Navamalati Neog Chakraborty is a bilingual poet, an academic, a translator par excellence, whose poems kind of tip-toe their way into one’s being, as the verses are not only relatable but are a shout out to the many social-political issues around us. Poetry keeps us sane, like all other forms of art, especially in times like this, rife with war and violence.
Navamalati’s eleventh collection of poems, I’d Once Erased Those Margins, is a thought-provoking exploration of the quiet spaces between emotions, a deeply intimate journey that leads readers into the crevices of her mind and consciousness, delving into the poet’s longing for love, friendship and peace. The poems cover many aspects of social, cultural and diurnal life, each reflecting the poet’s nuanced approach to themes of love, loss, self-discovery, and renewal.
In To a Special Memory of Yesteryears, Navamalati delves into recollections of a time gone by with a delicate hand, weaving rich imagery that feels both nostalgic and distant.
“I couldn’t keep a hold any more on the yesteryears
Which we’d made so much of with our crisp fresh laughter.
Like pearls they scattered when the string broke apart
The laughter blown and passions denuded of focus.
The galactic picture of shared-affection needed to be sunned
Provided room to be as clean as a newly painted reality of trust.”
The reading of her poems like Our Autumnal Sonata, where you can literally smell the fragrance of the dhuno, the shiuli, hear the rhythmic move and the heartbeat of the dhakis, is a thoroughly immersive experience. The use of literary devices so apt that the reader effortlessly begins to flow into the depth created by the thoughts, consciousness and the mind of the poet. The very essence of the festival Durga puja, which is the ‘best time of the year’ for the poet, finds its amalgamation with the reminisces of somebody dear:
“You are a desire I breathe, a sunray I hold
A music my ears caught, a song I hum with love
With the fragrance of the dhuno that swirl about
You are a blessed reassurance of knowing time.
You are those kaash blooms colouring my sky
The quiet sheulis smiling sharp on hearing the conch
The sway of the dhakis rhythmic move and heart-beat
And your eyes come alive deep within my heart.”
Navamalati addresses sensitive issues like racism in the poem It was our Grief.
“The grief we all must ever share
The day the cruel knee was placed
On a man’s throat
To throttle him to death…”
She questions the perpetrator of a sin so gross and grimy, ever so intensely, with immense sadness and hurt in her being,
“Did you permit the man
To even make peace with his Maker
Let thy holy will be done!
Let thy holy will be done!”
The poet says that she is a “humanist” first and does not straitjacket herself into any kind of restricted activist category. This fact is strongly emphasised and underlined in the title poem I’d once Erased those Margins, where she expresses her solidarity with every marginalised individual, irrespective of who and where they come from.
“Why do our love, our deep-seated understanding
Not seem to matter in the least for the milieu?
I’d with faith once erased those margins.
Today with quiet confidence I shall stand outside the margin
Though your love holds me within.”
Thereafter follow another poem of the author, A Dalit Woman Speaks, beautifully penned verses that could have emanated directly from a compassionate soul. The nouns ‘Dalit’ and ‘woman’ are both marginalised counterparts, the extent of trauma faced by a woman who is derogatorily looked down upon facing conditions of trauma speaks here, through the pen of the poet. The last verse of the poem thus speaks-
“The fire had in fact, lit up my warm heavy breasts
Naturally rounded.
And my baby’s lusty limbs danced like fireflies.
“Hush!” I said. And again, ‘Hush!”
Fear always pulsates in our being
I understood my man and his dread.
Lest they kill him and lunge to ravish me.
Then I shall not be a Dalit woman
But an object to ease their insane lust.”
The poem Oh, let me Go, reflects the natural melancholy that is organically thrown at us by destiny made worse by unfortunate, vulnerable hollowness of our times, replete with violence, greed for power and man-made wars, as “The earthquake visits Turkey, Uttarakhand sinks, Ukraine still has to fight on…”. The poet describes her feelings of despair at the sight of
“The old man there is broken as has just lost a good wife
The forlorn woman there was deserted by her husband.
The autistic child there laughs his guts out with his ayah by his side.
The child’s mother goes to work to pay bills ratcheted by life’s needs.”
However, she exudes a strain of positivity by wearing a shield of resilient indifference,
“Like the bark of a tree, I mark each ring of my inner being
With indifference
And keep myself apart to provide adrenaline to my life.
I do not waver to share a smile to gum in contact…
Do sit with me if you may on the park bench, to see what life is.”
As, according to her, “The Khadi’d silence of the Ahimsa rationale Is nevertheless holding on to us…”
Do you know How Bad it Hurts very poignantly echoes the war-ridden feelings of the victims in Ukraine. While reading through such poems, the poet wants us to realise that poems are realistic and speak of social justice as well as injustices; it is not all about beauty and tenderness, or blithe moments of fine romantic sentiments alone. The war-beaten people speak through the poet’s pen, thus:
“I stand with the memories of a home
Drenched with tears of my soul
I can see my mom whom your soldiers
Had chosen to rape with other women
To justify your killer’s instinct, Putin!”
In poems like The Caterwauling of Time, the poet captures the weight of unsaid words, the burden of carrying one’s inner turmoil. It is in these moments of quiet confession that Navamalati’s poetic voice is at its most honest and powerful. Poetry, for the poet, is like a spiritual tie. Each of her poems is born within my being with love and adoration, feeling and sympathy. In the poem Yet the Ganga Flows on speaks of the inevitability of death, especially during the uncertain Covid infested times.
“The reality of death is for us a primal grief
For kins and neighbours as a social body,
And yet, and yet we could do nothing at all,
We could do nothing at all for them we love.
The Ganga took them away, flowed on with them
Accompaniments with the driftwoods;
Them we loved who turned to dead bodies
With not a chance to live on
Half-burnt corpses, naked or draped.”
Isolated the Tiger Roars describes the plight of the migrant labourers during the lockdown, “the victims of an unscheduled Lockdown”.
The poet has crafted a deeply moving, meditative work that resonates with the quiet complexities of life. Each poem feels like a private conversation between the poet and the reader, offering solace and understanding. For anyone who has ever felt the weight of silence, this collection offers a comforting reminder that even in our quietest moments, we are never truly alone. The subjects covered by each poem are different, relatable and deeply synchronised to our being. Each reader would introspect for sure as each word of the anthology of fifty-five poems is read, felt and embraced heartily.
Navamalati’s mastery of form is evident throughout the collection. Her poems range from free verse to tightly structured quatrains, each form carefully chosen to complement the mood of the poem. There is a musicality to her writing that enhances the emotional depth of her work, with rhythmic cadences that linger long after the page is turned.
I’d Once Erased Those Margins is a collection that demands to be savoured slowly, each poem revealing new layers of meaning upon every read. A must-read for lovers of reflective, emotionally resonant poetry.
The reviewer is a columnist and a PhD researcher.
Spotlight
I’d Once Erased Those Margins
By Navamalati Neog Chakraborty
Authors Press
92 pages, Rs 295/-