And when it comes to transparence,
a truer tale could be told in
not so much as two lines
as that harboured in a tome
meant to be flipped
with nonchalant fluency.
A Clock in the Far Past by Sarabjeet Garcha opens with the poem ‘Frugal Narrative.The above lines struck me like an invite.The word frugal is an interesting kernel to explore,there is an emotive generosity,a meditative capacity in these poems to pause, to generate insight,feel fruition and leave an inescapable taste in your presence once you have kept the book back on the study or by the bedside or gifted someone else to enjoy.The balance of the book lingers on.
The outstanding experience of bringing the reader closer to earthiness to feel ‘a lump of loose brown soil’ or ‘malleable mound’ or ‘jaggery gone viscous’ are real reminders of transition,a journey out of the ‘plastic chaos’ of now to equanimity,to eco-awareness. There is no idealism in the pitch as we take the journey to the poet’s past,it is presented as it is and that’s what keeps the faith in both now and then. ‘A Patch of Sunlight’ confirms how we have could have seen more, read more yet there is no negation of what has been missed for it has only added to the capacity of experience.
The missing punctuations mystify the reader. Do we go deeper or do we just stop is the question one wraps into while reading ‘The Believer’, ‘Unlearning the Kabir and ‘Keeper of the Granth’.At times the poems weave a lull, a walk blanketing the rainy forest, the freshness of fecund memories one can just brew as one keep turning the pages.What keeps the text, reader and narrator going in a rhythmic dance is that ambiguity of simplified belongingness. Here nobody is leading the other or refusing the other,it is also an amalgamation of obscuring the boundaries, yet keeping what belongs to you as yours;it is a delightful mix of walking together;often reminds of buskers you meet on a train journey or a religious walk that is incomplete without everyone’s accompaniment of full presence. The poems carry one into their fold without demanding,jostling but slowly lacing one in a way that you are startled how effortlessly your being wears them without a cost.
I enjoy this richness that compels you to feel known,tasted,once belonged be it in past or now or speak of some private soiree when you know you can put ‘glow-worms to shame’ or the perpetuity as ‘says the river’ in the poem ‘Passenger”.
Every return of mine
will coincide
with the scripting
of a new tale..
And one wonders holding the clock in the hand, the fluidity, the passage, the endearing challenging timelessness of the time. In the practice of mindfulness, the attention is all-encompassing,non-judging and kind. The tenderness, beauty and ease with which this collection blends into one’s being calls for its acceptance into the poetry of presence.
Thank you Sarabjeet for this eclectic brew. Breathing, sipping, singing and moving! We are walking into the dance of past without searing it for analytic display but for the healing that it has already brought into the now.
Sarabsri 