Emerald Blades Book Review
Emerald Blades by Reijul Sachdev is an extraordinary book of poetry that will leave the readers with joy of discovering the masterful potential of the human mind, in intimate relation with the mind of the poet. There are also many poems, in which this feeling is presented with its ups and downs, as occurs naturally in everyone’s life.
There are often a starting point for formulating poetic reflections on life, about suffering, about joy, about love, about friendship, but even in these cases, apparently it is easier to manage from the poetic point of view. The author implements the flights of fancy and delivers readers a lyrical dimension that is completely absorbed by the deepest fibres of the soul of the reader.
The author instinctively follows the movements of the soul that allows you to toggle the dream, the desire, the nostalgia, the happy moments spent and the memory that comes back to turn up as if to underline, at times, distance between the past full of positive emotions and this arid, full of existential loneliness, and other times as if to make up for the lack of the pleasant atmosphere of the old days, softening as well as present moments.
Then there are the more philosophical poems, where the author continues its painful quest to snatch at least a glimmer of the meaning of existence, within a universe of which you are but an infinitesimal part that makes us part of his greatness.
The author, in his new anthology, chose this way and so left that remain, while availed of the other half to give voice to the possible conjectures that half hushed from time to time, and the melancholy that shines. It is a silence that lives of their own force, declined to the positive and translated into the inner wealth it produces.
It does nothing, the poet, to withdraw from the depths of the words that intimate suffering is difficult to express, but that is common for many aspects of human beings, and therefore, gives way to his sensitive soul and make it their own, as well, to clarify it.
From this brief introduction, it already takes the poetic intention of the author, who fully assume the function of the poet and, therefore, illuminate what demands an explanation, a meaning, and try to analyze from multiple perspectives doubts, questions, mysteries, pain and, in short, everything to do with the universal existence by giving it a possible, but not unique, nor exhaustive interpretation.
Beyond the title of the whole anthology of example, what is striking at first sight are the titles for each poem and it is interesting to see how they are then filled with meaning in different senses which, in most cases, already embodies the overall sense of poetry. This wealth then substantializes in several poems, crossed by a musicality and harmony that will guide you through almost immediately understandable, if not the deepest sense, at least the atmosphere embodied in the form.
The poems sometimes alternating with sevenfold, as the best ever exceeded classical tradition, is to break it, so that it looks stopped thinking and to take breath, tending to mask the hendecasyllable, almost always present, hinting at a voice that best supports the rhythms and, once again, the same understanding.
But I would now like to emphasize a particular characteristic of the poet, which permeate his work as reading his poems, one will ask, almost in disbelief, how he manages to introduce the universe, in its many facets, within a short poetic composition. It almost seems that his mind is able to contain it, to bring to the surface and show its readers what the subject of his fantastic and imaginative vision is.
The silence, sometimes, is gravitate of words whose sound is that of a universal language with words that come to his lips, and there they stop, or in the soul where they are held in great turmoil, but not daring to spill over. Through the unsaid words, the silence takes so hard stand as sentinel of the highest tower of life and that casts its shadow on everything that you would like to say and instead is silent.
The poet, however, is not allowed to live in the shadow of silence. He has to assume the responsibility and translate it into poetic words that are urgently needed inside but without any invasion of the field, in fact, in more polite form than the silence of others.
There is much more to say to present fully this rich and interesting poetry anthology, but I will conclude by stressing how the author has a great ability to capture small signals, not only from people’s lives directly or indirectly known, but also from presence of objects and things that might seem insignificant and that he instead filled with life and meaning, especially in analogy with their own or others’ experience.
It’s as if he could make present to each player, who wanted to immerse themselves in his poetry, the stereoscopic appearance of his soul, in whose depths to discover, together with him, unimaginable treasures that live there but always taking us by hand with mild and sometimes even with slight irony, even when it presents images of pain because it is able to release the pain itself from the notion of mystery, making it alive, palpable, and with effect of strong and immediate emotional participation of the reader.
Format: Paperback ♥ Publisher: Leadstart ♥ Pages: 148 ♥ Published: 2016 ♥ Language: English ♥ ISBN-13: 978-9352015955
Source :- http://bookmarkks.blogspot.com/2016/08/emerald-blades-book-review-reijul.html
Book Review : Emerald Blades by Reijul Sachdev
Now here comes an anthology of poems that will give you a glimpse from every facet of life.
