Poems from Jaffna | Daily News

Poems from Jaffna

I was asked to speak at the launch of a poetry book in Yaalpaanam when I went to the city recently. This poetry book in English is by a young 17-year-old Tamil girl by name Ahalinie. She called her book A City without Walls - A Smile in the Windfall Published by Anthivaanam Publications, Jaffna.

This is supposed to be the second student’s effort in the peninsula. The first was by Sivapalan. I also remember another young girl, Nuha from Badulla, who has successfully launched her book.

These books are most welcome in the present circumstances, where in times of turbulent crises are written and published by youngsters. The standard of nearly 23 per cent English knowing Lankans is a sad state of affairs.

In the back cover picture Ahilinie quotes this:

Remember, that every flower in the world reflects the rainbow.

Then, what about the colours? Asks somebody.

The poet answers: Colours make us to see them.

This statement may be considered a psychological interpretation.

The book is dedicated to “For my Ransu Amma, who made me a writer and making me a writer,” and adds “I don’t yet most of the times in my own beautiful sphere.”

I would recommend the readers to read the review written by Reynolds Edward for what he thinks about the book, which includes his admiration of the writer’s fluency of language.

I like Ahilini’s note that “Because I believe that every ending is a new beginning. And your ending and beginning, both are in your hands. Make your own choices; it’s all about the eyes.” There are 25 poems in this book. Normally, I do not bother to explain the contents of one’s poetry. I see first if it falls within the genre. In other words, the form is given equal importance.

This is because the writer has the liberty to write free. The wonders of nature He could write anything as he pleases, whether one agrees with him or not. But I make it a point whether the writer succeeds in conveying his or her message to convince the reader.

I see from her writing that she is widely read. She likes the American poet Robert Frost for instance. Good. I understand her girl’s point of view. She is a girl living up to her age, with dreams, fond of music, piano playing, painting, loving the wonders of nature and colours

She is constantly referring to Death, and she wants to be reborn alive with full of love. That’s what I think

She bemoans the present and past. In a way, she is philosophic and psychological. She wants the walls be broken and does not want to claustrophobic. She loves the ocean. She thinks religion is still a sceptical institution. This is how I understand her mind and feelings. As she says it is the mind that interprets even poetry.

My wish is that she should not be abstract and remain disconnected with the people around. She should marshal her thoughts and feelings into concrete terms if she wants to connect with her readers.

But there is ample of time for her to grow into a poet of distinction I am sure, because of her creative ability and the skill in using paradoxical metaphors brings in a celebration of joy, even one view.

Then, her poems are too personal.

There is subtlety in her recordings of social issues. “Great wits are madness near allied ‘’, said Alexander Pope once. Even Ezra Pound’s poems were enigmatic at the beginning. Satire, wit and creative talents will be appreciated when she touches the life of the real people on the earth.

I would like to mention some of the lines I liked.

Like the craves in lilies,

I play the piano in order to paint,

The pale sky in the north corner means me reddish violet,

Flowers are for the living soul,

So remember to pray for the given life,

There is no war, only reflections.

There is no straight line, only curves.

There is no battle, only believes,

Kindness is another grief put into heads of tassels,

like slowing intestine, it would appear though threaten.

Like curves in walls

Lonely lands of coins.

Crushed car

in an earthen pudding,

heated by another green-hearth,

here to move my riddle- light colour of a giant flesh.

Monsters

Monsters crawling the world,

Foams captured her brain,

demented in the sand.

Bliss-the only belief

What do I want to believe?

Impossible and invisible,

I do not believe in belief

whereas religion is another version of doubt.

What a stormy period!

The sky is crying with heavy tears,

Ocean jumps into the sky,

The seabed is dancing, what a stormy period!

City without walls

Whenever I walk through the city with walls,

I found a vast solid ball of creatures.

No more senses and no more memories.

Curled in my hands,

Above all, the old sea has thick water as paper.

From my paper versions…

Old uses similes,

New uses metaphors,

Religion is another version of doubt,

And Life is mysterious solid water paint.

Listen to the song of mind, Life begins with a dream.


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