An eAnthology of Poems on Durga

Nine women poets, Laksmisree Banerjee, Ipsita Ganguli, Lily Swarn, Ketaki Dutta, Deeya Dey Bhattacharya, Rituparna Khan, Rumpa Ghosh-Ray,  Suchismita Ghosal and Pratima Chaitanya have come together in this Mini eAnthology, celebrating the many aspects of the Goddess Durga. They see her in divine and human forms. An exclusive Special Feature for Different Truths.  

Mother: A Memory

Laksmisree Banerjee

From body to fire
From prayer to rejection
From devotion to immersion
From love to oblivion –
Each day I recall my source
Each day every Durga Puja
Your image, your canvases painted
With loving vibrancy
Then rubbed off into
Paper-thin, spectre-white
Watery shards of death.

Drums, Dholaks, Dhaks
Sing out the glories of
The Mother till the final day
Dressed in barren finery
Doomed to be pushed
Drowned into the woeful
Dashami of the Ganga.

Floating carcasses of brittle
Clay, straw, ruddy splinters,
Dismembered forms, bodies,
Her face, limbs now flotsam,
Speed down the raging river
Proclaiming with swansongs
Of conch shells, blooms, bells
The death of the Mother.

Fire and lambent water
Ritual and celestial fanfare
The circus filaments consume
All our deep bonds of love,
The last grey shreds of life
Dripping in tingling ache.

Our corpses of memory
We consign to the flames
Or vacuously enshrine in
Photos, urns or tombstones
Set aside for secret night-falls.

These unknown shadows
Of arrows in our faint minds
Cut across the breath of life,
The ozone fails, the fluid stops
The mirror cracks, shatters
To be thrown away with
The resumed humdrum,
As the last gasps of coma
Dwindle, putting our Mother
To sleep in the approaching
Evanescence of life.

Your Daily Durga

Ipsita Ganguli

I ask,
What do you do with your Daily Durga?
The one that birthed you?
The one that birthed your child?
The one that you helped birth?
Tell me,
Do you invoke her
In splendorous faith,
The way you invoke the Goddess…

When your Daily Durga comes home
Post her daily dose of dreary chores
Do you,
Ask her to put up her calloused feet
And pamper her with some hot tea,
Reciprocate the way she would greet,
When you come home?

When your daughter Durga
Comes to you, hassled by a predator’s self-inflicted
Patriarchal right of harassing her
Do you,
Tell her to be Chamunda and Chandi and Raktadantika?
For that is being Durga too,
Not just Lakshmi, not just Kamala…
Oh No.

For Durga is She
The Bhuvaneshwari
The Brahmacharini
The Kalaratri
All of this and more is She
Your Daily Durga
In every woman
For you to cherish
For you to invoke
For you to worship
Daily

Hey Triyambake!

Lily Swarn

Hey Triyambake, O three-eyed goddess!
Your left eye representing desire, symbolised by the moon
Your right eye pointing to action denoted by the sun
Your middle eye standing for knowledge, depicted by fire.

Astride the tiger in Abhay mudra
O Ye Fearless one!
Battling evil from each direction
O ye Multi limbed protective
mother!

Holding the sound of God in the Om of your conch shell
Firmness in your thunderbolt convictions
Kinetic and potential energy in your bow and arrows
The still closed bloom of lotus reminiscent of spiritual quest
Amidst the mud of greed and lust

Your spinning Sudarshan chakra keeping the world subservient
Knowledge gleaming in your shimmering sword
The Trident of Satva, Raja and Tama alleviating suffering

Let your devotees learn from you
O mighty goddess Shakti
O ye Durgatinashini
Let the female energy seep through you
Into each frail, timid, helpless girl
Let each abused woman make her tormentors shudder in fear
Just as you do O MA Chandi
O Chandraghanta of golden complexion and crescent moon
Teach all humans to slay evildoers as you do

A Humble Entreaty

Ketaki Datta

In a world afflicted with a virus
Raging all across,
Claiming lives,
We are looking up to you,
Oh Durga,
For a vaccine,
That would ward off
All ailments, all fear,
Make us come near,
Forgetting norms of
‘Distancing’,
Throwing life out of gear!

Oh mother, you are here,
But we can’t traipse out,
To greet you with a cheer,
We are confined at home,
We can’t even shout.

Oh Goddess, we are fallen on
Strange times,
With face covered, with mind
Forgetting the chanting chimes!
Oh Durga, cure us of the virus-demon
We’re tired of having ginger and lemon!
This year, we are debarred from
Having phuchka and eggroll,
What an oppression, what affliction,
We are in doubt of our role!