The book will be your companion whether you are happy, sad, depressed or excited.
The poet has beautifully captured the essence of life in his poems which simultaneously provides us with myriad possibilities and mundane solutions. Sometimes it shows the world as a monochromous entity and sometimes in a multicoloured fashion.
The book also captures the dichotomy of life where a person often finds himself stuck between two different choices of equal importance.
This anthology will force you to ponder over the various decisions that you have taken up in your life and will enlighten you by providing the required experience to take better decisions in the future.
1. Language is crystal clear without any spelling errors.
2. In depth meaning which once deciphered will provide you great insights about life.
1. The vocabulary used is on a slightly higher level so be ready to keep a dictionary by your side because you are going to desperately need it.
RATOMETER : 9/10
Grab your copies right now from Amazon.
2016, pp 148
Come beside me into darkness,
Where Madness waits and Beauty
Come walk beside me in the moonlight
And sing to me of wilder things.
These lines from the poem Wilder Things, from this collection by Reijul Sachdev, scores full on form and content and is among the finest ones in this collection along with Ebony and Ivory, Where The Wild, Wild Things Run Free, and Lies in Darkness. The jacket blurb mentions that the poems spring from Sachdev’s experience as a borderline schizophrenic. Let that not deceive the reader into thinking this collection is dark or depressing. The mood is far from defeatist.
It is of a mind trying to keep itself steady by shutting out the ‘creatures of the mind’. In the light of this, his heightened sensibilities, the title becomes plain — blades of grass that can appear as double-edged swords and alternatively as nature’s bounty offering succour. The colour emerald or green is representative of balance; of that which creates the equilibrium between reason and emotions.
The dialectic between the emotional, joyous response to idyllic scenes of nature, of letting oneself go and that of a world-weariness, of being confined to a life of duties is a major theme. Like a mind meandering as a stream carving its course, he allows himself and the reader the beauty of the journey but stops short at the fall. His rational mind cautions and he knows that once on the brink, the only way forward is to return.
So when life seems harsh and men unjust,
Know this is meant to be
And do not hearken to the tunes
Of the wild things running free.
(Where The Wild, Wild Things Run Free)
There are poignant lines that suggest the heroic effort of one resisting ‘the heady pull of seductive suicide’; and flashes of depression. He writes of an entire suicidal episode in Remembered Glory; ‘A terrible anger to destroy’ in Intoxicating; of the ‘Mind’s own endless night’ in Masquerade; and ‘Like the man who talks to himself / To keep from hearing the silence crying,’ in Out of Tune. There is also a keen awareness that success brings both gratification and challenges:
But while each hill when bathed in
Helps uplift our weary mood,
Every summit in the darkness
Is a lonely place to brood.
(To The Hill-T).
There are recurring themes of regret, old age, guilt, falling, loneliness, the pain of beauty and happiness, society as a prison, death, destiny and the world of eternal duty. Juxtaposed as these are with the images of nature — sea of emerald grass, golden hues of the sun, silver skies, mauve twilights — there is a brilliant play of colours and symbols. The symbolism of the moon which heightens distress, or the wind which scatters friends and dreams, hold up the harmony.
Poetry has to be read with intuition. There is lilt and cadence in simple lines that draws the reader in:
When walking in the woodlands,
Listening to the breeze,
Rolling in the meadows,
Talking to the trees.
(Where The Wild, Wild Things Run Free)
Some poems in this collection are too suffused with images and words which could have been gently trimmed to make the narrative taut. But there is much that is beautiful and profound here, as in the poem Rainbow’s End, just as I was growing a little weary of the derivative images, a sudden turn of phrase and thought sprung a fresh surprise:
If you didn’t take things for granted,
Then you’d know which one is true:
Have you been chasing after my gold?
Or has my gold been chasing you?
Sachdev, who admits to being a classicist, has kept to it in form and diction. The poems are peppered with mythical references — Midas, Oedipus, Arthur, Adam, Odin, the tower of Babel, Camelot, magic, rainbows and pots of gold, leprechauns, nymphs, faeries, warriors, travellers and many archaic spellings and expressions like the ‘mead of twilight’, ‘sally forth’, ‘good sir’. The rhyming is a little forced in places and multisyllabic words take away from the fluidity of the poems.
