re:Virals 480

Welcome to re:Virals, The Haiku Foundation’s weekly commentary feature on some of your favorites among the best contemporary haiku and senryu written in English. This week’s poem, chosen by Vidya Premkumar, was:

a junction without signboards my palm
—Chidambar Navalgund
 the sound of healing, ed. Shloka Shankar, Yavanika Press, 2022

Introducing this poem, Vidya writes:

I chose this monoku because it encapsulates the essence of ambiguity and agency. The junction represents a critical moment of choice or crossroads in life, while the lack of signboards suggests an absence of guidance, direction, or certainty. The metaphor of the palm introduces a deeply personal element, often associated with destiny, individuality, or the lines that chart one’s path.

The juxtaposition of external confusion (a signless junction) with internal potential (the palm) suggests an introspective moment where the speaker must rely on their own instincts or inner compass to navigate life’s uncertainties. The monoku resonates with themes of self-determination and the unpredictability of human experience, urging the reader to reflect on the tension between external circumstances and internal agency.

I hope this verse resonates with readers too.

Opening comment:

It’s often hard to take decisions at a conjuncture of life where there are serious choices,  each of which seems to carry attractions as well as fears.  Sometimes people resort to ‘alternative’ sources to help them decide: such as astrology or, as here, chiromancy.  These may rest on superstition but can influence a person to feel more comfortable, or less comfortable, about a particular choice.  Personally,  with an education in science,  I would place no more weight on them than I would toss a coin to decide upon marriage.  Indeed,  by way of experiment I once called on a fortune-teller whose sign in a third-floor window I passed on my frequent walk from the UK Misson to the UN to UN Headquarters in New York read: “Advice on all the problems of life: $5.”  Needless to say, although it was a long while ago the $5 was more of a down payment.  She asked what I wanted to know.  However, she was not only unable to answer my question on how the following day’s vote on the Falklands in the General Assembly would go, but was angry I had asked it, as only a hardbitten NY fortune-teller could be.  So I had to settle for another $5 for my palm to be read, to be told my love life would be long and unsettled.

I rather liked the fortune-teller.

Amoolya Kamalnath:

One wonders where in the world this junction without a single signboard is and starts wracking one’s brains to recollect if ever one such was sighted anytime anywhere. All the countries and cities in the globe are scanned and scrutinized. However, the fragment ‘my palm’ brings one back to oneself, after having gone on a trip around the world in those few seconds.

How is my (the poet’s) palm a junction? Is it that the narrator is holding another’s palm and walking them? Or guiding them from darkness towards the light?

The lines on our palms intersect each other and at many a place, they seem like junctions. However, as the verse states, there are no signboards to indicate to anyone what each line or intersection means or where each line is (supposedly) headed towards. What do each of these lines and junctions mean?

Harrison Lightwater:

I am not sure what the poet means. The image is of lines that cross on a palm which some people believe show the length of life and other characteristics of the person whose palm it is. The lines are seen as signs.

The poet on the other hand (sorry about the pun) states that there is at least one point where the lines cross where there are no signs, or maybe that all the lines are junctions with no signs. This suggests that he is not a believer in palmistry.

It is possible that whether a person believes in palmistry or not, they may be influenced by a palm reading so that their future behaviour tends to be shaped to meet its predictions.

I was left with the feeling that this one line senryu was also without direction, to be honest, so it could be said that the line fits the subject.

Melissa Dennison—a leap of faith where we hope for the best:
I like the ambiguous nature of this monocular. What could it mean?

a junction without signboards my palm

My initial interpretation is of standing at a junction or a crossroads with a decision to make. Could this be a metaphor for life? Which way do I go? What will happen if I go in this direction or that one? What is there to guide me? In this monoku there is an absence of signboards, which makes it harder to make this choice. As in life there is often nothing available to help us make a big life decision. It is a leap of faith where we hope for the best.

Does the writer look at their palm for assistance? Could they have had it read recently by a fortune teller? My Grandma would visit fortune tellers regularly to assuage her anxieties about life. She always carried a charm in her purse.

What might the lines on a palm reveal? Is this a helpful process that offers reassurance in a challenging world or does a belief in a future that is pre ordained simply add to life’s confusion?

Author Chidambar Navalgund:
The poem reflects the experience of navigating life’s uncertainties without clear guidance, akin to interpreting one’s palm at an unmarked crossroad. The initial idea came from observing palm readers making predictions, and how, in reality, we often create our own karma unknowingly—without the signboards or directions we might hope for.

Thanks to all who sent commentaries. As the contributor of the commentary reckoned best this week, Melissa has chosen next week’s poem, which you’ll find below. We invite you to write a commentary to it. It may be short, or of moderate length, academic, your personal response, spontaneous, or idiosyncratic.  As long as it focuses on the verse presented, and with respect for the poet, all genuine reader reaction and pertinent discussion is of value.   Out-takes are kept in the THF Archives.  Best of all, the chosen commentary’s author gets to pick the next poem.

Anyone can participate. Simply use the re:Virals commentary form below to enter your commentary on the new week’s poem (“Your text”) by the following Tuesday midnight, Eastern US Time Zone, and then press Submit to send your entry. The Submit button will not be available until Name, Email, and Place of Residence fields are filled in. We look forward to seeing your commentary and finding out about your favourite poems.

Poem for commentary:

     
gardener's gloves
soaked with robin song
and sage
 
Marilyn Ashbaugh, Blithe Spirit, vol 34, no 1

The Haiku Foundation reminds you that participation in our offerings assumes respectful and appropriate behavior from all parties. Please see our Code of Conduct policy.

Footnote:

You may read the entire chapbook here.

Bio:
Chidambar Navalgund, from Belagavi, India, is a Criminology graduate and works as a Social Media Manager for various chess organizations. His interests include visual and found poetry, collage, and photography. Chidambar’s work has appeared in publications such as Unlost Journal, Failed Haiku, whiptail: journal of the single-line poem, Under the Basho, Unstamatic Magazine, tinywords, Otoliths, and Prune Juice. His debut chapbook, the sound of healing, was published by Yavanika Press in 2022. He aspires to be a civil servant.

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In case anyone is interested, I have found the best approach to life’s major junctions has been to write down honestly all the advantages and disadvantages of the choices, take your decision, and then live with it a week or two (time permitting) without telling anyone, to see whether in your heart you remain content with it.  Doesn’t stop you making some mistakes, though.  Don’t look back…