A delectable poetic stew in an inimitable style

You are invited to partake of a delectable poetic stew, lavishly spiced with imagination, humour, reflections, surprising surmises, audacious wit, honesty and seasoned with a sprinkling of rich vocabulary (keep a dictionary handy), resonance and emotions.

Its alluring aromas unobtrusively enter one’s consciousness under the effortless proficiency of a master wordsmith, heightening one’s desire for more. Welcome to the appealing world of Atreya Sarma’s maiden book of poems. I hope my review will add just that wee bit of zing to this olio and make it more appetising.

The olio’s alluring aromas unobtrusively enter one’s consciousness under the effortless proficiency of a master wordsmith, heightening one’s desire for more...

In the preface Atreya says he has been spurred to flirt with different genres and so we have free verse, limericks, a sonnet, a ballad and a ballade in this collection. Writing about nature, society and politics relations and equations, romance and friendship or the spiritual vacuum of our times, his voice can be nettled, frowning, wistful, astute, passionate, intrepid, sour with sarcasm, playful...each accent appropriate to the occasion and theme of his poem,making this “A rollercoaster joy ride” as put accurately by Sunil Sharma in his foreword.

He has cooked the stew in his inimitable style beginning with the crackling ‘tadka’ of ‘Femina’. Only four poems but they hiss and sputter with women’s miseries from a simple housewife’s pining to be romanced once in away by her insensitive husband to the wretched vulnerability of an ill-fated female infant; from the endless spectrum of WWW: Woman’s World of Woes to the abiding love of a mother even after death. These are outpourings engendered by the courage of a gentle, discerning heart in a ruthless world.

“Can a lotus be damned/For the slush it springs from?” (p 4) questions he in ‘Crush and finish It,’with deep anguish and compassion.

The concluding lines of WWW should rouse the conscience of any reader; even women because often they are equally guilty of crimes against their own kind –

“Then why worship distant angels unseen | When we have the woman on this earthly scene?” (p 7).
Each poem under the canopy of “Reflectively Yours”plunges you in profound contemplation. If I had the luxury of space here, I would have quoted from all.

But this short poem ‘My Tears for the Underdog’, took me by surprise.You begin to warm up to the empathetic tone and suddenly find yourself looking at a poem turned on its head–

“The tears I shed | For the dog | And the underdog | Well up from the ink | Of my copious pen!” |
“Not from your heart?” | “No, I’m heartless | The rich girl has stolen it.” (p 83)

The penalty of forgetting a wife’s birthday has been mischievously magnified in ‘Ouch, a Forced Bachelor’ in ‘Romantic Peeps’. ‘My Simple Song’ is a sweet lyric for a made-for-each-other couple.

Most poets eulogise the splendour of the setting sun but Atreya has a different take on it in ‘Sin under the Sun’ He suffers its ignominy as it goes down –

“Unable to bear | The sinner’s burning glare, | The sun slipped behind a veil of clouds | And sank down fast | Closing his eyes...” (p 85)

Americana is a sort of travelogue – poetic musings of places visited and insights gained. ‘A different game of hearts’ shows us the author’s perceptiveness; his keen observation of life here and there.

In all his poems there is a subtle search or awareness of truth. However, grim or droll it may be he is not evasive. Because he is true to himself, he dares to be forthright, even blunt in his poems.

They are a distillation of many years of experience, observation and acuity. They penetrate and lay bare the bedrock of human experience in a language that is meticulous, nuanced, erudite and powerful creating a natural work of art with intertwined sensations.

The image on the striking, bright yellow and chocolate brown front cover reflects Atreya’s idea that “If it is just cold rain and snow, it would be dampening. If the rain and snow/ice are suffused with sun, it symbolises the eclectic and the harmonious, and that to me is poetry.”

And that is Atreya’s poetry!

By: Shernaz Wadia