I should have inherited poetry in my genes going by my
father’s interest in poetry. But I had this extreme hatred for memorizing
things. It was always “read, understand,
reproduce” for me. Hence poetry was not something I liked. Since I was good at
speaking out in class most of my teachers had
a belief that I might do well on stage items. To please them I often got
on stage but personally knew I was not so good. The problem was I could
not(read -would not) memorize prepared items and forgot in between. Most of the prizes I won were
because my competitors were worse and I was not proud of those prizes. Thanks
to my father and initial good schools I attended my language was good. In fact
I now feel it was better than what it is now. Since my father was a voracious
reader who read widely and did not focus on a particular type I traversed the
same path. After rhymes and multiplication tables I thought days of memorizing
were over.
But then life I have found is there for a purpose-it will steer you towards those very things that you want to escape. Many who while learning driving would have experienced it. If you see a stone or something at a distance and strongly want to avoid it often we find ourselves steering the vehicle to that area subconsciously. We get what we want very strongly. People have since ages known it. Some called it prayers. They would go on to say if you prayed really “hard” your prayers would be answered. Little do they know our thoughts and nature connive to make it happen. Of course we blame it on an external power—God. The other fact is that those things that we hate often chase us down. If we are loving something and hating the opposite of what we love simultaneously chances are more that we come upon the object of our hatred sooner—as hate is a stronger feeling than love.We do more extreme,more irrational things in hate than in love . So if you seek something you love make sure not to hate the opposite or else….
In my case I had a revulsion for memorizing and I came upon the career which to take wings required me to memorize not just simple poems but entire chapters and books. The above part was an introduction why there was no reason for me to go after poetry in spite of the books in my father’s collections. He still has a lot of urdu poetry books-Ghalib,Mir and other books in hindi, I remember H.R. Bacchhan’s “madhubala” and “madhushala”to name a few. Occasionally bored by fiction I used to venture into them and read some poetry especially the parts where beauty and love were explained hoping to impress some girl somewhere. All movies and mills and boon sort of stories were rife with women and girls who fell head over heels with poets etc….so the notion struck.....even if it was copied.
I always thought poetry was all about rhyming and arranging words in attractive manner. The idea changed after I came across Waltwhitman’s style of poetry….he became my favourite poet then…..I understood how poetry was not about pleasing others but it was more pleasing yourself……a vent for your repressed feelings…….a reprieve from depressed state of mind. It was not ovation that most wrote for, as the best got ovation only after they were long gone.
I found another use of poetry ----was while writing autographs, and filling up greeting cards. After school farewell I had filled up plenty of books for those to whom I seldom talked while I had the chance.
Apart from a translation I did of a hindipoem written by a hindi poet who called himself “nirala” I did not do much verses. The translation must have been good as my father was amazed by the deep inner meanings in the lines and immediately said the poem wasn’t written by me! I impishly told him I had translated it and showed him the original one in hindi. He was impressed by my translation skills then. I even had my English teacher Mrs. Monga impressed by the same poetry but I told her it was translated stuff that took away all the credit.
The very first of my verses were written in 1993 or at least that is the only records I have. I was in school and wrote n a small notebook. I called the notebook “heart beats”. The verses went like this:
MEMORIES LINGER ON
AND REFUSE TO DROWN IN THE SEA OF THOUGHTS
BUT POP UP NOW AND THEN ON THE SURFACE
TO GIVE US HEART ACHES HARD TO BEAR……
I don’t know if “pop up now and then” qualifies in poetry but then that is what I wrote.
The second verse was for an old English teacher who taught me in st.joseph’s convent. She was my class teacher when I was in ninth class which I consider the best period of my schooling. There was so much fun and there was so much to learn in ninth class. I had given her a card on xmas or children’s day and I wanted to make it special so had coined up the following:
IN THE JOURNEY THROUGH MY LIFE
A GENTLE BREEZE OF FRAGRANT
FACES PASSED ME
AMONGST THEM WAS YOUR FACE
WHICH STAYED ON BRIGHTER AND
CLEARER THAN THE SKY
LONG AFTER THE BREEZE WAS
GONE
The third of my verses was written at Okhla railway station after a visit to the international trade fair at pragathi maidan with some of my friends. We were dead tired but had enjoyed ogling at the pretty models at the stalls and were munching on some bread pakodas available at the station. I loved bread pakodas especially from the station. We had gone somewhere in Delhi after pragati maidan and had decided to board our emu at Okhla. May be I had let my fertile imagination run amok with some pretty face at trade fairs……I don’t remember…..but any how it went like this:
FATIGUED ARE MY LEGS
STILL I REGRET NOT
A GLIMPSE OF THY FRIENDLY
FACE
SENDS MY SPIRITS SOARING
AGAIN DOES THE LAMPS OF HOPE
BURN
THE NECTAR OF LOVE QUENCHING
MY THIRST.
Reading back the verses now I feel I was heavily influenced by the lyrics of hindi movie songs of the times and had taken “inspiration” from them. But then that was inevitable
…….to be contd.
THE VIEW ALWAYS DECEIVES
Go on writing...
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