Review by Augusto Pinto
The poems included in this review for editorial purposes have been translated from the Konkani into English by Augusto Pinto by permission of the poet Sanjiv Verenkar, they are copyrighted to the poet and are not to be republished without his permission.
Raktachandan by Sanjiv Verenkar is the latest Konkani book to win the Sahitya Akademi award. It is the eighth collection of poetry of this veteran journalist and writer of books on contemporary Goan history.
The title Raktachandan refers to the tree species pterocarpus santalinus (red sandalwood in English) that has many medicinal qualities. Among other uses, in the days before modern balms and ointments invaded our pharmacies it was used as a pain-killer for a variety of aches, wounds and swellings.
The raktachandan wood would be shaped in the form of a doll with head, arms, legs and all the other body parts. The body part of the doll was soothingly rubbed onto whichever corresponding part of the body was feeling hurt.
Verenkar intends that his poems will, like the raktachandan doll, form a soothing balm for the mental hurts and pains and insults that the human suffers from and as the title poem illustrates it is a metaphor for his poetry:
Raktachandan
Stones of injustice
Pelted incessantly
Caused wounds of anguish
Nobody lovingly caressed
Those wounds to
Lessen the anguish
How did everyone
Turn into
Materialistic machines
Now my mind
Is the raktachandan
Applying balm on the wounds of anguish
Most of Verenkar’s poems are short lyrics and are reminiscent of the English metaphysical poet John Donne who often personified an abstract concept to deal with it at a personal level. Verenkar’s ‘God's Mercy’ is one of these that observes the officious nature of organised religion which results in genuine devotees being treated very shabbily:
God's Mercy
That day
I went to a temple
After standing in line
For four-five hours
I arrived before God
Whereupon God, on seeing me
Opened his eyes.
At the sanctum door
The rifle-toting security guard
Didn't allow Him
To look at me
Saying - “Enough! Enough!"
He twisted God's head away.
In this temple, the security guard,
Had more power than God.
I felt very bad
Mentally depressed, I
Returned to the hotel and slept
Whereupon God suddenly appeared in my dreams
And shamefacedly
Began saying:
“Why did you need to take
All this trouble and come here?
Before the security guard's dadagiri
Nothing I do counts
That's why, most of the while
My eyes are shut…!"
Verenkar’s poems take pot-shots at society. However he does not berate society directly but instead he targets himself / his narrator for refusing to act decently as in poems like ‘Principle’ and ‘Truth’ - in one case by not saving the drowning Principle; and in the other not letting Truth enter his home.
Principle
Last night, I
Was walking along the bridge
When I heard
Someone in the dark
On the bridge’s parapet
Sobbing bitterly
Go to see it was Principle
Disgusted with life
And seeking to commit suicide
By jumping over the bridge.
I grabbed him tightly
And tried to persuade him not to
But he just wasn’t ready to listen
He kept saying that
He had no faith in anybody
In each and everybody’s veins
There flowed the opiate of selfishness
So you too needn’t obstruct me
For if you embrace me —
You too won’t have a place
Principle saw
I was a bit confused
And he flung himself over
With a resounding splash!
I went on staring…
I knew to swim
Yet I didn’t jump into the river
To save him
For with him I too might drown
I feared…!
Truth
Today morning
Somebody knocked at the door
Rubbing my eyes
I peered out through the peephole:
Truth stood at my doorstep!
My heart quivered
I couldn't find the guts
To open the door
I returned to my room
And covering myself up
Slept soundly!
My wife said
Somebody had knocked at the door
I replied,
Nobody did, you just imagined that!
Truth - where did it then go?
Who knows!?
Nobody will open the door for him
That much I know
Society has thrown him to the winds
He wanders around agitatedly
Looking out for
Raja Harishchandra...!
Some of Verenkar’s poems like ‘Cycle’ and ‘Streams’ are careful observations of personal family relationships.
Cycle
Seeing the neighbours’ children
Riding cycles
My youngest, Samidha,
Constantly began nagging me
To buy a cycle.
Her ceaseless goading
Tired me out
Until one day
I told her
Do you know, my dear
Such things should be bought
When you yourself begin earning…
I don’t know what she felt.
She heard this
And never ever again
Asked me for a cycle
I too forgot about it
She grew up
Began to earn
When she got her first salary
I reminded her about the cycle
She said, “Now I don’t want a cycle
I only wanted it then
Now I’m going to buy a scooter”
Saying this she went inside
That whole night I couldn’t sleep
And remained awake thinking
My Samidha
Should become a child again
So that I can buy her that cycle.
Streams
I took all of you
By the hand
To show you the secrets
Of the streams
Now you effortlessly
Go and catch prawns
While I am left
Dying for prawns…!
The diction of Verenkar’s poems is simple and his poetic palette doesn’t use ambiguity or fragmentation, characteristics of modern poetry which sometimes turns people off. He effectively evokes the moods and ambiences of village Goa. His Raktachandan can safely be recommended as a pleasurable read which delivers what it promises.
Sanjiv Verenkar is a noted konkani author, poet and journalist. He is the author of 17 titles, and the recipient of several prestigious awards including the Sahitya Akademi Delhi and the Konkani Bhasha Mandal award. He has several poetry collections to his credit, notably Aswasth surya, Sanj sulus, and the Sahitya Akademi award-winning Raktachandan.
Augusto Pinto is a literary critic, newspaper columnist and a translator from Konkani to English. His last book was The Salt of the Earth translations of Jayanti Naik work with a critical Afterword. Currently he is working on translations of Vishnu Surya Wagh’s poems, the stories of Gajanan Jog and the works of Pundalik Naik.