Written by Hannah Dang with support from the DAC Team
Tuesday, April 2, 3:45-5:15 P.M.
On a quiet Tuesday evening, Asian American writer and publisher Azad Ashim Sharma sits his audience members down for a small poetry reading at the Asian American Cultural Center (AsACC) on the fourth floor of UConn’s Student Union. As soon as we enter AsACC’s Main Room, we each receive our own copy of Azad’s newly released poetry book, Boiled Owls. The book cover is especially striking – a streaky red owl painted on a black cover, eyes, a brighter tone of red, slashed, representing capitalism’s hand in being responsible for stirring up consumerism culture and mass production. As Sharma perpetuates, consequently, people become deluded by material possessions and false promises of fortune to see the full picture clearly, the slow poisoning of their society. From the second the book comes into my hands, I know we are in for something special. The room settles as soon as Azad Ashim Sharma makes his presence known, and as if I am an animal with a sixth sense, the air seems to shift.
Following an introduction containing an impressive amount of degrees, certificates, and titles, Sharma spins the conversation from being about him to the purpose of the event – a poetry reading of Boiled Owls.
I did some research and apparently, “Boiled Owls refers to an old colloquialism: to be as boiled as an owl, to be drunk.” As Sharma clarifies, the poetry collection resulted from his experiences as a drug addict, an alcoholic, and as he humorlessly stated with mirth in his eyes, his compulsion to write. Taking approximately six years to write and publish, the poetry book tackles a variety of themes including but aren’t limited to: capitalism against socialism, drug addiction and alcoholism, social media addiction, depression, anxiety, and the slow, nonlinear process of recovery with the support of his loved ones, specifically Sharma’s brother and mother.
Playing into his “drunkenness” metaphor, Sharma asks us, “At the end of the world, will we, as a society, be inebriated or sober?”
In other words, Sharma is propagating that capitalism is the root of avarice and will lead the world to ruin because people will be conditioned to value their material possessions, as well as themselves, over the wellbeing of others. This is a universal truth as capitalism is subtly conquering the economies of several countries and becoming commonplace. Capitalism targets weak-hearted individuals who, jaded by the world, believe power and wealth will be the cure to their afflictions. That thinking spreads as quickly as a contagious disease and will destroy a society from the inside out.
Sharma picks the following poems from his collection to share: “Venlafaxine” (a type of antidepressant and nerve pain medication), “Comedown Muzik” (comedown: a loss of status or importance, muzik: someone who enjoys all types of music), “Taking a Walk,” “Planetary Death is a Hopeless Drug Addict” (shares a story about him and his autistic younger brother), “Birthday Song,” “Sri Aurobindo Says Addicts Are Young Hegelians” (Sri Aurobindo: an Indian philosopher, poet, and journalist, Hegelian: a follower of the German philosopher, Hegel), and “The Image is My Life” and “Xenobia,” both of which are poems about Sharma’s mother (Xenobia: “Of Zeus” or a pun on xenophobia – a fear of strangers and the unknown).
At the end of the poetry reading, Sharma kickstarts a cozy Q&A session. As I sit there, listening attentively, I think to myself – although Sharma is sharing his poetry and speaking to us live in an open, public space, it makes the setting all the more intimate. As if we are around a campfire, we make conversation, share stories and laughter, bonded by our communal love for poetry.
In response to a question regarding his writing, Sharma explodes my head in only six words: “Art isn’t like an ATM.” You can spend hours at a desk, racking your brain, and your paper can still be blank. There isn’t a deadline to complete a piece of writing. Writing isn’t meant to be used for monetary gain. Interpretations of his words went a hundred different ways in my head, and I knew, as soon as I was home, I’d be opening my computer immediately to discover more about the enigma named Azad Ashim Sharma.
TWITTER: @azad_ashim
WEBSITES:
PREORDER BOILED OWLS: Preorder Site
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