Seconds Before Sunrise

Early this evening, I went to the release of a book by a wonderful human being with equally wonderful talent, launched by Advertising Wiz, Piyush Pandey, at the Kemp’s Corner’s Crossword.

It is a book of poems… profound yet very simple… as simple as her…

A book that is a reflection of “Shomshuklla” herself… a lady with nine music album releases, several shows of her plays (as director and writer) and three books to her credit… yet as pure and unpolluted as the name of her book itself, “Seconds before sunrise”, the cover of which is done by Shomshuklla’s own discovery… A nine and a half year old girl named Anindita.

The Foreword of the book itself by Veteran Poet, Narendranath Chakraborty, aptly points out, “Shomshuklla’s straightforward yet natural manner of narration excites our sluggish memory. The happy outcome is that there is no gap between the experience of the reader and the poet.”

How true. “Seconds before sunrise”, prompts me to search for the poet in me already, as I make an attempt to define her book with words that make its ‘Contents’:

I “Play”
with words,
as if, I am all alone in a “Paddy Field”,
like “Ants”
that try to climb a “Chair”
to have a “Conversation”
with a “Character”,
in “Pain”
of a “Prisoner”
caught in “A Scene”
“This Time”
with no idea of “What Not”
to say,
yet “Eager” to raise his voice,
as he knows the “Time”
to be “Dumb” is over,
for he believes, “Rama”
Will “Watch” from above,
And bring back the “Background Music”
Of the “Cuckoo”,
Back to his life and “Drive”
His “Footsteps”
Towards his “Return”
Away from his “Sorry” state like
A wet “Towel” that defines
His “Past”
In the “Backyard House”
In which he is “Not Interested”
As the “Animal Lover” in him
Makes him wonder “If”
Next to the “Tea” gardens
He didn’t have a “Wish” to have his farmhouse,
Where he could relax and enjoy the “Refreshment”
And “Run Away”
From “Pune”
And “Like It”
Like his childhood “Scrap Book”
And “Sink” himself in
And “Reverie”
Even without the quite “Darkness” of the night,
And relish this “Gift”
That is “Something”
Which quenches his “Thirsty” heart
Like the “Morning” sun throws light to show us the way
To take “Long Strides”
To the “Coffee Evening”
And not “Shudder”
In the “Terrace” in the white winter cold
But, glow like a priceless “Pearl”
That wins not just the “Head Or Heart”
Nor “One Rupee Or The Peacock Quill”
But “My Moment” that we are all looking for.