Mid-Week Global Poetry Series: Purvi Shah

Purvi Shah by Willi Wong

[I met Purvi Shah many years back at a creative project called Tributaries in which visual artists responded to two books of poetry. One of the books was Terrain Tracks (New Rivers Press, 2006), from which the below poem is extracted. It explores migration as potential and loss, won the Many Voices Project prize and was nominated for the Asian American Writers' Workshop Members' Choice Award in 2007. I remember being thrilled with her readings and her, as a person. For Purvi is more than a poet. She is the winner of the inaugural SONY South Asian Social Services Award in 2008 for her work fighting violence against women. In 2011, she served as Artistic Director for Together We Are New York, a community-based poetry project to highlight the voices of Asian Americans during the 10^th anniversary of 9/11. Her fb microblogposts has served as my guiding light on many a dark day and night.

Find more of her work at http://purvipoets.net or follow her for twitter poetry @PurviPoets. You can buy her book via Flipkart.com.]

NOTE: The following poem can be best understood if readers would go through the below link that provides the context of the poem.

Page 1: http://www.indiaabroad-digital.com/indiaabroad/20110916/?pg=39#pg39

Page 2: http://www.indiaabroad-digital.com/indiaabroad/20110916/?pg=39#pg40

In the distant light, you witness potential

(In memory of Swarna, beloved Sakhi

volunteer and advocate for women)

Light dissolves in black holes, destined

for disappearance’s course, or so proclaim

the many books we have memorized. But new

knowledge flickers: scientists say room

for escape is possible —

matter and energy are not stamped out

but glimmer faintly.

You were kindled not in the cosmic explosion

but from the body’s blood and labor’s fire, new form

that we name girl or lady or woman.

When the day grows dark and you brisk

through concrete streets, rushing home to feed

three kids, or are drained from ten hours

of repetitive work, or feel anxious by the borders

of your wallet, as you long for trees, a hand

of comfort, or quiet in your head, do you gaze

upwards to the stars, seek to join their company,

chart constellations for an escape?

Some days you imagine yourself a thin iron filing, tugged

by magnets: family, marriage, money. In the evenings

you turn to the stars, admiring. Soon you observe

new flares, begin counting them as distant family. You discover

inside yourself, a thought, a spark, and you begin clawing

your way forward, your way beyond. In the journey, you meet sisters,

glow in the cluster of energy. Together you clench

against disappearance, cheer in transformation, turn

to seize the stirrings of survival and creation.

(first published in Terrain Tracks, New Rivers Press, 2006)