By Glenis M. Mendonça

When the world went into lockdown, the Margao Book Club (MBC), based in South Goa-India, met over Zoom to have interesting book discussions. In a quirky moment, the members thought of trying their hand at writing verse. The eight Rasas of Bharata’s Natyashastra, were decided as a frame for inspiration. Sixteen MBC members found respite in setting their imagination go riot in verse, and a couple of months later the curator of the Club, Savia Viegas (author, artist and art curator) selected the best to create this blissful panacea to the trapped minds and christened it ‘Viral Verse’.

In a crimson cover with a picture of a palm beckoning a stop to all activities during the pandemic lockdown, Viral Verse unleashes verse of a rare nature from eclectic minds spread far and wide in the tiny state of Goa. Dedicated to the Covid-19 warriors, the sixteen poets who have contributed to this collection are a heterogenous lot, ranging from the popular and famous to the talented novices. They include Antonio Rodrigues, Arun Babani, Brian Mendonça, Carlos Luis, Gauravi Keni Khaunte, Glenis Mendonça, José Lourenço, Margarida Martins, Nikhil Kamat, Priyanka Naik, Radharao Gracias, Savia Viegas, Stanley Coutinho, Tamara Pinto, Tanvi Bambolkar and Ved Iyer.

An anthology which breathes the Goan sentiment while in lockdown, the collection aptly begins with the anthem prose-poem “I am Goan” by Radharao Gracias. The opening lines speak about the fluid identity of the Goan who was liberated from the Portuguese six decades ago and today resides in prominent places on the world map.

                                You find me here and there, everywhere.

                        In London or Swindon

In Lisbon or Melbourne…

No borders confine me (p.1)

Antonio Rodrigues’ “I am a Doctor” resonates with the predicament of the health workers and doctors during the pandemic. Written in rhymed quatrains, this poem rings a poignant note, a sardonic confession of a doctor who is overworked and anxiety-stricken due to the pandemic crisis.

                        Yes, you call us warriors- we fight a World War three,

                        With our families too behind on the battle field—a different enemy. (p.8)

The knocked-down feeling during the lock-down is expressed by Rodrigues in “Lockdown”. He personifies the mask in his “The Mask,” calling it ‘the boss’ and ‘facial brief’ of the pandemic season. Both these poems evoke the karuna rasa. Distinct from this is Arun Babani’s poems. One of them is “Black Comedy” which exudes the shoka or sorrow which surges in the deep recesses of the poet’s mind. Babani paints satiric dark images of the tumultuous pandemic times with his opening lines.

                        Neurotic is the new normal.

                        Nudity, the new status.

                        Black is in. So is rude.

                        Password: Backstab. (p.18)

The dark humour is all that can be seen in the cynical contemporary times, the poet avers. The last line sums it all: You can only laugh…enjoy/ The black comedy surrounding you. Babani’s verse is terse, evocative and loaded with metaphoric magnanimity.

On a different note, Brian Mendonça (the Last Bus to Vasco fame) has contributed three poems to this anthology. STAN(D) ALONE is written in memory of Fr. Stan Swamy S.J. who passed away in custody on July 5, 2021. Using rhymed quatrains, Mendonça manages to succinctly drawn in the immense contributions of Fr. Stan Swamy in standing alone for what was righteous for the marginalized people in his missions. With Biblical echoes, this poem is teeming with rhythm and figures of speech. Tapping on the krodha, is yet another poem “Looking for Anger” by Mendonça. Drawing in splatters of images inciting rage, the poet brings in the familiar Goan geography suggesting how anger corrodes our societal moral fabric.

                                    On the highway there is death

                                    --and anger

                                    as a dog mourns his mate

                                    entrails ripped

                                    by a speeding vehicle at Verna (p.23)

The atmosphere is charged with anger in a pandemic where frustration has reached its peak. This however mellows down in Carlos Luis’ poems “Powerfully Magical” and “Artist”, which evoke the vismaya rasa. In the former, Luis seeks divine intervention to magically turn his topsy-turvy life to order. “Artist” is the shortest poem in this collection. Just a quatrain in free-verse, this poem too seeks the grace of the almighty to mend the brokenness of the poet.

