Pain gives identity to life

Adarsh Ajit
Unlike most of her contemporaries, Sunita’s poetry is mostly revolving around human relationship. Her book of poetry Tsoppi Hindy Aalav is also a display of existential echelon with respect to the laws of nature. The intensity of love, pain, separation, aspirations, meeting and above all the quest for eternal love portrayed by Sunita straightway penetrates through the soul. Nevertheless, grave problem arises due to the deceptive faces of the time, space and the persons involved. People are under chameleon sheaths.  Behavioural attitudes prick. History has been re-written with unexpected and false turns. The writers snatch original characteristics and deny their existence. Registering her reverse remarks Sunita mocks that her fellow-residents   are beautiful but are having ugly actions at their back. Most unfortunate is Sunita’s apprehension of giving iconic Lal Ded a different facet. She believes that the time is a great healer but seeing her own bleeding wounds, she also doubts its intentions:
By reading the first poem, we can guess Sunita Raina’s diction, evolving thought process, style, level of creativity, language, objectivity and word connectivity. Even by avoiding usage of difficult words, she maintains traditional legacy. She wants an escape through the tornado. Losing hope to meet her beloved, she on the one side, is shedding tears silently for a long awaited look, and, on the other side, wants a carefree evening and a ‘yes.’  She feels unpredictable about her existence yet she affixes herself in delusion. She fears that the engulfing fire will weaken her. She is scattered like a fistful of pearls. She visualises her identity given by HIM/him but leaving her speechless:
Sunita has also idealistic and dreamy romantic lexicon. She romanticises the night, the moon, the cliffs and the bride. Using impressive terminology she asks her beloved to stitch the lips when his cheeks turn reddish and as against this when she will speak, the lips shall melt. She advises him not to keep her sequences for counting before he erases the black dots impacted on his hem first. Under all circumstances, the poet retains and sustains all the miseries, while the beloved casts away even the feeling of her pain. Sunita divulges that bushes full of thorns have the feel of pride due to their flowers and consequently the glowing moth feels ecstatic and frenzied. She herself feels that the feeling of his presence is a proof of being alive and advises her beloved to prick his eccentricity for making an extraordinary prediction.
Sunita comments that the scars can never be erased by washing. These are un-washable. These are the incurable gashes. She questions if anyone has the idea of even the traces of giving a healing-touch?  Though there is no positivity visible yet she questions if losing in a battle is any solution. The blemishes left after the burning of a soul will definitely stain her beloved’s existential canvass also. The vision has no value if it has black dots behind it.
Pain is bliss for the poet. It gives peace and identity to life. A human without the feeling of pain is as good as dead. Believing that the crowds have stammered the language of the past otherwise the pain of her disease is running in the beloved’s veins occasionally. The leaders do not lift the eyelids. It is not a childish play to do the justice with the past. But how would one kill the reality? The truth is rooted in all the layers. It is unfortunate that there is no appreciation for the shade of a chinar. Hence the winds are untrustworthy. Though the ages are devouring the fire, yet she should meet. No doubt, the way is far away and the whirlpool of confusion is there but she would meet even though there is no meeting place.
Before analysing, investigating and advising we should scan and post-mortem cross-section of society ourselves. The sharp eyesight without a vision is meaningless. Though the poet spends the night by believing that a blissful morn will come but she wants a care-free childhood. When the curse accesses the world then the personal happening loses value and childhood vanishes. Sunita defines and explains the ocean with the definition of drops. Recognizing herself in nothingness, she has complaints against many.
Poet’s secrets are on the roads. The shedding of tears has assumed the shape of art for some. Deafness is a sign of dead feelings.  The deserts cannot become blooming gardens. Sunita castigates those who on one side are believers of saints but on the other side, they erode the realities that are scripted on the stones. Walled city of Sunita has become the hub of businesspersons acting like jugglers. There is no trace of trust. She fears death before her birth. She has nothing to offer, as the land is full of gunpowder. She wants someone to change her destiny.