Saturday, July 26, 2014
For all its possibilities and resonances, Ananya Chatterjee’s first poetry collection ‘The Poet and His Valentine’ is a delightful read. The book is visually striking and commendably thought out. In a world that too often tells about fast forward and smart ride, this beautiful collection showcases Ananya’s prowess and talent in no uncertain terms.
Soumitra Chatterjee, the legendary actor and poet, in his appreciative Foreword, has endorsed Ananya’s creative abilities in writing verses. Even our young poet had realized ‘… this was a special gift that I had been endowed with and that I must cherish, nourish and nurture it to the best of my abilities’.
Ananya has not disappointed at the end. Her poems are like Robert Frost’s ‘The rhythmical creation of beauty in words’. In keeping with the philosophy, the themes are truths the readers will relate to, not escape to.
In the stony silence of the night
Her dormant fears are awakened again---
Powered by the absence of light. (Slow Death).
It’s the little parts, little joy, little sorrow of life- these are the things that really do matter in an unending quest for humanity. Ananya’s poems are the emotional fingerprint, more of a tone, a series of moments, that works out well. Even though the contents are simplistic and less appealing at times, she still manages to build those wrenching yet soft poems at will.
That is the way I long for you to come
Like the joy that comes after excruciating pain
Reenter my life at its withering autumn,
And make it feel like spring again. (Autumn Love)
In most of her poems, she becomes herself, something subtly created. Not surprisingly, his poems are exuberant and passionate outpourings with driving, sonorous rhythms and assemblage of shining words.
Glowing under a still-lit nightlight,
She savours the angst of his absence-
While his sponge like intellect is busy
Breathing in the springtime incense; (the Poet And His Valentine)
Showing what in retrospect seems likes considerable restraints, her poems are like a memory of what it is like growing up and come up like freedom as well as constraints and give us a through soaking.
Perhaps our paths have finally diverged
Yet our souls fail to part
Perhaps our future together, was never meant to be
Yet fond memories keep tugging at my heart. (The Bond)
It is true that love does not always works out well, dry up half way through but drawing on youth, filled up with love and innocence, her poems flesh out boldly at the end.
The memories of his touch, so wild yet tender,
I carry with me, as fresh as ever-
The thought of his lips, fiercely on me
Burns me up still, like fire on wine. (Goodbye Love)
It is apparent that she has something inside that never allows her to give in even when going is no longer endurable.
The night was long but my dream did not stop
As I saw myself warm and safe in your arms. (Fake Reality).
Started writing in earnest and unsullied by the negativism, she maintains a passionate concern for those struggling and cut through the web of deceit and hatred wherever she finds it. Sometimes she delves into heavy themes, shaping them into a framework which is surprisingly poignant. Warmth is her writings other quality.
She’d sing to me, all night long,
Until my soul brimmed with the song.
And then I’d sleep, my fears all gone, (Return Of The Melody)
Sail between the locales, her poems are painting that speaks. The poet believes in simple mantra of unwavering love of peace and harmony. Her world is a place where we readers can go and feel like we are well taken care off.
A shy moon peeps from behind the clouds-
Its glittering image now adorns the sea,
And all of a sudden, the silent night,
Does not appear lonely… (Enlightenment)
Not that vision is hermetically sealed, nor always the poems are thoroughly refined, yet her works give a visual aroma, an esthetic commonality and a lust for life. From toiling in a relative obscurity, she emerges as a powerful voice in the contemporary poetry in such a young age.
My Window caught a glimpse of her shock-marred face
Those eyes emitting hollow pain, naked fear…
I drew the blinds before our eyes could meet
And couldn’t help thinking, “It’s not me out there…” (Inertia)
This neatly designed book is definitely worth a look. The publisher SHAMBHABI, The Third Eye Imprint deserves to be complimented. I wish this book should be in your must-grab-now list. Don’t miss it.
The Poet and his Valentine by Ananya Chatterjee published by
The Third Eye Imprint
Price- INR 170