Niladri Mitra's Songs of Dusk
The more you study the lives of artists, academically or recreationally, the more you come to see how the life lived closely influences the art produced. Certain events often act as a spur to compel an artist to make a particular piece of art or, at least, drive them to become more productive in some way.
Recently, something like that happened in my life. The result on my work has been a return to writing in a form I seldom have the arrogance (of which I have plenty), to attempt: poetry. This last week alone, I've written four new poems, a prodigious amount, in my estimation, for someone who doesn't consider themselves a poet.
Not only have I made this return to poetry, but I've also renewed my interest in reading it. I've revisited a number of my old favorites (Larkin, Kunitz, Auden, Henley, Hughes, Dickinson, Frost, etc.), but I've also--at long last--dipped into a book by an indie writer and poet, about which, I believe, readers should know.
Songs of Dusk is Mitra's first volume of poetry, but he's also independently published a novel and a nonfiction book (and, at present, is in the process of writing another novel). It's a slender volume, like most volumes of poetry are, but on every page, in each of it's 52 poems, he manages to express something powerful.
When compiling a book such as this--a collection of shorter writings--authors tend to consciously, and sometimes unconsciously, strive to give the book some sort of thru-line, a theme or a motif that every entry explores in some way. If the writer is particularly ingenious, they can even manage to explore multiple themes within the same collection.
In the case of Mitra's Songs of Dusk, it's clear that Mitra is exploring multiple themes in this collection. In each of the three sections of the book (titled Heart, Mind, and Spirit respectively), his themes of interest vary. Section one seems to be most occupied with the theme of love (an apt theme considering the section title). The Mind section seems most preoccupied with ideas of depression and emotional pain, and the final section both echoes the themes of it predecessors while also introducing themes of human endurance, persistence, and, most importantly, hope.
One of the marks of a great writer is their ability to explore any theme of interest from multiple perspectives. Mitra, from his verse, certainly possesses this trait. He never treats any of his themes from merely one standpoint. Instead, each poem interrogates its given subject from it's own perspective. Some do so longingly. Some do so cynically. Some do so rejoicefully. Mitra's poetry acknowledges a truth universally accepted that human emotion is complex, multilayered, and messy.
Two poems that particularly stood out to me which occur in the first section of the book, which illustrate this diversity of exploration I'm harping on about, are "And I Believed," and "Be My Friend."
The first seven lines of "And I Believed" read as such:
"Love triumphs all they said
And I believed
How naive I was to not realize they were just fairytales,
impractical essays written by ignorant romantics
Love doesn't break barriers or bring down walls
It doesn't wade through currents or climb mountains
It stays when it's convenient and leaves when there's strife […]"
One would have to be wholly emotionally stupid not to read this in the manner in which it's clearly meant. This is a highly articulate, angry, embittered rant. The speaker of the poem (not the author, for one should always draw a line between the two), has clearly been, in some way, wronged in matters of the heart. We don't know why, but we do know how they feel, and how they feel is angry. The words perfectly expression the feeling underlining them, particularly in line seven.
Yet, several pages later, we get these words from lines 1-9 of, "Be My Friend,"
"I need you tonight
More than ever before
You don't have to touch me or kiss me
Don't have to hold me in your arms
Just sit with me for a while
Talk to me
Console me with the calm of your presence
I don't need you to love me
I just need you to be my friend […]"
Now here, Mitra doesn't focus on romantic love. Instead the images his words evoke are ones of platonic love, the most common kind of love to which anyone can relate. Still, if read closely, one can see there's a certain longing to the words, as if what the speaker is requesting cannot be obtain, or at least, will not be easy to obtain. Something has ruined what once was always there. (But of course, you'll have to read the poem for yourself to find out what.)
If you love poetry and wish to add a fresh entrant into your pantheon of favorites, I'd highly recommend picking up a copy of Songs of Dusk. In such a small volume, Niladri Mitra manages to include so much of the vast range of human emotion and does so in the hardest form of writing to master. We can only hope he eventually provides the world with more.
When compiling a book such as this--a collection of shorter writings--authors tend to consciously, and sometimes unconsciously, strive to give the book some sort of thru-line, a theme or a motif that every entry explores in some way. If the writer is particularly ingenious, they can even manage to explore multiple themes within the same collection.
In the case of Mitra's Songs of Dusk, it's clear that Mitra is exploring multiple themes in this collection. In each of the three sections of the book (titled Heart, Mind, and Spirit respectively), his themes of interest vary. Section one seems to be most occupied with the theme of love (an apt theme considering the section title). The Mind section seems most preoccupied with ideas of depression and emotional pain, and the final section both echoes the themes of it predecessors while also introducing themes of human endurance, persistence, and, most importantly, hope.
One of the marks of a great writer is their ability to explore any theme of interest from multiple perspectives. Mitra, from his verse, certainly possesses this trait. He never treats any of his themes from merely one standpoint. Instead, each poem interrogates its given subject from it's own perspective. Some do so longingly. Some do so cynically. Some do so rejoicefully. Mitra's poetry acknowledges a truth universally accepted that human emotion is complex, multilayered, and messy.
Two poems that particularly stood out to me which occur in the first section of the book, which illustrate this diversity of exploration I'm harping on about, are "And I Believed," and "Be My Friend."
The first seven lines of "And I Believed" read as such:
"Love triumphs all they said
And I believed
How naive I was to not realize they were just fairytales,
impractical essays written by ignorant romantics
Love doesn't break barriers or bring down walls
It doesn't wade through currents or climb mountains
It stays when it's convenient and leaves when there's strife […]"
One would have to be wholly emotionally stupid not to read this in the manner in which it's clearly meant. This is a highly articulate, angry, embittered rant. The speaker of the poem (not the author, for one should always draw a line between the two), has clearly been, in some way, wronged in matters of the heart. We don't know why, but we do know how they feel, and how they feel is angry. The words perfectly expression the feeling underlining them, particularly in line seven.
Yet, several pages later, we get these words from lines 1-9 of, "Be My Friend,"
"I need you tonight
More than ever before
You don't have to touch me or kiss me
Don't have to hold me in your arms
Just sit with me for a while
Talk to me
Console me with the calm of your presence
I don't need you to love me
I just need you to be my friend […]"
Now here, Mitra doesn't focus on romantic love. Instead the images his words evoke are ones of platonic love, the most common kind of love to which anyone can relate. Still, if read closely, one can see there's a certain longing to the words, as if what the speaker is requesting cannot be obtain, or at least, will not be easy to obtain. Something has ruined what once was always there. (But of course, you'll have to read the poem for yourself to find out what.)
If you love poetry and wish to add a fresh entrant into your pantheon of favorites, I'd highly recommend picking up a copy of Songs of Dusk. In such a small volume, Niladri Mitra manages to include so much of the vast range of human emotion and does so in the hardest form of writing to master. We can only hope he eventually provides the world with more.
