|
Articles /Interviews
Unforgettable Times
Indo English Poetry in
the Seventies – 3
by
Dr. Amitabh Mitra
Another one from the Descendants –
Our bodies
after love making
Turned away, rejecting
Our words began to sound
Like clatter of swords in fight.
Yes, I was thinking, lying beside him
That I loved, and was much loved.
It is physical thing, he said suddenly,
End it, I cried, end it, and let us be free
After that
love became a swivel door
When one went out, another came in.
Then I
lost count, for always in my arms
Was a substitute for a substitute.
Oh, What
is the use, explaining –
It was a nameless, faceless crowd.
We have lain in every weather, nailed, no, not
To crosses, but to soft beds and against
Softer forms, while the heaving, lurching,
Tender hours passed in a half dusk, half dawn and
Half dream, half real trance. We were the yielders,
Yielding ourselves to everything…….
Kamala Das wrote with such passion, her poetry remains iconoclastic, defying
norms yet daring you to read. I found her book ‘My Story’ at the AH
Wheeler Book Shop in Gwalior Railway Station. The Autobiography is
prose-poetry, like peeping into shadows, a whiff, now here, now gone.
Pritish Nandy collaborated with Kamala Das to bring out poetry collections
and included her in all the anthologies he edited from 1972 to 1977.
Statesman had closed down JS and Desmond Doig left for Kathmandu. Pritish
was still writing evocative poetry and had bought a Standard Herald which he
included it in his poetry and whizzed around Kolkata, gathering words and
feelings. He shared friendship during this period with Aparna Sen and her
husband Mukul Sharma. They wrote poetry and dreamed of far greater
achievements.
The then Chief Minister Siddhartha Shankar Ray and his wife Maya Ray happen
to be great poetry enthusiast and Pritish Nandy found an avid listener and a
reader. But it was his friendship with Mallika Sarabhai, the well known
choreographer and dancer that brought his poetry to the forefront of
contemporary writings in Indian Literature.
One early morning, I found myself staring at a full page article on Pritish
Nandy in The Times of India. He had launched his celebrated book ‘Lonesong
Street’ and an EMI vinyl disc where he recited his poems to the music of
Ananda Shankar both dedicated to Mallika Sarabhai. His poem on Kolkata was
hailed by Times of India as ‘the finest poem in the past decade written
by an Indian’. Lonesong Street brought out by Heinemann has the
poems of Pritish Nandy accompanying the photographs of well known
photographer, Dhunji Rana.
I was in Delhi by the next train buying his book and LP at Dass Studios in
Connaught Place. His poems were all for a beautiful girl, I couldn’t keep
it, it had to go to another girl.
When you
have crossed the bustling main-streets
of an ever ever land
You reach a lonesome sand strip called a never never strand
You take the turning left and you take the turning right
And where the twilight breaks
You turn your ragged sight
Round the duskfall where it is blue
Lonesong Street waits for you
Lonesong hour is when the ashphalt cracks with a far off steps
Of a strange malhar
Lonesong hour is when wild flowers grow
with every tantrum we have shared…
Lonesong Street was made into a film, its music by Ananda Shankar
drew packed crowds in Kolkata and the film festival circuit. Lonesong Street
is a collector’s item. There is a picture that has stuck to my mind. A young
Pritish presenting the LP of Lonesong Street to Mrs. Indira Gandhi.
At 28, Pritish Nandy became the youngest recipient of Padma Shree.
– Continued
Page: 1 |
2 | 3 | 4
| 5 | 6 | 7
Top | Articles /Interviews
|
