Jaydeep Sarangi (India)

 
Jaydeep Sarangi (India)
 
Jaydeep Sarangi, often tagged as the “Bard on the banks of Dulung”, is a widely anthologized and reviewed bilingual poet with eight collections in English, the latest being Heart Raining the Light (2020 ) released in Rome. Sarangi has read his poems in different shores of the globe. He conducted workshops on poetry writing in different universities in Australia, India, Italy and Poland. With Rob Harle, he has edited six anthologies of poems from India and Australia. He is the President, Guild of Indian English Writers Editors and Critics(Kerala) and Vice President, Executive Council, IPPL, ICCR, Kolkata. He is the Principal of New Alipore College, Kolkata,India and involved in poetry movement for social change.
 
 
A Sense of Rainy Days
 
Rain disappears
dancing joyously on long wires like a rope – dancer.
whichever weather rolls on
gives all cloudy juices
creating a land of poetic romance
where coy fairies descend to dance.
 
The ship sets off on her maiden voyage.
The voyagers carry their memory luggage.
Everything that takes place in the dark theatre.
foreshadows the mysteries of nature,
night’s normal acts
 
My ill-timed sleep
breaks, secret doors
howl through
the night , looking
for its mother.
 
 
 
Rain in My House of Poems
 
After a good spell of rain
I want my ideas to change.
Like clothes, to take them off
and the poem, I shall get her back.
 
I begin to speak in my tongue
eye to eye, page after page, faithfully.
 
 
 
All for a Name
 
All living thinking heads
All beings that breathe,
Everything our senses perceive,
Even those which lie outside
Where our consciousness reside
Are given a name and rightly so.
 
The webs move.
An appellation or a pseudonym
Works wonders. A tag.
A right name is worth, dignity and character,
A wrong one deprives us of hues.
 
Even a bard needs a proper name
To run wild among the trees. To see a
Place far within this deep piercing night.
 
 
 
Your Absences
 
All that’s left are these
rites and distancing, imprinted
on the road: graffiti,
and air of warning, the news
of someone not coming
home today. Not even tomorrow.
 
 
I pass over them,
thinking about the doorway doll
and pets to take for a drive, hoping
it will make a difference:
My daughter and I can recount after the pandemic.
Sometime in an erratic rain, early November cold.
 
 
 

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