Then Will Come Envy
Viren Dangwal [Translations: Ashok Pande] Defining the poet of our times, Nazim Hikmet once remarked: “The real poet is not engaged in his love, his happiness or pain. In such poet’s poems his people’s pulse must beat … The poet, in order to be successful, should, in his poems, shed light on the material life. One who escapes from real life and thus treats of unrelated subjects, is destined to burn like straw.” Probably the most innovative and the most daring among his contemporaries, Viren Dangwal treats the ordinary world with intense objectivity and skillfulness. He has turned the most mundane things like cows, elephants, tables, papayas, flies etc. into themes for his unique form of poetry. Attempting this requires immense compassion and audacity. Critics and poets alike have time and again emphasized that Viren has ardently followed the tradition of great Hindi poets Nirala and Nagarjun. Part of this is true, but what makes Viren Dangwal a unique poet is his modernity and awareness. His socio-political convictions were vociferous and underline his unassuming loyalty to common people. Constantly challenging the evils of the new world order, he dares to experiment with hitherto unknown forms and themes, constantly making us aware of the threats and vulnerability that we are exposed to. His poetry encompasses love, hope, struggle, irony and above all life – life that is simultaneously trivial and enormously full of possibilities. Summing up his vision, he observes: Down these very roads tyrants have kept coming Down these same roads One day Our people will come too. (From the Preface of ‘Its been Long since I Found Anything’ – Translation of Viren Dangwal’s poems. Published by Adharshila Prakashan, 2005) ________________________________ P.T. Usha Dark youthful gazelle Flies on her swift long legs Daughter of my impoverished country Still alive in the brightness of her eyes is the modesty recognizing hunger Therefore there is no Sunil Gavaskarsque splendor on her face Don’t ever sit P. T. Usha in that Maruti car you received as prize Giving yourself airs even in your thoughts Rather, put your feet up on the seat when you travel in the airplane Does your mouth make sounds while eating? No worries Those who regard silent jaws as civilized are the most dangerous gluttons in the world. *** Allahabad : 1970 1. I carry you along As the water carries the bank along A roguery, a nostalgia, a mischief, A panic, a suffering, a turn around, a crumpled hat, A hard kick on the bum, Scratching of a closing door with the wretchedness of paws Life is a strange riddle As soon as one thinks one belongs And spreads out the towel, ready to breathe easily One is thrown out mandatorily. 2. Scores of girders come crashing down Under them there is a man still alive His pupils are turned upwards From the corners of his lips a line of blood trickles But he is still alive, that man. His sleep is a chariot To take him to the dream that glimmers A thousand light years away 3. Groping in the dark for a matchbox Fingers find The unfamiliar feel Of well known things Knowing full well that I should have I still didn’t fill the stove Last evening Go, lethargy Stay, love Get, job Wife, be Make some khichri and chutney Loneliness Don’t stick to my neck On the crumpled pillow Like the sweat of May. 4. One personal gloom Two sandals getting worn out Three dogs barking So passed even this too, this day How wonderful would it be On opening the door to see Four or five letters Lighting up the darkness 5. I read it from the very beginning There were so many mistakes It was impossible to amend them Life was a book printed in a cheap press So many prescriptions for health They had themselves become disease. 6. A poet is fortunate to be read Just as to be eaten is the good fortune of a guava Yes, it tastes good and is healthy too Maybe, something else would flash in the mind As someone else lives in some other place. 7. Slowly, after the taste of failure fades away Envy would come. You will remember fixing The strap that keeps slipping off Of your rubber chappals You will not remember the sharp Taste of a firm guava The glittering sharpness will terrify the depressed Heart Goodness will taste bitter Shame will not leave the heart Those companions will meet like half-acquaintances With whom one learnt the lessons of life With success will vanish The sorrow of losing, the bliss of finding Then will come envy Blowing the trumpet of greed 8. The sorrow of passion, adolescence Pennilessness, a dosa a luxury In the coffeehouse some petty men Some supermen Two Che Guevaras The human being with me was Ramendra He had Four and a half Rupees 9 [Gaffar] A talkative smile on the face Like a xylophone the catechu-pot All this comes only with experience The shirt will always be sparkling too-blued white The knees will ache of course If you have to sit for sixteen hours in this tiny place “Now it is not like the old days, Sahib, Now every Tom, Dick and Harry Comes to study in the university,” In this contempt is hidden A unique brand of flattery All this comes only with experience. “My own son, Ekram at any rate Never got beyond the sixth grade” This much is certain that Gaffar Never was insulted by any student leader But neither did he ever Give anything on credit to a feeble customer. *** Manner Yellow tinged verdant Leaves have come up. Abundant. Glittering. Trees have Just this one way To tell They too love the world. *** Shamsher The night is my