[ad_1] By Garima Garg Monsoon: A Poem of Love and Longing by Abhay K. Sahitya Akademi, Pages 70, Price – Rs 110, ISBN: 9789355482808 In the day and age of instant messaging and video calls, would you choose the clouds to take your message to a loved one? No, not cloud computing but actual clouds that travel and store up the joy i.e. monsoon within them. After all, the legendary Sanskrit poet Kalidasa did it centuries ago when he wrote his poem Meghaduta. That is precisely what inspired Abhay K., poet and diplomat, after which he did not only translate the poem but also began to imagine what a modern-day version of it may look like. In the mean-time, he also translated Kalidasa’s poem of seasons, Ritusamhara. It follows, then, in his poem Monsoon: A Poem of Love and Longing, where monsoon takes his message from the island nation of Madagascar to the beautiful valley of Kashmir in India, we witness an extraordinary readaptation of Kalidasa’s genius for the present times. In the introduction, Abhay K., who is currently India’s Ambassador to Madagascar, writes that the countries of the Indian Ocean, Africa and Asia have a host of unlikely shared histories that show how they are connected in a variety of ways. The journey, as it unfolds through the one hundred and fifty stanzas (each stanza consisting of four lines) of the poem, is a veritable opera of seasons, biodiversity, geography, history, culture, and of course, the infinite manifestations of humanity itself. It starts with the poet beseeching the clouds in Antananarivo, the capital city of the country where he is currently stationed— lovesick and far away from my beloved, I beseech you to take my message alongwith amorous squeals of Vasa parrotsreverberating songs of Indri Indri (9) the sound of sea waves crashing on coral beachesmating calls of the Golden Mantellasmellifluous chirps of the Red fodysonorous songs of the Malagasy Coucal (10) These verses set the stage ever so magically because they not only hint at the poet’s love and longing for the beloved but also the glory of nature. But unlike Kalidasa, who wrote in the fifth century and likely did not travel out of India, Abhay K. has travelled the world. He shows us the many cascading layers that form a country in the 21st century. For instance, when he writes about Mauritius, he takes us through it from the peninsula of Le Morne Brabant to the pond of Ganga Talao. In doing so, he packs more than what one might expect— help the parasailers soar high at Ile aux Cerfslisten to the sound of the giant waves crashingagainst the volcanic cliffs at La Roche Qui Pleure,pray at Ganga Talao brimming with the holy water (24) bow in reverence to Shiva, seek his blessings —may your journey ahead be smooth,let the serpent around his neck not scare youbeware! his third eye may burn you to cinders (25) if opened in a fit of rageyour journey would end here in Mauritiusleaving millions expecting your auspicious arrivaldevoid of rains, devoid of life, devoid of joy (26) The verses depict the biodiversity of Mauritius and its French heritage and also deftly introduce Hindu mythology. By referring to the statue of the fierce Lord Shiva that stands on the path to the Talao, Abhay K. tells us about the country’s Indian and Hindu diaspora too. He further makes sure to remind us why we need the rains and how they actively foster much of what we understand as life. In this way, he packs a global and wholesome perspective in his poem, which is companioned by copious footnotes. Throughout this awesome journey, the poet warps and wefts the various threads that started their weave from Madagascar’s Antananarivo. So, while in the thirteenth verse, he mentions the country’s native Baobab trees for the first time, in the forty-fifth verse we learn of its descendant in Sri Lanka’s Palk Bay. It is precisely at this point that the clouds of monsoon separate in two directions— some move towards the Bay of Bengal while the rest travel along the Western Ghats towards India’s capital city of New Delhi, where the two eventually merge and travel towards Kashmir. That rain revitalizes our lives after summers is something we know all too well. But nowhere does it manifest with as much as in, well, the City of Joy itself. Abhay K. takes us through the Sundarbans and the coastal city of Kolkata, where the monsoon is nothing short of a festival after the harshest of summers— you would like to stay here longerbut the City of Joy has savoury surprisesawaiting you, relishJhalMuri, Moong Dal KhichdiBainganBhaja, Ghoti Gorom, and Hilsa fry (51) the whole city will come out in the Maidanto celebrate your arrival with great pomp,children will spend the day playing footballjoin them and help them score a goal or two (52) Once again, rains here see more than just people and land. They see different varieties of sea-food and street-food and last but not the least, football! As one of the only regions in India where the sport is popular in an otherwise cricket crazy nation, Abhay K. gently adds a fun detail like a rainbow to his clouds. In another verse, as someone who grew up in Bihar, he strikes a deeper and more personalchord— visit my mother in Chhabilapur and give her my loverecount all you’ve seen, tell her that I’ll be back soon,recharge the waters of the lotus pond at Pawapuriwhere Lord Mahavira rests in deep samadhi(56) Biharis will rejoice upon your arrival listeningto sweet old Bhojpuri songs of their kinsfolkbrought by you from Mauritius and Seychelles,farmers will start sowing paddy singing rain songs (57) and offer you various delicacies—shinghara,dal puri, littichokha, kadhibari, pitha, ghugni,pholourie,peda, laai, chhena, tilkut, anarsa, thekuabatasha, shakkarpara, and khaja, relish these (58) Many of these will be recognized by Indians across the world and for those who don’t, it’s a culinary expedition waiting to be undertaken. But we also learn about the monsoon as the harbinger of yet another