Reading Time: 2 minutes
Sonali reviews the book, After Grief, by Shikhandin, exclusively for Different Truths.
We read various poets/authors from all over the world that sometimes take us to the Utopia or Dystopia: trust me Bharatvarsha (preferably not India) is a birthplace of some genius poets/storytellers. Their poems and short stories are multi-dimensional, portraying life’s different shades and social issues, according to the geographical and cultural factors.
While reading Shikkandin’s After Grief, I felt this land of splendid poets has been presented in a completely new dimension, embracing their different perspectives. Mention worthy among them Shikkandin, Dibyajyoti Sarma, Hoshang Merchant, Amit Ranjan (find me Leonard Cohen, I’m thirsty), and Naren Weiss (something more than broken love), Raindrops chasing Raindrops.
While reading Shikkandin’s After Grief, I felt this land of splendid poets has been presented in a completely new dimension…
Coming to Shikhandin’s poem, Immortality, where the poet used amazing metaphors when she starts with the very first line, “Immortality is a figment not of imagination, but of desire”. Her pen speaks of the desire which “feeds in dreams upon the dreams you left behind.” Shikhandin puts her question before readers “where immortality lies in wait and for whom?”
Each moment, each gift you received from this planet is mortal, everything ends and erodes, only our ‘final settlement’ is eternal. That she watched life’s most undeniable truth is much appreciable.
Another one from this book is the poem, The Telephone is a Plastic Thing.
Another one from this book is the poem, The Telephone is a Plastic Thing. From the very first line, the entire poem engages thoughts. A monologue or a conversation with a beloved, inhaled her/his grief, though unable to touch the hands.
The poet’s mourning spontaneously revealed not any engagement with his/her beloved, but expressed quite uniquely, “you’d be holding on to that hard raw, clawing ache,” she portrayed the telephone wire as “plastic sheathe” beneath which his beloved’s “warm breast so close”.
The prolific pen of Shikhandin again proved we should embrace our own land’s poets…
The prolific pen of Shikhandin again proved we should embrace our own land’s poets by showcasing their unique culture of writing poetries, with an incredible insight and depth of perspective.
Cover photo sourced by the reviewer