There are images that do not blend well, as in the poem Intoxicating, the leitmotif is of life brewing as wine and yet, in the middle of it comes the clichéd image of the patchwork quilt of memories. In Silent Space and Moonlighting, the first-person narrative changes to the third person abruptly. Even if used as a poetic device, it is to no great effect. Each image, every word, must enhance the core of a poem. This rawness in Sachdev’s craft can acquire a polish with a little help, perhaps from a sensitive mentor.
Some of these poems should certainly find place in modern Indian anthologies. This is a courageous debut collection that validates the fact that poetry heals.
Source : - http://www.deccanherald.com/content/556912/of-silence-crying.html
Emerald Blades: A Haunting Voice That You Must Listen To
I hardly read poetry, though I have five or six books of poetry on my bookshelves which I fully intend to read some day—maybe post-retirement. The only poems I can confidently claim to have read after my Class XII board exams (when reading poetry was somewhat equivalent to dissecting anaesthetised frogs) are by Edward Lear, Ogden Nash and E. E. Cummings. Eliot, Eats (hate that autocorrect—Yeats) and Auden wait in study, glowering.
And then. A few weeks ago, I encountered Emerald Blades by Reijul Sachdev, a 22-year-old engineering student who describes himself as a “borderline schizophrenic”, and says that “in every freak, there lives a Superman”.
Some of the poems of Emerald Blades were mailed to me by his father, who is the sort of friend whom one meets once in every five years. I have met Reijul for a total of about 10 minutes in his (and my) life—once when he was three, and once he was 19. So this is not a plug, when I say unequivocally: Read Reijul’s poems.
I bought the book with my own money when it was published, when I could have easily got a copy from either my friend or the publisher.
End of Disclaimer.
Some of Reijul’s poems will scare you, some of them will enchant you, but all of them will make you look inward.
‘Tis a wonderful feeling,
To stand beside the edge
And wonder as you plummet,
If Fate had carved a ledge?
Herein lies a beauty whose sight
Can scar forever your soul
And wound you with every breath,
While making your life whole.
Reijul’s poems are clearly influenced by the British Romantic poets, especially Keats. Words like “’tis” and “doth” appear frequently. But so do “wild things” and “insanity” and “madness” and “falling”. However, like there is “the edge”, there is also “the sky”. The sensitivity of the poet comes through poignantly. That sensitivity needs to be nurtured as a very precious asset. For he is only 22.
Perhaps I’m being slightly pedantic here, but it’s totally refreshing to read poems that follow certain old-school technical rules. They rhyme! And the poet does not indulge in any stunts and gimmicks that pretend to be art, because the thing today is: If you don’t understand what the hell the poet is saying, you assume it must be some sublime s**t. Whereas in most cases, it’s just s**t
There is a genuinely talented poet here, one who is thoughtful, who intimately knows both love and dread; a mind where light and shadows compete; and also a heart which is truly imaginative (I purposely use the word “heart” and not “mind” here; it’s usually the “mind” which is supposed to be the seat of imagination), a heart that dreams.
There is romanticism, and there is a love for the mythic (references abound to the Iliad and King Arthur and Oedipus), but, I can’t help saying, there is also grave and disquieting disquiet.
Yes, he wakes to setting sun
And never once has cried
Is he who feels the heady pull
Of seductive suicide.
I place the barrel against my temple.
The cold steel sparks off something
And my head is filled with thoughts—
Both of how empty life will now be
And how beautiful every moment was.
I pause—paralysed by indecision.
And then, I remember.
This is a compelling lonely voice, and a voice that is quite its own. There is anguish here, and the paranoia, and the wild things are always round the corner, just out of sight, or just behind you and they will be gone every time you turn around. All existence, all thought systems, have edges, and only a few of us notice them. Those who do, have the choice to avoid them. Only a very few would take that one step that doesn’t land on familiar and unexamined ground, and fall into the haloed abyss, like “a patter of raindrops”.
Reijul’s book of poems is extraordinary. His is an original voice that fearlessly speaks of the questions that trouble him, the demons that haunt him, and the whispers that have occupied his mind and refuse to pay rent. He is only 22. I cannot begin to imagine the threats to our comfort and smugness that he will issue in the next few year.
But then again, that’s happiness:
To find a moment of terrible pain
When saying goodbye to the exquisite,
Source :- http://swarajyamag.com/books/emerald-blades-a-haunting-voice-that-you-must-listen-to