                                    When I do not fail to pay a visit,

                                    He resides in my abode,

                                    Faithfully and succinctly resolving,

                                    Every broken piece of my soul (p.26)

The most awesome poem is Gauravi Keni’s “In Awe of my Grandmother’s Skin”, where the poet sees the wrinkles on her grandmother’s skin as a slate to learn her mother tongue.

                                    Grandma’s skin was a work of art

                                    An embroidery of a kind…(p.32)

The waves of Feminism ring a familiar note in the midst of the ‘pandemic waves’ in Keni’s poem “Four Waves Ago”. She voices the predicament of women in a patriarchal world and enlists the struggles they face to ensure that ‘a new voice is born’ (p.33).

There are poets like José Lourenço, Margarida Martins, Nikhil Kamat, Priyanka Naik, Savia Viegas, Stanley Coutinho, Tanvi Bambolkar, Tamara Pinto and Ved Iyer who have contributed their poetic gems suffused with myriad rasas, balancing alongside the frenetic situations of the pandemic. Priyanka Naik’s “Pandemonium” rebukes the reckless unmasked idiots who risk the lives of innocents while violating the covid norms. The krodha rasa is evident in the lines:

                                    I have nothing more to say to you

                                    You who attend mass gatherings

                                    Melas, rallies, crowded weddings

                                    While angels in white toil mercilessly

                                    In hospital wards… (p.43)

A poignant poem “Untitled” by Savia Viegas, makes an evocative appeal to understand the sheer loss of life and the disenchantment of being unable to even be present at the funeral of one’s own child. A mother clutching the family picture of her son who is victim to the virus in far away London, evokes shoka. The ‘dusty glass chipped frame’ of the Pieta overlooking this scene creates the right milieu for this emotional moment. Such poems remind us of the trauma of separation, the regret of being unable to have a glimpse of the corpse of a close person and the utter trauma of losing so many loved ones to a virus. 

Sorrow is personified and given a local habitation in Tamara Pinto’s “Sorrow’s Day Out”. The pandemic has invited a lot of sadness. So, what if joyous rainbows infect Sorrow? What if sorrow is affected by the happiness bug? Pinto’s child-like mind prances with words. The concluding couplet is well rhymed and may be sung to tune:

                            And if sorrow gets caught in a smile or a hug,

                            She might just be infected by the happiness bug! (p.66)

The preoccupation with the screen due to the virtual mode during the pandemic, finds a voice in Tanvi Bambolkar’s lone poem “Silences…” The virtual class is full of silences. The screen is a wall which conceals the realities of the pandemic times. Silences speak louder than words. Private chats are unsafe.  “Who knows even/ They will be tapped someday?” (p.67). Our life is controlled by the virtual mode of teaching-learning and working.

            Like the Big Boss

House

We will be waking up

           When they want us to…(p.67)

The poets of Viral Verse feel the tremors of the pandemic and weave them into the tenacious tapestry of their verse.  Savia Viegas has expertly crafted this anthology with care. The poems are well chosen. They are cemented on the bedrock of the rasas, making them evocative and powerful. The foreword is a brief background to this enterprise which Viegas calls “Birthing a Book of Poems”. Tamara Pinto’s creativity of designing the cover is praise-worthy. The title “Viral Verse” is quite ‘punny’. The varied rasas exuded during the pandemic times are captured in this collection with vividness and sentiment. In seventy-five pages, this book is a treat to a lover of poetry who is yearning to experience a slice of terse pandemic verse.  

Glenis Maria Mendonça is an Associate Professor, Department of English from Carmel College of Arts, Goa. She has been teaching literature for over two decades. She was awarded the PhD for her thesis on Translation Studies. Her interests include Goan literature, Konkani fiction in English Translation and poetry. She is passionate about the Goan Mando and actively engages in the secular festivals of the state. She also translates from Konkani into English.

To purchase a copy of Viral Verse please contact Savia Viegas or any member of the Margao Book Club.