When Renée Saklikar was aged 23, her aunt and uncle were murdered aboard Air India Flight 182. Among the many viewpoints encased in her debut collection, children of air India (Nightwood 2013), she examines why most Canadians still feel more strongly about the 9/11 terrorism attacks that killed New Yorkers rather than the Air India disaster, on June 23, 1985, that killed 329 people, mostly Canadians, making it Canada's worst mass murder. Saklikar's elegiac sequences explore private loss and public trauma, blending fiction and poetry, after a 20-year investigation culminated in a high-profile trial that ended with the accused being acquitted, adding to the pain. The title of her debut collection is uncapitalized and presented as children of air india: un/authorized exhibita and interjections. It won the Canadian Authors Award for best book of Canadian poetry to be published in English and was a finalist for the B.C. Book prize Dorothy Livesay award.

Renée Sarojini Saklikar was named the first Poet Laureate of Surrey in 2015 and also became involved in the administrative hierarchy of the Writers Union, having also co-written an opera on the Air India tragedy as a Canada-Ireland collaboration. In the same year, she co-edited a new anthology with Wayde Compton, The Revolving City: 51 Poems and the Stories Behind Them (Anvil Press) that includes poetry performed during Lunch Poems at SFU, a poetry reading series that she helped to establish. In late October she was featured on the cover of WE, the West Ender , for the opera project, Air India [Redacted], November 6-11, 2015, at SFU Goldcorp Centre for the Arts.

Renée Sarojini Saklikar was born in India but moved to Canada at a young age. A graduate of SFU Writers Studio, she is the wife of former provincial NDP leader Adrian Dix and the daughter of Rev. Vasant Saklikar, deceased, a former B.C. School Trustee and United Church Minister. Portions of her life-long poem chronicle called thecanadaproject have been published in various publications such as Ryga: A Journal of Provocations, Georgia Straight, The Vancouver Review, and Prism International.

***
Listening to the Bees by Mark L. Winston & Renée Sarojini Saklikar
(Nightwood Editions $22.95)

Review by Mary Ann Moore

Mark l. Winston, one of the world's leading experts on bees and pollination, writes in one of his essays: "Science with its reliance on data and objectivity, may seem the least poetic of professions, but scientists and poets have at least one thing in common: we share a love of words and exploration."

Winston's extensive research includes graduate studies at the University of Kansas where he analyzed the mouthparts ("labiomaxillary complex") of long-tongued bees.

Now Winston and Renée Sarojini Saklikar, Poet Laureate for the City of Surrey, have created a "call-and-response rhythm," mixing Winston's essays with Saklikar's poems, for Listening to the Bees. And, yes, they have included a poem entitled "Labiomaxillary."

In french guiana on the north-east coast of South America, Winston observed stingless bees. In recent years, he has become an informal advisor to Hives for Humanity (H4H) in Vancouver's Downtown Eastside.

For twenty years, beginning in 1980, an abandoned building at the edge of SFU downtown became the Bee House where Winston and his researcher students were the Swarm Team.

He continues to learn how bees provide a model for how to be in the world: "collaborative and communicative, listening deeply to others, being present in the moment."

Renée Sarojini Saklikar is a mentor and instructor for SFU's writing and publishing program who spent time with Winston's original research documents. She writes:
"My poetics lean to language as material, and the quest is to marry song, chants, spells and incantations with syntactical wordplay, embroidering the poems I make with numeric patterns, such as my obsession with both hexagons and anything to do with the number six, and the ten-syllable line, whose movement sometimes leads to form poetic structures..." In each form, she allows "lyricism to exist within and alongside the language of science" with less description and more sound.

"Scientific language," says Winston, "becomes poetry for me through the sheer joy of jargon's sound and rhythm." For instance, one of the terms that "evokes personal resonance" is "hibernalcum, a place of abode in which a creature seeks refuge."

There are photos and illustrations throughout the book as well as an appendix of terms related to Winston's published research papers. Alongside Saklikar's poem "Hibernacula" is a photograph of the poet sitting on the back of a garden bench surrounded by blooms and structures in the form of large-winged bees.

Saklikar titles a poem "a moishe (To Mark)" which ends: "into the bee yard / you brought me-and so we whispered / let the song reside in us forever." Mark L. Winston says of collaborating with Saklikar, "her poetry has deepened my own thinking about the science I've done over the last forty-five years." 978-0-88971-346-8

Mary Ann Moore is a poet, and writing mentor in Nanaimo. Her last book was Fishing for Mermaids (Leaf Press) She blogs at apoetsnanaimo.ca

 

Bramah and the Beggar Boy by Renée Sarojini Saklikar
(Nightwood $26.95)

Review by Trevor Carolan

In a new fantasy novel set in the not too far-off future, a band of anti-authoritarian resisters is determined to preserve themselves and a degraded humanity against fearful odds. At stake is nothing less than planetary ecological survival.

The cast contains chiefly female lead characters and the story involves time travel via portals in the Perimeter, a huge post-ecocide territory governed by a brutal force called Consortium. Within the scores of mostly single-page verse accounts—some are longer—we encounter themes involving self and community identity, shifting tides of good and evil and what East-West philosopher Alan Watts (1915–1973) called “overcoming suffering.”

