Corona Doldrums
by Anuradha Bhattacharyya
Reviewed by
Annapurna Sharma
Dy. Chief Editor
Muse India, the
literary ejournal
India
Corona
Doldrums | Poems | Anuradha Bhattacharyya|
Authors Press, 2021, pp. 164, INR 795
ISBN: 978-93-90891-25-2
Genuine poetry can
communicate before it is understood – TS Elliot.
The year 2020 will be
etched in the minds of humanity like never before. It was unexpected and
deadly. Mankind is acquiring skills to tackle such crises. We are slowly and
steadily acclimatizing our minds and bodies to the new normal. We are learning
to fight, learning to cope, learning to thrive, learning to survive. There are
several others who aren’t as lucky as the rest of us. My heartfelt condolences
to the bereft.
In
the midst of this chaos, yet there are several others who found ways to deal
with the anguish within them. Dr.
Anuradha Bhattacharyya is one such sensitive poet who let the words
engulf her. She found solace in poesy. Her book Corona Doldrums is a
log-book of sorts – chronicling incidents, people, places and so on. As the
name suggests the verses absorb the temperament during lockdown. With 108 poems
the collection appears overwhelming at first sight but when one begins to read,
one gets sucked into its abyss. The poet has touched almost all the nooks and
corners of life.
Dr.
Anuradha Bhattacharyya is the author of four poetry collections, four novels,
two academic books and several short stories and poems published in anthologies
and journals worldwide. She received the Best Book of the Year (2016) Award
from Chandigarh Sahitya Akademi for her novel One Word, Best Book of the Year
(2019) Award for Still She Cried and a grant-in-aid for her collection of poems
My Dadu, dedicated to her grandfather, Asoke Kumar Bhattacharyya, Padma Shri,
2017. Currently, she is Associate Professor of English in govt. college,
Chandigarh.
Truth
prevails when John Eliot (in the Foreword) states, ‘corona is what we want to
forget. Alas, it will never be forgotten. Anuradha’s poetry will remain. It
will remain as the source material for the year 2020.’
Dr.
Christopher Okemwa in his introduction to the book says ‘the poet has, in her
ingenuity and inventiveness captured the dread of the present human crisis in
simple, easy-to-read verses. Her poetry unfolds like a black movie-reel in the
semi-lit cinema auditorium. Her work is a massive contribution to the body of
Covid-19 literatures from around the world.’
The
poet claims that her poems are based on observations in the year 2020, mostly
in the months of March, April and May.
Are
humans guilty of their uncharitable behavior? Is it an unwitting question?
Perhaps no one knows but the poet has set the tone of her book through her
first poem ‘The Rampage’ when she calls the Earth a colossal ogress and humans,
the obstinate bacteria, that rile Mother Earth with their ever-damaging
activities. They leave her no time or space to heal.
Anuradha
sagaciously traces the origin of this new organism amongst us with her second
poem ‘The Epicenter’. She is careful not to hurt hearts but intelligently
points out that it is a foreign invasion. As I read poem after poem, I notice
how introspectively the poet has noted facts and findings. She writes:
It
was torture
Of
rubbing and scrubbing
The
unseen
The
untold
And
the unnerving
Fear
Of
contaminating. (The
Unknown)
We
can only wait and watch
While
all along
Like
the worm wriggling out of a cocoon
With
gumption and fortitude
Try
to become the better of ourselves. (Struggle)
By
the end of four poems, it is quite clear how closely Anuradha followed the
alien in our lives. She asserts that there is no escape but to learn to live
along with it, making adjustments and amendments. She has very aptly named her
book of poems Corona Doldrums
wherein she diligently captures the unexpected twists and turns in human life,
all courtesy to the new virus.
Humans
have mistakenly gauged success with their logistically acclaimed brain but have
forgotten the satire behind the very word ‘success’. The poet claims that
nothing can save us except our acceptance. The last para of the poem ‘Nothing’
is transparent – it will never go/ unless/ there is/ acceptance/ after
which/ progress can be made.
It
is often said that Gods are envious of humans for their ability and
adaptability. Even in such unprecedented conditions, humans have created a new
world called virtual reality. The poet in a calm and composed manner alleges
that this virtual reality is a hope, which is the opposite of hate and
applauds ordinary human beings who worked in tandem to save lives. She also
sings an ode to the street-end vendor who like the brave Abhimanyu dashed
through the Padmavyuha to attend to human needs.
She
talks about the plight of the migrant labor, the scavengers, the police, the
teachers, the Maoists, the students and almost everyone. She says that a virus
as big as a droplet has perfectly locked us down. It is a pity that we are all
doomed – bethe religious (believing in God) or the rationale (believing in science)
or the economist (believing in money) – we are all doomed.
The
poet clearly states that new protocols have come into existence. Be it a pauper
or a multimillionaire, do they have a choice but to follow the protocols. Isn’t
it an intelligent way of questioning that the protocols (soap, towel,
cleanliness etc) were present earlier and none bothered but now the very same
substances have left us no choice but to use them?
Despite
the pathetic surroundings the dolphins feel at home with the crystal clean
waters, the Ganga flows pristinely, accepting the love and prayers of its
devotees while for man work has become a metaphor for epidemic as he waits for
the hideous new diseasecalled Black Fungus to go away:
There’s
no Sunday
To
reckon with
Mostly,
24 hours drag
Into
any length of the day. (Work)
Whoever
thought that the lame black streak
On
the lid of a water bottle
Could
afflict a huge organism
Such
as us? (Black
Fungus)
However,
Anuradha is assured that humans will learn new ways to be social again for as
long as there is hope, Herd Immunity, a door will open somewhere,
sometime…