Nirmaldasan's flights of fancy in the poetic
firmament, aptly named `An eaglet In The Skies'
is a compilation of 25 themes with 14
limericks. All of them are well observed
(true to the title) songs of life's many foibles and
hopes expressed succinctly.

Nirmaldasan has intense feeling and
cannot take defeat easily. Some have a morbid
streak as this poem:
When I shall stumble on Time's rock
And fall upon my hidden talent,
Then shall not my thoughts mock
My soul which lieth discontent.

But the limericks of Nirmaldasan
clearly mark him as a poet with
a talent to amuse. They belong
to a class by themselves and show
the poet at his best. They are
humorous, jovial and completely relaxed,
which seems to show the otherside
of his complex personality. Asample:
A teacher kicked a guy called jaws
For finding fault with Newton's laws
Being kicked like a ball
He flew and hit the wall;
But rebounced to affirm Newton's laws.

The verse drama Enchanter Merlin is
interesting not only for the
theme but also for the way Nirmaldasan
has handled it.

Poetry is a dire need of our times when the
mind is weaned from the
stings of myriad pressures modern
life throws on us. It is an escape
outet where the alchemy of emotions
gets crystallised into gold.
Yet it is not escapist as that would divest
the author of his commitment and conscience.

Technique is a nugget of thought
process and is integral to it. An
analysis of the works of poets
will testify to it. Metre in rhymed
verse gives it an ambience of musical
harmony, even if it is written
in Elizabethan idiom.

Nirmaldasan alias Watson Solomon
argues succinctly in his book's
appendix in favour of metre by
beautifully remodifying a piece in
free verse. However the query
he poses - vers libre or metre - is far
less hotly debated now. Poets
settling for metre do either; draw
sustenance from or smart under
the reputation of its supreme
craftsman - William Shakespeare.

Watson's formative years are evident
in the craft which (as he
metaphorises) is able to flap
its wings but is groping for a
destination. It is captured
well in a pleasing rhyme in `November1985':
Still those dead thoughts of mine strive,
Seeking a new frame to survive.

Natural calamities are still a stark
reminder of the impermanence
of life and its forms despite
the upshot of intellectual
insolence technology breeds.

Is it merely the fall of an oak tree
in a storm that the poet sees
in `The Oak and the Reeds'? Rather
it illustrates the mortality of
pride against all-pervasive
elemental energy.

A mini-satire, well-penned, is capped
in the last stanza with
deprecating irony:
And not for long the oak footing found,
Soon humbled came it to kiss the ground.
But the storm spared the reeds, for they bent
With reverence as it past them went.

Music, in a state of tranquility,
is memory's appetiser and a good
concert is sweeter if stored
and savoured at leisure. Alas! mind is
not a computer. Watson's
`Ode on a Recital' falls into a well-
conceived metrical pattern but
its distinctive trait is the flush of
emotion. However music is ethereal
than sensuous and the poet, as he
grows older, might gravitate to this view.

Where he is introspective as in
`When shall I' and a paraphrase of
`Psalm XLI' he is unsparing about
himself and others; but the
anguished cry for healthy relationships
runs through it.

For the same reason he needs
H.G. Wells' Time Machine to return to
the state where God's benediction
could be enjoyed, free from earthly agonies.

Watson has peppered the small,
attractively printed, package with
limericks which has a no-holds
barred appeal. Laced with puckish
humour it raises both a chuckle
and hearty laugh. Here is a gem fora sample:
A pop singer called Bobby Jones,
Once received a shower of stones.
He begged the crowd for time
To sing his own requiem.
Now all that remain are his bones.