Moving for Moksha by Alok Mishra, a detailed book review

Alok Mishra’s Moving for Moksha is not merely a poetry collection. It is a philosophical journey in verse, an introspective pilgrimage that resonates with an urgent intensity and a purposeful calm, much like the ancient texts it echoes silently. Composed of fourteen interwoven poems, this collection assumes the form of a spiritual discourse—sometimes personal, sometimes universal—evoking the longing for liberation, the oscillation between desire and detachment, and the undying pursuit of meaning. In its rhythm, themes, and tone, Moving for Moksha converses not only with Indian literary traditions but also aligns itself with international voices that have sought to probe the depths of human existence.

Mishra’s voice is both rooted and cosmopolitan. On the one hand, his poetry borrows liberally from Indian spiritual traditions, including the Bhagavad Gita, Upanishads, and the broader ethos of Sanatan Dharma. On the other hand, it communicates a global poetic sensibility that reminds readers of T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets or even Rilke’s existential inquiries in Duino Elegies. However, while Eliot framed his exploration of time, redemption, and consciousness in a language of obliquity and philosophical abstraction, Mishra allows his verses to flow with an accessible urgency and almost devotional transparency. The poem “And I took an objective leap of faith” exemplifies this rare blend. The lines:

“From the eternally pregnant womb of Gita
to enchanting verses of scriptures so old,
we began to walk a path least taken
to learn and discover the thoughts of gold.”

clearly establish a spiritual framework that is at once poetic and pedagogic, gently guiding the reader into realms usually addressed by saints and sages. The invocation of “Gita” is neither ornamental nor performative; it is central to the poetic mission of this collection: to explore life as a karmic duty leading toward moksha, the final liberation.

There is also a compelling biographical presence behind these poems. Alok Mishra’s admission that this collection originated as a birthday offering to someone named Nidhi gives the poems an underlying tenderness. While the reader is not given full access to this personal narrative, the dedication offers context to the emotional cadences of the work. In the poem “We moved on, me and her,” this emotional undertone becomes particularly poignant:

“With usual halts, pause and impediments
that we created on our way, we walked
the path that we chose
and a path that had no destination.”

This fusion of the personal and the philosophical is not easily achieved, but Mishra balances it with the finesse of a seasoned poet. The metaphors here are organic and unforced, and the journey—both literal and spiritual—evokes shades of Tagore’s Gitanjali, where divine love and human longing are inseparably interlaced.

One of the striking aspects of Moving for Moksha is its rhythmic integrity. Though the structure of the poems remains free verse, the recurrence of refrains, enjambments, and purposeful spacing lends a musicality that elevates the text beyond typical contemporary Indian English poetry, which often suffers from an overload of personal grief and juvenile abstraction. Mishra’s diction is careful, often spiritual, and always deliberate. In the poem “Objectivity is the key,” the lines:

“Perfection?
Just a myth added to human thoughts?
I pondered the lack of objective and objectivity.”

interrogate ideas of idealism and epistemological reliability. In a world where subjectivity reigns supreme, Mishra advocates for detachment and a reevaluation of truth, a motif common in Indian philosophical thought. The detachment he suggests, however, is not nihilistic but hopeful, anchored in movement and transcendence.

In thematic terms, Alok Mishra’s collection traverses the most fundamental questions of existence: What is life? Why do we suffer? What lies beyond love, loss, and longing? What is liberation? These questions place Moving for Moksha within the league of works by poets like Aurobindo Ghose, who wrote extensively on spiritual realisation and transformation. While Aurobindo was often complex and metaphysical in his language, Mishra is more intimate and dialogic, inviting readers not only to observe but also to participate in the unfolding meditation.

At the same time, his poetry does not escape comparison with mystic poets such as Rumi and Kabir, both of whom used paradox, imagery, and everyday vocabulary to convey transcendental truths. For instance, in the poem “experiencing the new dawn: nothing. Move. Keep moving.”, the line:

“all that that you wish to have
is nothing.”

calls to mind Rumi’s famous dictum: “Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead, let life live through you.” Mishra’s invocation of “nothing” is not the emptiness of despair but the fullness of being. It is a matured understanding of Shunyata, the Buddhist notion of emptiness that implies potential, not void. Thus, his poetry, while rooted in Indian vocabulary and spiritual context, transcends national borders and becomes part of a larger literary tradition that seeks universal truths.

