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| Noah's Ark - via Wikimedia Commons |
For all our achievements, human beings still grapple with
two basic questions: Where have we come from and where are we going?
These questions have been of particular interest to two
epistemological disciplines – philosophy and science. Literature and the arts
have also delved into the subject but in a more roundabout way as it lies
beyond their domain proper. However, that does not detract from the beauty and grace literature brings to the issue, not to say the powers of imagination that can shed light upon these mysteries.
Dibyajyoti Sarma’s poetry collection Book of Prayers (For the Nonbeliever), ponders
over these questions in an erudite and compelling way. His poems draw from
several origin myths of the world, including those which are part of the folklore
in Assam, the state to which he belongs, and other states in the northeast.
He starts at the very beginning. “The beginning was a void.
There was no existence; / there was no nonexistence.” These sentences echo the
essence of Buddhist philosophy, common both to Mahayana and Hinayana schools
which see a void behind the veil of the world and which find ideas of both
existence and non-existence man-made, without any corresponding reality in the
actual scheme of things. The Heart Sutra, a classic text of Buddhist philosophy,
for example, also suggests the same.
He follows it up with the line: “The beginning was
measureless water”. This reminds of the Greek philosopher Thales, who maintained
that water was at the root of all creation and that all things were made of
water.
Citing creation myths from the northeast in the next few verses,
he writes: “From it evolved two/ forms — a man and a woman. There was no
forbidden/ fruit, and they copulated without guilt.” This section turns around
the Christian origin myth of Adam and Eve, by removing the forbidden apple and
concept of guilt from the story. The alternate reading of the story that Sarma
narrates is the one more likely, from a non-religious point of view, and one
which gives the woman in the story more agency. The addition of the serpent to
the story and the temptation he causes in the woman are ultimately patriarchal
tropes which make the woman a cause for the fall of man from his spiritual
pedestal. As Aubrey Menen writes in his
novel A Conspiracy of Women, Eve was perfectly capable of pulling off the whole
thing on her own. Moreover, her desire should not be used against her, to paint
her a temptress. This is what causes the introduction of guilt and temptation
in Christian theology into which Soren Kierkegaard launches an investigation in
his classic text, The Concept of Anxiety. Kierkegaard argues that the possibility
of committing sin is the source of latent anxiety in humans.
From the universe, we move to Assam. We hear of hills and
rivers dotting its landscape; there are princesses and goddesses, suggesting a
strong feminine principle underlying the imagination of the land described.
A song-like poem, lyrical in its idiom, follows. It pays tribute
to all that gives the land its beauty and the spirit which sustains it.
“The flowers that bloom on our hills are red, / like the
setting sun, / like my grandfather’s patterned loincloth, / like my mother’s
mournful eyes now empty of tears, / like my brother’s bullet-ridden shirt, /
like blood, our blood, which we spill indiscriminately.”
The reference to violence that suddenly occurs, seemingly abrupt,
reminds us of Assam’s history of insurgency which has become less prominent now
but perhaps it is no less painful to remember the toll it once took.
The river/water motif returns with the poem We Dream of
Fish, a poem through which I first came across the author’s poetry. It is a
stunningly well-written poem which uses the fish as a metaphor for memories and
sensations, as well as the myths, that make up the Assamese sense of self and being. ( The
Sunflower Collective: Poetry| Dibyajyoti Sarma )
The next poem We Are in the City, was also published in the
TSC. It marks the poet’s tribute to Delhi, a city everyone hates to call their
home, but having lived here once, it looms large in the imagination. Drawing on the
story of Sarmad, an Armenian mystic said to have been a confidante of Mughal prince
Dara Shikoh, who was killed on the orders of Aurangzeb, the poet paints a
striking picture of Delhi. In the poet’s telling, all the seven Delhis of the
past come alive at once, existing simultaneously with concrete sky-scrapers and
selfie-wielding tourists.
In the poems that follow, other myths and epics such as the
Mahabharata in particular, are drawn upon with dexterity and aplomb by the poet.
Myths are contextualised and even contemporised, Gods are deconstructed, and this
heavy intellectual exercise is done in a perfectly organic poetic idiom.
The poem We Renounce appears almost towards the end of the
book. It is a personal favourite of this reviewer. It speaks of the last sermon
by Buddha to his favourite disciple Anand and is rich in deep philosophical
insights, while humanising the old and ailing Buddha. “I sought to escape this
cycle of illusions and / I failed, the day I longed for company, / the day you
came to me. Let me go, it’s time. / And now, I remember him, my infant son /
and I wish if I could say sorry for not being / the father I ought to have
been. Let me go, it’s time.” The repetition of the phrase ‘Let me go, its time’
brings a musical cadence to the poem.
The poems that come after are equally rich in imagination
and poetic idiom. They cover themes that the book starts with in other
innovative ways. This sense of unity and coherence gives the collection a
uniqueness as it stands on its own, and must be read in its totality to
appreciate its concerns and taste all its flavours. It is a worthy
accomplishment for the poet and heralds an original and poetically mature voice.
(Reviewed by Abhimanyu Kumar)
*The review was updated after publication to reflect some minor changes.
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