueror may feel great

When he conquers a weak nation

He pays deaf ear to yells and knells

Death-silence finds no cessation

For victory is not great at any rate.


War lessons are before the people

Victims and all know the loss well

Scars of wounds are their clear signs

Wars welcome not peace but hell

Against relations to grow in principle.


War is a symbol of death in darkness

Peace is life and light, signs of wisdom,

People love and revere in their hearts,

Annexing a nation to expand kingdom

Shows false ambition, swelling in sickness.


Published

METVERSE MUSE

75th PLATINUM JUBLIEE ISSUE (January 2023)


Love Is Emotion

Love is a natural emotion,
Born from the bottom of the heart,
A sign of insightful action,
Flawless and unblemished on man’s part.

Love is not present in the deliberate offer
Not in bribing an officer
Not in giving a gift expecting some favor
Not offering money to the voter.

In turn, love never expects anything,
Love is like that of the soil
To grow plants offering everything,
A selfless worker offers toil.

Mother feeds her child with care,
The hen tucks chicks for their protection,
The stars twinkle in the sky fair,
By its charms, the flower is for attraction.

The river is to look at parched throats,
The fruit tree is ready to fulfill hungers,
The cuckoo to thrill by its sweet notes,
At the sight of fellowmen smile lingers.

The patriot sacrifices his life for the nation,
The heart throbs for the rhythms of living,
The calf runs to the cow in affection,
Love is life in the art of loving.

Published
POETCRIT
Vol:36 No. 1 January-June 2023

Sunday, January 1, 2023

POETRY FOR REFORM

            Every poet lets us listen to his heartthrobs 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
Voices at the Door
Critical Responses to Susheel Kumar Sharma's
The Door is Half Open
UPANAYAN PUBLICATIONS-Delhi
First Edition 2023

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