triveni spotlight A FEATURE EVERY ALTERNATE DAY! hosts: Teji Sethi and Kala Ramesh guest editor: Geethanjali Rajan
theme: listening
deafening rain — to think it has no sound
of its own
Kashinath Karmakar, India
(18th Kusamakura Haiku Contest)
Note by the editor: The theme for June 2022 is ‘listening’. I hope you enjoy the music, sounds, and silences of nature in these showcased poems of close observation.
What a wonderful expression of the rain's agency, its pum-pum voice when it hits pavement, trees, umbrellas. Were it not for the rain, these objects would be silent. Really lovely ku.
deafening rain—
the appaloosa rears in her stall my grandfather’s soothing hands
deafening rain — to think it has no sound of its own
Kashinath Karmakar, India
Preface to a 5000-Word Rant on a 13-Syllable Poem
Why is “deafening rain” such an evocative poem? Why did it keep me up all night thinking about a poem about thinking? Not because it’s about the rain, nor the sound of rain, nor the silence between falling raindrops. On reflection, I came to realize the poem is more about surface, about shelter; about the impact of raindrops on a rooftop, an umbrella, a big red bus, a banyan tree, the top of the skull of a barely-clad ascetic standing out in the weather on the Ganga ghat. . .
And…
This is so beautiful... Thank you.
Reminds me of one my poems - not a haiku though - it has been published in my collection. Sharing here:
Hiding
behind the wall of silence,
listen, to the deafening echoes
of all that
remains
unspoken
We give sounds and voice to 'things'/forms/happenings around us. Little do we realise that these things have sounds, a variety of distinctive voices, regardless of what we attribute to them. Having said this, it is also true that something has a certain voice or sound, and thereby, an identity, because each of us perceives that 'thing'/form in a certain singular way. The interplay between sound and silence in this haiku is superb. 'deafening rain' -- a lovely image, a sound that submerges all others, so much so that there is silence at the core of all that overwhelming sound.
This ku made me reflect, made me pause. Beautiful! Thank you, Geethanjali.