“The Lie of Dawns Poems 1974-2008" - by Jayanta Mahapatra

      I have issued a book “The Lie of Dawns” from the library of Department of English, M K Bhavnagar University. The book is the collection of poems written during 1974-2008, by Jayanta Mahapatra.

The book is divided into five parts,

One: The Sad Green of Bamboo Groves

Two: A Naked Cowardice

Three: Arrow to the Heart

Four: Shores of Darkness and Light

Five: The Lie of Dawns

    In this blog, I have selected a poem “Pain” from the first part.

Pain

The dark tree that stands

Over the fields of my blood

Has failed to leaf and bud.

Why must it cut across my blood?

I must try to understand it well.

Pursued over and again

By the sky’s heights,

It holds itself fast to the mist of time,

Giving my mind little rest, small shelter.

Where are the inessential leaves

That commanded the heart,

Disturbing those clouds which only are

The secrets of the sky?

When will my eye return,

That has been swallowed by the sky?

What ceremony veils its world?

        The poem is about pain. It is the process of pain, it rises from the blood and it grows from the blood of our heart. Poet has compared the pain and its increasing with tree. The feeling of pain grows and grows.... higher and higher.... but with the help of our blood. When we feel the pain then only it can increase. We put efforts in the process of pain.

    

      The poet says that the tree has failed to have any leaf and bud. The tree is not productive, but it sucks a blood to grow. The poet has also a question that why the tree has cut across his blood. The answer could be that poet has allowed the tree to enter in his heart, as we allow pain to enter and hurt our feelings. Sometimes the pain crosses the limits and we experience it at its heights,  but extreme pain leads to pleasure. Our life is full of secrets and that secrets lead us to pain. The secrets of sky are clouds and those clouds are disturbed by the tree of pain.

     

     The feeling of extreme pain covers our vision. The sky which indicates the life and clouds are secrets which swelled the vision of the poet. In this poem there are several questions asked by the poet. The last question is “What ceremony veils its world?” may be the poet is questioning himself or the world. The process of hiding covers the world of our pain.