I just finished reading Dr Santosh Bakaya’s What is the meter of the Dictionary? And, am completely bowled over. The book is divided into two sections.
The first part of her book is on Kashmir and for me, with my roots in Kashmir from my father’s side, it was almost like turning the pages of an old album and being inundated by sepia-toned memories. Imagery is of course Dr Bakaya’s strength amongst many others and this section brings alive the Kashmir of yesteryears to a familiar reader.
Her lines “Truckloads of apples trundle forth,
Humming a merry song, and my heart hums along” (From They Say there is Autumn in my Land) trundled forth a barrage of memories of our orchard.
The poems replete with mentions of teas from the region like kehwa and noon chai (salted tea) bring forth the flavours of Kashmir to savour. I was transported back in time when we sat with our grandparents sipping the cup of kehwa and tasting gratitude for those special moments (that the poetess mentions in The Backyard Garden).
In my mind’s eye I see our own house through these lines, “A little green cottage gleams in the noon day sun in that Sylvan age long ago…There are vistas of beautiful meadows, thick woods, undulating hills, and farmers working with grit. … almond blossoms, apple trees, a happy breeze. (I am Home). Indeed, Dr Bakaya has so masterfully woven the words and so skillfully described the day-to-day life that one can visualise the rolling hills, the lake, and pheran-clad ladies living in houseboats.
The second section jolts you out of the humdrum of life. The poetry here bursts upon the consciousness with a powerful universe of poems woven around the homeless, the poor and the less privileged – their thoughts, dreams, and actions. You are given a look through The Househelp’s Song with these lines:
“Let the society condemn my nerve
Let it crinkle its nose at my misplaced verve
I walk the ramp of life, with a strut, morphing into a knife,
Which slices and cuts – slices and cuts
Yes, cuts my way through strife.”
I applaud her for the sensitivity with which she writes so poignantly about the less privileged, striking a contrasting note with the apathy of those well endowed by fate. You cannot but be affected by her poetry viscerally as the poems make you introspect and examine your own actions when accosted by “the hand” at the next red light as you sit snugly in the cushioned leathering of your AC car. In the Sack, she writes,
“His sunken stomach screamed for some security
Against the gnawing hunger,
But still the boy smiled; unprotected.
From the huge hoardings, a pompous panjandrum
Smiled down at this invisible chunk, eyes unseeing, but beaming; a canny cat, dreaming of cream.”
I wish Dr Santosh Bakaya the best with this beautiful book What is the metre of the Dictionary? The book adds much to the metre of life as it examines the humdrum, the ordinary in such an extraordinary way – with imagery, compassion, and subtle nuances. It is indeed a humbling experience to read these poignant poems and ruminate over their nuances.
ABOUT THE REVIEWER
Avantika Vijay Singh is a published poet, author, editor, and blogger. Her book of poems Dancing Motes of Starlight is available on Amazon with another one in the offing. Her blog Ordinary people, Extraordinary Lives ran in the Times of India for over two years describing life during Covid with a pinch of humor. She holds a Master’s degree in Zoology and Biomedicine, the latter from the Birla Institute of Technology (BITS, Pilani). She holds a postgraduate certificate in Sustainability from the Blekinge Institute of Technology, Karlskrona, Sweden and PG Diploma in Digital Marketing from MICA.
