I have never considered myself much of a reviewer, most of all because of my inability to make comparisons to contemporary culture in an effective manner.
But after reading a 'Scattered', a collection of poems by a good friend of mine, I felt it to be my duty to don the mantle of 'literary critic', as ridiculous as it sounds in conjunction with my name, at least once. I promise that's the last time I'll talk about myself in this post.
But after reading a 'Scattered', a collection of poems by a good friend of mine, I felt it to be my duty to don the mantle of 'literary critic', as ridiculous as it sounds in conjunction with my name, at least once. I promise that's the last time I'll talk about myself in this post.
Scattered is a set of poems that ranges over a varied set of topics and feelings, providing an insight in to quite a mix of emotions. It was a refreshing read, and was a nice change after reading many a collection of poetry where doom and desolation were the main theme. Scattered has its share of sadness as well, but it is mixed in nicely with other emotions such as love, pure joy, anger and lonliness.
There are many poems in Scattered that I can personally relate to, none more so than 'Music of the rain, of fever'. Fever is a hallucinogenic like no other, distorting the world beyond comprehension;
My fever sings in tongues, I listen, enthralled'Bullet Hole in my memory' is another poem that caught my attention. Although it seems like a typical poem outlining the pain of a refugee from the Civil War in the North, it contains an emotional depth that goes beyond that.
Beguiled, hypnotized, I listen with bedazzled eyes
Now that it's over, here I standThis poem does a great job describing the absolute pain felt by someone revisiting their home which has been destroyed, with every person in the world who cared for them gone, with only darkness crowding in on their vision and all hope lost.
With a bullet hole in my memory from where The emotions bleed.
The 'Bus Diaries' is one of the poems in Scattered which I really love, and it is one which I can absolutely relate to. It describes every scenario that I have experienced in Sri Lanka's public transport. I cannot help but quote from two of my favorite stanzas:
Onboard entertainment. Taps away
On a drum and sings. Quite nice
Good strong voice. Rs. 20
Wriggles out happily and lands
In his battered drum....
It rains flowers in the busWhile a fair share poetry in the volume is profound in nature, there are many poems which are quite light-hearted and lay the fact that the authoress is firmly grounded in the mundane activities of everyday life (although she probably daydreams through most of it!). It is the this variety seen in 'Scattered' that impressed me the most.
Tamarind flowers, lime flowers
The speakers overhead showers flowers
Stuffs them in the ears, grinds them
Bores them in....
There are many other colorful and interesting poems to speak of in this collection, but before I end up droning on to the point of this review becoming a bore unto itself, I shall conclude with one last quote from 'Upon aging - Realization':
...Age is a bastardPoetry is not seeing the world through the eyes of another, it is the realization that we can see it through our own. Jayani C. Senanayake's 'Scattered' is a collection of poetry that would not have been such a lovely read if not for that very fact.
That does not understand
The pain of a child, that piercing gash
Felt at the moment when a child realizes that her
Immortal giants have grown old.