The best kind of Promise

Srividya Sivakumar finds herself charmed by a collection of poems written by the nearly-80-year-old Ranjani Neriya

“Some things you don't have to promise. You just do.”

¯ Rick Yancey

Glissade. Sonatina. Petiole. As I turn the pages, new words from a different, more genteel time dance before my eyes. I taste them, savouring the sensation of pronouncing these almost unfamiliar terms.

PROMISE- A Life , a collection of poems by Ranjani Neriya and published by Leadstart, Mumbai, is beautiful, lyrical and unusual. Just a month shy of her 80 th birthday, the poet is no stranger to the world of publishing. Her articles and short stories have featured in many Indian and American journals, including The Indian P.E.N and the Midwest Poetry Review.

It seems like a natural progression to move on to a full-fledged book. That’s books, actually. These 64 poems constitute a second collection of poetry.

As I make my way through the book, the titles shout out at me.

Episcope ,

Biorhythmia ,

Afyoon ,

Spiderese ,

Cyclorama ,

Pastorale ... I read on and imagery fills my senses. I could write a column about just that - but here are a few.

“...a touch and I shall/ glissade into sun-gold smithereens.”( Episcope )

“...we sit as if trimmed/for an archaic windowscape.”( Condolence )

“the woman waits/her chipped bowl/ gathers thirst...”( Thirst )

In Dialogue , the poet says, “stirring nostalgia into tea cups/we have collated fratricides...”

The book is divided into four parts. The first speaks of the poet’s childhood and early adulthood, the second with life in the bustling metropolis and the everyday life.

The third part confronts the growing up years, children and their lives. The final part finds the poet almost philosophical about the hectic life she leads, finding solace in her trusty pen.

Ms Neriya paints her childhood deftly – the grandfather holding on to a “knurled cane”, Venkanna working in the cattle shed, Sr. Bernice and her ardent intonations and a garden filled with fruit and flowers and lessons on a slate.

The maid in a violence-ridden marriage, the taste of bread and discussions on Shelley over tea, the tinsmith who paved “old copper with moonbeams/grey beard singing in that noon...” and the “smoky-eyed fisher folk”– you’ll meet them all.

There is a rhythm and tempo that ebbs and flows in the poems; they are truly wonderful to recite. I am struck once again by the level of language and the ease at which it is used.

This is not a collection for the beginner, but it is a collection for anyone who is keen on poetry and wants to use it to learn more about the felicity of words – my vocabulary is greatly enhanced. Yay!

The poet’s thoughtful observation of life is deeply evident in these poems too – the spider’s web, the juxtaposition of the extraordinary resolve of the Chipko movement volunteers and their mundane lives, the different shades of existence among people in the world – be it a child terrorist, a group of siblings being sent to school or a hypocritical leader.

I found myself going back to the poems again and again, haunted by the images and the language contained in the words. For instance, Children of War which ends with these haunting lines- “...the soldier single-mindedly sows another landmine/somewhere, a leader climbs a podium/ sets free one more paper dove into a burning sky.”

Ranjani Neriya’s book is a rare kind of Promise – the kind that keeps its word. How lovely that is.