What distinguishes Moving for Moksha from much of today’s poetry, however, is its inherent optimism and its bold rejection of despair as an aesthetic tool. Unlike many contemporary poets who romanticise pain and sell trauma, Mishra charts a journey that begins with suffering but does not end there. In a literary age that often celebrates brokenness without resolve, Mishra insists on moving, reflecting, becoming, and ultimately seeking Moksha. His poetry is not therapy but transformation. In that sense, his work stands diametrically opposed to modern confessional poets who dwell in disillusionment and rarely offer direction or transcendence.

Nevertheless, this ambitious outlook may also be a cause for selective appeal. Today’s literary readers, especially younger audiences, often gravitate toward themes of personal identity, social justice, and dissonance. Mishra’s collection, heavily laden with philosophical overtones and Sanatan imagery, may seem less relatable to those unfamiliar with Indian scriptures or the lexicon of liberation. Terms such as Moksha, Nishkama Karma, Paramartha, and Sanatan Dharma appear frequently without explanation. While this authenticates the spiritual texture of the collection, it may alienate readers unversed in Indic traditions.

Still, this potential inaccessibility is compensated by the linguistic lucidity of the poems. Unlike Ezra Pound or Paul Celan, whose poetry demands intellectual decoding, Mishra’s verse communicates with clarity and affective power. Even when the spiritual vocabulary is unfamiliar, the emotional current is unmistakably strong. The poem “On the shore of eternity, we stood for a while,” conveys a deeply personal reconciliation with time, identity, and eternity. One cannot help but feel the intimate grandeur of the moment.

The title itself, Moving for Moksha, is revelatory. “Moving” connotes action, impermanence, transition, and dynamism. “Moksha,” in contrast, symbolises the cessation of worldly ties, the ultimate stillness. Thus, the entire collection hinges on this paradoxical tension between movement and cessation, engagement and renunciation, desire and fulfilment. This duality is mirrored in the poetic voice, which oscillates between being a detached observer and an involved participant. The concluding poem, “and we jumped for Moksha!” captures this synthesis:

“Nothingness.
Fulfilment.
Calm.
‘Where are you?’
I did not utter once.
She and I were one!”

Here, the dissolution of duality into oneness—symbolic of the Vedantic ideal of Advaita—brings closure to the poetic journey. The ending is neither dramatic nor ambiguous. It is serene, absolute, and inwardly expansive.

On a critical note, the thematic cohesion of the collection is both its strength and its potential limitation. The persistent philosophical framework may become repetitive for some readers. The absence of dramatic shifts in theme or tone might create a monotony if the reader is not spiritually inclined. However, for those attuned to meditative reading, this continuity becomes a mantra —a spiritual chant that slowly unfolds its deeper meanings with every recitation.

Compared to Mishra’s earlier work, 13 Untitled and Weird Poems, Moving for Moksha is more mature, more aligned with a specific spiritual vision, and more resolved in tone. The earlier collection bore traces of experimentation and abstract defiance. In contrast, this volume exudes serenity, confidence, and theological insight. It reflects a poet who has not only found his voice but also his direction.

In sum, Moving for Moksha is a significant contribution to the tradition of Indian English poetry. It seeks not only to express but to elevate, not just to communicate but to transform. It reinserts spirituality into poetic discourse with conviction and grace. While it may not conform to the prevailing tastes of popular poetic culture, it carves a sacred space of its own—a space for reflection, detachment, and ultimately liberation. If poetry is indeed a mirror to the soul, then Mishra’s mirror reveals not only our fragmented selves but also the path to integration and fulfilment. In a world obsessed with momentary validation and self-expression, Moving for Moksha dares to speak of something greater, deeper, and infinitely more enduring: the possibility of transcendence.