No Rhododendron: A book review by Dr. Tulasi Aacharya
No Rhododendron (University of Pittsburgh Press , 2025), a poetry collection by Samyak Shertok
Poetry of meditation and philosophy from the foothills of Himalaya
“No Rhododendron” by Samyak Shertok the winner of the Donald Hall Prize for Poetry is a collection of inventive imageries deriving from the poet’s origins and travels in an encapsulating manner, becoming relatable and rapturous. His poetry evokes meditation-like feelings at the foothills of the Himalayas. Moreover, his works are experiments on subjects, syntax, similes, and structure. The letter “X” that doesn’t leave each section in the collection carries the theme from the start to finish. The “X” becomes like a target and sacred thread with beads that binds the whole book together.
The “X” remains more than symbolic and becomes history, origin, legacy, healing power, a spell, worshipping rosary like beads, and tall tales. Eventually, it becomes a pure mantra that holds each page of the collection. His poems meander like a pious river in a meditative rhythm and become an absolute marvel across each page. His words flows flawlessly and purely like the waters of the Himalayas, sneaking and snaking through the magnificent and magical landscape filled with flora and fauna, medicinal herbs, ethnic and cultural rituals and richness. His poetry glistens with rustic lives and daily chores of this mountainous world.
Aama and Apa, his parents, in this collection, turn into strong imageries that are being carried throughout the poems. His poetry meditates on the Maoist revolution and how it encroached the humble and peaceful life of the village marring its serenity; thus, “No rhododendron”, the national flower of Nepal becomes a strong symbol, not only the symbol of love and beauty and redness and nationalistic fervor, but also the symbol of revolution and bloodshed.
Divided in six sections, the first poem entitled “Mother tongue: A Haunting” underscores the Tamang root reflecting on the ghost imageries in the speaker’s dream. It is so powerful and personal when the speaker says:
“If to speak one’s mother tongue is to keep one’s mother alive,
I kill my mother daily.” (p.5)
In Shertok’s poetry, a part becomes a whole, a distinct philosophy the Upanishads entails. He writes:
“My ghosts, my tongue, my home, my mother, my always: a dream.” (p.5)
The forms in the poems cohere with the content. For example, in “In a Time of Revolution,” he becomes prosaic and imperative, yet poetic, and at the same time, Tamang culture, dreams, mother tongue, and ethnic origin resonate profoundly. The unique form he utilizes is each sentence begins with the letter “X.” The meaning of X or in numeric number10 derives from Buddhist philosophy that is dominant in Tamang community, the philosophy that ranges from sufferings to enlightenment. The whole section under X narrates a story that transcends from the earth to the sky, from the suffering to the enlightenment, from the life to the Nirvana that revolves around the story of the speaker’s Apa. The bond of father and son is deeply and visually pronounced, and the Buddhist philosophy or the chant “Oh mani padme hun” continues to recur throughout the poetry, along with the blend of Hindu myth and allusions here and there. The story of grief, loss, nostalgia, love and remembrance embrace his father-son poetry.
Besides all of this, he invents a hybrid poetry form that combines ghazal and a haibun, prose followed by a verse, replaces the haiku with a ghazal couplet. For example, the poem “Operation Rhododendron: A Ghazabun” begins with lean prose and ends thus:
“Here lie one hundred and eight golden jackals whose names were writ in tears.
The forest will swallow the howl, the gold the crows will remit in tears. (p.49)
Imageries in his poetry are powerful, inventive and mesmerizing. In the poem “Song in a time of revolution,” he writes, “my left foot had a bullet hole” (50). The beauty lies in how the poem ends in hope and resurrection.
The power of his poetry lies not only in his visual imageries, but also in conveying olfactory and gustatory feelings. His poems feed the senses they are good for sound, great for taste buds.
At times, he is humorous when he defines his own name:
… the only Lama word I still remember:
Sertok…
The Hindu Sirs who spoke only Devanagari heard Sher: lion.
… Sher-Tok. Lion, bite! (70).
Similarly, weaving local myth and stories in his poetry serves a magical and insightful purpose in which any reader across languages and cultures will be immensely delighted. His poetry ranges from his pure love for his parents to the country ravaged during the Maoist revolution to personal identity to the Kathmandu city to the journey from Nepal Himalaya to all the way to the United States of America to diasporic meditations and a longing for home: Here is one:
Home, alive, valley for fireflies, double by each half-light
Sea landlocked, land seaborne; reborn, a burning: home (87).
In this collection, thirty-three poems have found their home, and each is equally rapturous. The poem with the eponymous title is full of imagery. However, at times, “they” remains a touch abstract and that becomes the beauty of poetry, helping and enabling the reader contextualize according to where the poem pulls in time and space and place.
Dr. Tulasi Acharya is a Nepali-English writer, academic, and researcher whose work spans both creative and scholarly realms. He is the author of the novel Running from the Dreamland and Sex, Desire, and Taboo in South Asia. Acharya holds a PhD and MFA and teaches English at South Georgia State College. and Nepal. His writing reflects themes of migration, identity, and socio-cultural issues, and he is particularly passionate about exploring marginalized voices in global contexts, gender, and sexuality. Like Water on Leaves of Taro is his most recent memoir. Website: www.tulasiacharya.com, Twitter/X: @tulsirames