Next year, maybe we can
Go on pandal-hopping,
This year is a waste,
With our leaders, all-forbidding!
Yet, oh mother, let us pray
From the core of our heart,
Next year, you have to compensate,
Whatever we missed, being un-smart!
We love you, Goddess Durga, stay with us,
Fortify our will, let us emerge victorious!

Come Autumn, Come Kaashful

Deeya Dey Bhattacharya

A little girl from a corner of this world
Cries from hunger in a certain refugee
Camp where the bruised body of her mother lies molested

Rudrani mops the floors ceaselessly cleans the traces of dirt,
A household maid, couldn’t manage new clothes for her children,
Managing two square meals
A day is tough leave alone new clothes
She knows

How long these tools these slaveries
Continue to Grace the forehead of women
Asha, a brick kiln worker is pregnant
With a child from sleeping with the
Owner to manage meagre meals
For her family

Ma, Goddess of Kailash, are you listening
Do you feel shame to be the Second Sex?
Do you encourage infanticide
Are the girl children safe in your empowered arms the Dashabhuja
Come Ma, come to Earth to put an end to all
Let the earth awake in your celestial Bliss and destroy demons within us
Let the world heal and energize to transcend the evils
Shweta-shubhra-bosonodharini, Ma.

Fishbone

Rituparna Khan

Drums beat and beat and beat in the
heartbeats with hues of ecstasy.
Lights dazzle and dazzle and dazzle
every brightened nook and cranny.
Food delicacies and lovely apparels
get engrossed in a frame of festivity.
Fun, frolic and laughter arrives
swaying in the cradle of the Goddess.

At a little distance, a fishbone
is stuck inside the throat,
throttling breath of happiness.

In her tatters, my Durga stands there,
Awestruck in her world of darkness.

Emergence of Devi

Rumpa Ray-Ghosh

Every year when the luminous rays of bliss
Reflect from those two radiant eyes.

All the virtues are strengthened while
The souls get cleansed of vice.

The ambrosial eyes symbolise power and purity
Embracing humanity with their divine vibes.

Trees overloaded with fragrant shiuli invite autumn
The field of kaash overladen with cottony flowers glorifies.

Goddess emerges everywhere in diverse avatars
The feel of heavenly enthusiasm is on the rise.

We feel the holy power within
That empowers us to fight every demon that thrives.

The land is flooded with dazzling illumination
Arrival of the deity induces vitality into mundane lives.

The dark leaves of gloom wither away
Fresh flowers of gaiety revives.

Glamours of Devi Pujo

Suchismita Ghosal

Just around the corner of winter,
There stands a girl carrying
The pieces of autumn,
Playing the mellifluous tunes of Devi Maa.
There lies an entire world of tiny happiness,
An entire universe of redolent Nyctanthes arbor-tristis,
A cramming bowl of solace in the air
And a mind with all the captivating sights.
The girl, in her innocuous state of mind
Wanders through the verdant meadows
Draping white saree tinted with red brocade,
Tampering all the negativities in a go,
Staining the skies with positive colours,
Scattering pearls everywhere
And putting extra compassion in her pious prayers.
Devi maa- called as ‘Durga Maa’ appears
With the sanctity of untouched aura,
Saving us from the calamities in the spheres
Of natural, physical, and mental oddness
And her third eye knows the blessings she
Bestows upon us is no less than
The pathways towards heaven.
The gorgeous white catkins swing flawlessly
in the air
When Maa waves her fingertips effortlessly.
The maddening sound of Dhak,
The evergreen smell of Dhuno,
The huge footfalls on pandals,
The pounding heartbeats of every Bengali
And the vibrant colours of new dresses
Bring the ever-charming persona of ‘Devi Pujo’.
The charismatic mood would never be found,
The authentic feelings would never match with any other
And the proactive enthusiasm would never be
spotted anywhere but in West Bengal.
Just when Devi maa moistens our eyes
In the eve of Dashami,
The girl gets dusted away with the smile
As pure as water of Ganga
And keeps the treasure of promises to come again
For all the spells over our fragile mind to recover.
Everything that deciphers the purest beauty of nature,
‘Devi Pujo’ is one such thing
It nurtures every soul richer.

Our Dark Goddess

Pratima Chaitanya

Your black tanned skin,
black as the moonless night
contrasts our frenzy for an Ivory hue.
We lesser mortals of this man’s world
paint you azure–
they say
it’s better than the black tone.

