Sonali reviews Mini Babu’s poetry collection, Memory Cells. An exclusive for Different Truths. 

“The essence of poetry comes from the stress of the soul-vision behind the word, it is the spiritual excitement of a rhythmic voyage of self-discovery among the magic islands of form and name in these inner and outer worlds,” stated Rishi Aurobindo.    

Memory Cells by Mini Babu made me wander around her poetry in search of treasure. I voyaged the magic islands of form, soul-vision, self-discovery, one after another of such a book of poems. I was on cloud nine.  

To be honest, each turn towards life’s different shades, its introspection and self-discovery reminded me of the great knowledge that we find in our age-old epics.  

Her poems illustrate and illuminate in a different way. These deal with life, death, eternal dictum, our learning and scholastic philosophy of Vedas and Puranas. Multilayered, these goaded me to unfold each layer like the opening of a flower bud.   

Mini Babu doesn’t consider herself a contemporary poet. Unlike others, she doesn’t live a poet’s life. She breaks the obstacles and flies with her imaginary wings. Her each flight simply blooms into a poem. Each seed that she sows in faraway distant land, breaks the earth’s surface to hold the head high to touch the glow of verse.  

Even in her prayers, she murmurs the hymns of poetry. Her divine submission to her Almighty binds the Lord and the devotee in love. Here remains her aesthetic unmatched philosophy and her path breaking style of penning her self-discovery.  

In her poem, Loneliness, she personifies it with her sheer brilliance, she writes, “Loneliness adopts you as a sibling, on chancing that you are without one, she clasps your hands,

and masks you with solitude.” The eternity of loneliness is profoundly showcased by her sheer poetic ecstasy.  

In another way, she enters a woman’s heart. Her pen bleeds:

I know you bury 
The poems of yesterdays,
and spell one for today 
I know your defiance 
to spell one for tomorrow.  

In this poem, she concludes:

All the same
I know you
For the reason that 
I know you
I love you

From the core of a woman, sheer love is birthed. She magically explains just in a few words.  

A rebel’s pen is witnessed, in the poem, In Case, as a Woman: 

you are hindered, 
from looking unbent,
swing around, 
and look up at the skies,
at night,
there is universe open up 
to you, consider,
the moon and stars,
face up
in each other’s presence 

It reminded me of the rebellious pen of Kamala Das:    

Cowering 
beneath your monstrous ego ate 
the magic loaf and
became a dwarf, lost my will and reason,
to all your 
questions I mumbled incoherent replies
In the swamp she regrets I am a puppet 
on his string and avers:
I must act the role of happy woman 
Happy wife 

Mini’s poem, In Case, as a Woman, echoes the same sentiments.  

We read so many poets. I’d like to mention some, specially whom I love to read, Sylvia Plath, Mary Oliver, Louise Gluck, Emily Dickinson, Maya Angelou. I have my reasons for reading the powerful poems of Mini Babu. With utter intensity and dedication, her poetic euphoria is realised in each poem. 

Her poems are not merely written to be read. Rather these make us confront several questions. She doesn’t answer the questions. She leads her readers to find those. Each poem denotes several rainbows in their delicacies.  

Cover photo sourced by the reviewer

Sonali Chanda

Sonali Chanda is an eminent poet and writer. Born in suburban Kolkata, she completed her post graduation from Burdwan University. Her recent travelogue is under publication, where she showcased the most sensitive areas in Ladakh and Kashmir. She writes on different topics of burning issues in the country and the social malices. Recently her travelogue, Ladakh…En route Tibetan Taboos, was launched in Kolkata, in EZCC, Bharatiyam, Salt Lake.