‘Absent People, Absent Places’: Saranya Subramanian’s poetic language is ingenious and at ease

Beneath the deepening indigo of the night sky, shadows huddle under open umbrellas, conversing quietly. A soft drizzle falls. The earth is hushed, as though at the beginning of the universe. A postcard slips into my hand. It reads, “outside the window: a serpentine trail/ of sunlight. soft flames river their way/ towards our home. we are here,/absent people, visible at night. i am here, an absent person, but i am still here, sitting still. still waters/ freeze in fear. outside, the hate speech / gets louder. hate, i learn, is not those mobs that ash people down. it is / the casual shrug of the unaffected; /a single spark of apathy that, once lit,/ can burn an entire forest down.”

Cityscapes and people

Saranya Subramanian’s debut collection of poetry, Absent People, Absent Places, opens with a question that confronts the apathy and anxiety of the times we inhabit. Her poetic language stands out for its ingenuity and ease, at once contemplative and nonchalant. “We are swept away by the frantic need to do, and do/ now. Our love for languages-his, math, mine, poetry-constantly jostles against /our maya-driven, caffeinated legs perpetually/ running to grey offices and grey meetings./ Such is the fate of those of us who...

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