Mythic narratives have lasting power. They have a way of cropping up in altered contexts at different periods of human history, to give us models of interpretation that help us to make sense of our own times, our own individual experiences. Through the ages, the ancient story of Medusa continues to inspire poets crossing the barriers of time, place, history and culture. For instance, another new book of poems just published by Nandini Sahu is titled “Medusa”. Is this sheer coincidence? I think not. I feel it has something to do with the haunting persistence and continued relevance of the Medusa myth in our collective memory.

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In Greek myth, the beautiful Medusa is raped by Poseidon and cursed by Athena, who transforms her into a monster with serpent hair, whose gaze turns men to stone. In modern times, Medusa remains a disturbing, ambivalent figure. In traditional versions, she is reviled for seducing a god and using her magic powers to threaten the male establishment. But Medusa has also been appropriated by feminists who see her as an icon of woman power and a classic example of victim-blaming in cases of sexual violence. Sangeeta’s poem “Medusa 1” challenges such hypocrisy:

 

Medusa, you were betrayed by the gods

they called you a demon though

Your innocence, your purity of the body

and the soul was violated                                  (1)

 

In this book, the myth of Medusa becomes the inspiration for a deeper, reflective inward journey from suffering and victimization to resistance, reinvention of the self and the eventual triumph of the spirit. Patriarchy is challenged, and the creative imagination, especially poetry itself, plays an enabling role in this journey.

These themes have appeared before in Sangeeta’s poetry. In Rise from Your Ashes, for instance, the title poem deploys mythic imagery, invoking the Phoenix to speak of resilience and new beginnings:

 

rise, rise from your ashes

be reborn

I give you new wings to fly

sing for me                                (“Rise from your Ashes”)

 

Medusa and Other Poems (2024), develops these themes, using the mythic figure of Medusa to argue that the pain inflicted by others can act as a challenge that paradoxically enables  a new self-empowerment. In another previous book, Hymn to Trees, Sangeeta had asserted the redemptive power of poetry:

 

a poem is not an escape

it’s a window for you

to redeem

to transform

yourself

a poem is your rescue. (“Thousands of truths”)

 

In Medusa and Other Poems, too, the poet deploys myth to reiterate the power of poetry and the will to survive on one’s own terms, in defiance of restrictive societal norms.

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Beginning with woman-centred poems on the Medusa myth, this book subsequently broadens out to embrace the larger philosophy of survival itself. The resources for the struggle for survival are located in the inner spaces of mind, heart and soul. For the poems demonstrate that the process of dealing with trauma and alienation can bring new wisdom and inner strength. In this process of self-renewal, adversity can paradoxically prove an asset, and “breakdown” can lead to “breakthrough”. The poem “You are Still Alive”, addressed to Medusa, celebrates her resilience and her ability to transform trauma into triumph: “you turned your breakdowns/ into breakthroughs/ you rediscovered yourself/ you reinvented/ ways to survive” (6). The poem “Know That (6)” informs us,

 

Your worst breakdown

can be your biggest breakthrough

know that you have the power

and potential to turn

your fate around                       (35)

Transformation begins from within.

 

Although the book is ostensibly about Medusa, in many poems we hear the poet speak in the first person about relationships, emotions and inner life. Sangeeta is not only a poet but also a visual artist and filmmaker. Her poems turn the page into a verbal canvas on which the patterns of life and love unfold in manifold designs. In the poem “Artist’s Dilemma”, she describes in words the painter’s struggle with her medium:

 

Was just wondering

How to paint pain

About its tonal composition

What colours to use

How to express it …                   (77)

 

But Sangeeta’s poems prove she is adept at painting pain in words. In “I Allow Myself” she writes:

 

I allow myself

to stay in my void

for some more time

to let pain settle

in my cells and bones

to let grief sink in

to learn the lessons

taught by life …             (41)

 

In Sangeeta’s creative inner world, silence occupies a dimension beyond words: “embrace the silence/ know thy self”, she says (“I Always Wanted”, 70). In the final pages of the book, the writing process itself becomes a subject of her writing. The creative imagination, she reminds us, takes us to levels beyond the rational: “you witness/ the madness first hand” (“Creative Process”, 78). In the final lines, she addresses her fellow poets directly, insisting that silence and emptiness are central to the poetic process: “days of blankness and void/ are part of the journey too/ keep your journal handy/ at all times my dear poet” (78).