Action takes place largely in “Pacifica,” a coastal region resembling Cascadia. Language has deteriorated, but familiar names arise—Barnston Island, the Albion Ferry, Cedar Cottage, the Rentalsman and more.

Story-time begins at the Winter Portal. The earth is akilter and “spores, viruses [are] spreading.” Masks are important. Droughts, wild fires and melting ice-caps accelerate eco-change.

The parallels with current climate change disasters and our past pandemic year and a half are obvious. But in Renée Sarojini Saklikar’s Bramah and the Beggar Boy, which has been ten years in the making, there’s even more societal devolution.

Something is amiss in this dystopian world—milk won’t curdle, bread won’t rise and an ominous Investigator lurks on behalf of the Consortium, tracking down dissenters to its authority. When the voices of ragamuffin beggar boys call for aid—“Turn your key, Bramah, and find us at last,” Bramah the heroine arrives packing “tools plus lasers, all the latest gadgets.”

With her tattooed arm she’s a “turner of bad odds.” Bramah, we’re told, is part-human, part-goddess, brown and beautiful, and a female locksmith. Like a character from Indic legends she comes from the “far future.” An employee of the Consortium, she can travel in time and is tasked with retrieving a valuable box. But hearing the pleas of young resisters, Bramah goes rogue.

A first critical turn occurs when Bramah and her Beggar Boy sidekick find the box and snitch the contents. Escaping through a time portal, the crafty pair regroup in a Paris cafe. The box contains documents, disks, codes, maps and a parchment scroll of stories that will unfold for future survivors in recalibrating directions for a world gone off-course.

Female elders play critical roles. When the Beggar Boy is brought to Bramah’s grandmother we see the elders’ importance as “seed savers” in a ruined ecology. On their way to visit the elder, Bramah and the boy pass across time, vast earthscapes, diverse languages and cultures.

Among the many story lines in this novel is a group of Aunties associated with “The Wishing Well” who work clandestinely in preserving archival social memory and compiling seed-stocks for climate rehabilitation. There’s loving homage paid to bee-keeping, the joy of pollination, to royal queens and honey’s nutritional goodness—reminiscent of Listening to the Bees, Saklikar’s award-winning 2018 poetry and essay collection co-written with biologist Dr. Mark Winston. Indeed, the poet ranges widely in her idea-sources: a botanical remark references a “Great Companion” echoing Robin Blaser’s phrase for poetic mentors like Dante, Pindar and Robert Duncan in his serial epic The Holy Forest. Saklikar also acknowledges her own imposing lineage of inspiring mentors—Homer, Shakespeare, T.S. Eliot, the Mahabharata, The Arabian Nights and fantasy fiction masters J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, among others.

An adopted beggar-girl, Abigail shapes Part Two. She’ll learn her mother’s story from one of the Aunties and the loveliest poetry in the book comes as a hologram message to the future from her mother—reminding her little survivor girl, “I will be/so silent/I will be that space hidden/... I will be the quiet of a forest/outside the gates/...where a bird sings/liquid/two notes/dropped into morning/ice in the face of a sun/... I will be/so silent/settled along the riverbank/city with its back/to the ocean/at night/a storefront/... I will be/that silent/unending night...”

Like Bramah, Abigail becomes a “purveyor of the artful dodge,” and in borrowing from South Asian religious mythologies, Saklikar’s interconnected heroines become mutually reflective. On meeting her soul-mate Bartholomew, love enters the saga; then after a sparkling exchange of letters we’re off toward second book-land in the poet’s promised trilogy.
Saklikar writes with keen metrical discipline, depicting finely polished images in lean lines that mix manifold verse forms. Expect ballad refrains, tricky codes, romantic letters and terse corporate reports. However, the slurries of poetic fragments she constructs, while skilfully effused, are often as ambiguous as Lucy in The Sky With Diamonds. Perhaps the poet intuits this. An end-note clarifies how her “obsession with formal poetry... finds its creative tension in the investigation of the fragment fused into forms of poetry...”

By nature, fragments are discontinuous; inevitably there’s a challenge in having these clearly understood. The author does provide extensive supplementary information, including a link and a code to an external website providing further back-up to the epic. It makes for busy reading. Some could be reset up front or in-text. Nevertheless, a 300-page verse epic is a formidable achievement.

The author notes that Bramah and the Beggar Boy is the first in a planned 1,000-page saga. Fans of fantasy literature and long-form poetry with a gritty ecological resonance have plenty to look forward to. 9780889714021

BCBW 2021-22

Trevor Carolan’s most recent book is Road Trips: Journeys in the Unspoiled World (Mother Tongue, 2020).

***

BOOKS:

children of air india: un/authorized exhibita and interjections.(Nightwood, 2013) $18.95 978-0-88971-287-4

The Revolving City: 51 Poems and the Stories Behind Them (Anvil Press), co-edited with Wayde Compton. $18 978-1-77214-032-3

Listening to the Bees (Nightwood Editions, 2018), co-authored with Mark L. Winston. $22.95 9780889713468

Bramah and the Beggar Boy (Nightwood, 2021) $26.95 9780889714021

[BCBW 2022] "Air India"