Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Rema Prasanna Pisharody                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Bangalore        
                                                                                 January 27,  2016                                                                         


In fairy tales, angels come down from heavens with a magic wand to fascinate our dreams. In Poems of  Muktha, I can find the freshness of a new born dawn, mist filled soft words and a heart that beats for an unseen moment, for a stranger and a play school of childhood and a soul that wanders to reach upon the ultimate realm of solitude.

In her poem titled ‘A Long Forgotten Story’ Muktha takes her pen to unveil her own powder soft imagination;

‘’Starring the Moonish sky
That lit to guard
The secrets of life
It has a way lot
To walk behind and foretell
Stories of love braving
Courage, wars and even betrayal..’’

Here in these lines Muktha takes in hand the mystic Universe, continues with a sequel frame which according to her guards the secrets of life, stories of love braving courage, wars and even betrayal.

In poem titled ‘The Surprise’ from 9th Standard’ Mukhta shelters her philosophical self.  

The wondrous times of all
The Nature brought a surprise
That cheers even the infant
It is the happy time of nature
To draw us towards her beauty
Oh!, the lonely solitude has now got prize for his prayers.

Wordsworth in his poem ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud’ gifted us a leaf from his heart to describe how blissful solitude is. 
“They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.”

Muktha expresses her symbolic self in her heart rendering Poem ‘The Jasmine’
From the shores of limitless sorrow, Mukhta soothes the soft petals of this Jasmine in plain sheets of life. Change is the order of life and at one point or the other all are helpless to hold back even a moment.  This poem fills tear drops in noon day dreams and blazes fire in the evening canopy of a sky that witnessed a beginning and a painful end.

Now she is a tormented one
With her pretty leaves
Lying on the ground weeping
Now she can claim a beauty
That once created jealous
Now I watch a little girl
Across the street
Looking at the ravaged
Parts of her body
Weeping all day along
Igniting a fire in her mind..

Muktha’s images in ‘The Stranger’ from 10th Standard did not appeal me but  it is true that somewhere in our day to day lives we all  encounter with strange unknown fears and shadows which at the end can turn out to be our own hallucinations.

In ‘Time’ of 7th Standard Muktha takes charge of time.
There always time
But none to waste
You touch it with your bare heart
You can’t beat it
You Can’t Stop it
But you can win over
If you can use them

In ‘My Heart’ from 11th Standard Muktha talks about her quarrelsome thought streams which at one point thread on her own heartbeats to embroider a helpless soul.

My heart is beating
I can’t correlate
My heart is sinking
I can’t understand

Mukhta cuts a chord to reach upon a horizon to ask a question and forces us to follow her mind.  
Oh tell me mind
What else should I do?

In her poem ‘Myself’, Muktha talks about her soul

Let me introduce me by drawing aside beautiful curtains
I am a soul with lots of sins
that can’t be forgiven by even God.
I am not so intelligent
Not brilliant nor beauty
Could I say that am neither
Talented but just
An idiotic element
But I know myself
 That I am sincere
To my heart always
That heart keeps thudding
To me till my death

Let me recollect the lines of a poem titled ‘Acceptance’ by Langston Hughes
‘’God in His infinite wisdom
did not make me very wise-
so when my actions are stupid
they hardly take God by surprise’’

In holograms we can brief a flagship giant, where here Mukhta surprised me with her images and stunning honesty.  ‘In the rose petals of life forgetting the thorns of real life’ Mukta redeems her childhood  with her crystal cut candid words like ‘gone are the days when we climbed the Nutmug Trees like a bird who wishes to perch upon a tree or a mountaineer who aims at the peak..

Muktha travels through her treasure house of imagination and connects her frames in imageries though simple but powerful which in turn conquer the heart and even the ever non-conquerable expectations of a reader.

I would like to re-collect what Maya Angelou narrated in her ‘Still I Rise’
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Let me conclude with Muktha’s poem ‘The Surprise’

‘’The wondrous times of all
The nature got a surprise..’’

Yes, there is  ‘surprise’ not one but many more when I read Mukhta.
It is true dear Muktha,
from the Heavens!!!
the dawn broke like an Orange…
It is the sweetest moment of life
that glow like a diamond..


Rema Prasanna Pisharody…

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