You trampled the god of gods, the Mahadev*
under your feet in fiery rage,
and the same Rudra * famed for tandaving* in fury wild
laid down to stop your path to an inexhaustible kill,
when you marched in madness
with the inexorable lust for blood
to fill the parting of your hair with human vermilion.
Were you not labelled outrageous then?
Did you not, O Kali! in your ferocious form of fury
break the norms?
Did you not challenge your husband’s authority?
Did you not anticipate appeasement from the great Lord?
Did you not in your khadga* and wrath
display all traits of a masculine God
breathing within your feminine existence,
and complicated further more
the schism between sexes?

In wearing only the mundmala*
and leaving your breasts bare,
in the waistband of human hands
Tied around your thighs,
did you not open yourself to public gaze?
To the ogling, obnoxious eyes we face
And the hard stares which dissect your flesh?

When you a female form, O Kali
could stride ahead in shamshan* in the middle of night,
in your wildness, nakedness, madness, wrath,
Why then are we held guilty in following your path?
Why then this glow of fairness, this pardah* of docility, the sari of grace
only underline our virtuous state?
Why then are we disrespected, judged, molested, disparaged,
insulted, neglected, mutilated,
killed,
when we embolden ourselves
to go the way the Dark Goddess went.

Notes:
Mahadev and Rudra are names of Lord Shiva
Tandaving: refers to the act of Shiva’s dancing in rage, derived from the word tandav
Khadga: sword
Shamshan: funeral site
Pardah: social seclusion of women by making them cover themselves up and remain in limits set by patriarchy.

Visuals from Different Truths

(Prof.Dr.) Laksmisree Banerjee, a University Professor of English & Cultural Studies, National & International Scholar, is an established, widely published/ anthologized practising Poet, a Literary Critic and Writer as well as a Sr. Radio and TV Vocalist. She has Five Books of Poetry with several Academic Books and One Hundred Twenty Research Publications with several Awards to her credit. She has taught, lectured and recited in Premier Universities and Literary / Cultural Festivals across the globe.

A Hotelier by profession who believes in offering memories to her guests~and the charm of being a tiny part of the stories of their lives. A student of the myriad experiences that life holds out and believing that there is never any stop to learning. Above all, A people’s person relishing a connect with a variety of lives. Ipsita writes because She Must. Because there is no other way for her.

Lily Swarn is a gold medallist and a double university colour holder from Panjab University. She has authored, A Trellis of Ecstasy (poetry), Lilies of the Valley (essays), The Gypsy Trail (novel). A multilingual poet, writer and columnist, her poems have been translated into 13 languages. A radio show host and Emcee, she received World Icon of Peace, Chandigarh Icon Award, Woman of Substance, World Icon of Literature and several other prestigious awards.

Dr. Ketaki Datta is an Associate Professor of English with Bidhannagar College. She is a novelist, critic, poet, translator, and reviewer. Apart from two novels, she has two volumes of poems, Across the Blue Horizon, [2014] was published from the U.K.  Her latest collection Urban Reflections has been published from Germany. She has also contributed profusely to anthologies and journals, in India and abroad.

Born at Durgapur, West Bengal, Deeya Bhattacharya- a PG in English Literature and a Graduate in Education from the University of Burdwan. Her poems and articles have appeared in several National and International journals, websites, E-zine, besides several anthologies. Member of Poets International, She has read her poetry at quite a few fests. She teaches English and Poetry at a State Government High School.

Rituparna Khan is an Assistant Professor in Geography at Bidhannagar College, Salt Lake, Kolkata. Her inclination to Literature, especially poetry is no less.  A few of her works are published and well appreciated and awarded in print as well as social media. Her first book, a collection of short stories, was launched at Kolkata International Book Fair, this year.

Rumpa Ray-Ghosh is a published poet, a content writer, a blogger and a singer. She is a post-graduate and B.Ed. from Calcutta University and a Sangeet Visharad from Bhatkhande Sangit Vidyapith, Lucknow. She has worked as a teacher in St. Thomas School, as content-writer for ‘Pratham’ (NGO) and as an English curriculum- developer in Vibgyor High School, Mumbai. She has published a book, “Musical Marvels of Self” and owns a blog.

Suchismita Ghoshal from West Bengal, India is a professional writer, poet, published author, storyteller, content writer, book critic and columnist. She has co-authored for more than 140 anthologies, journals, magazines both from the national and international arena. Her debut poetry book “Fields of Sonnet” has been launched in September 2019.

Dr. Pratima Chaitanya works as an Assistant Professor in Jagat Taran Girls’ PG College, Allahabad. She is a prolific writer and has published several articles in national and international journals and books. Her poems have appeared in reputed journals including Eastlit, U.K., IJELLS, Langlit and The Creative Launcher, India. She has an anthology of poems, entitled, Explorations to her credit. She has a keen interest in theatre and has acted in several plays.