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I
started writing poems many years back. Then, seven years
back life suddenly took a sharp turn, and it became what
can only be called happening. And there was so
much to write. From diaries, to love poems that
doesn’t have a second copy [and the only copies of
which have been consigned to the dustbin of anonymity],
to dedications and what not. However, poetry was not
literature; it was pure effusion, pure expression, pure
gratitude and feeling, and more than anything, pure
LOVE. While I cannot make any claims on their artistic
quality, they meant and means so much to me. And yet,
some years later, suddenly again, life turned so much
complicated. Those simplified expressions could no
longer envelope and express the meandering thoughts and
feelings, those clumsy words and phrases could no longer
keep with the philosophy. A new mode, a new competence
of expression was needed. Fortunately the literature
course provided much of that. And yes, recent years have
seen an increasing complexity of thought, an expanding
domain of expression. As I got to know more of the
world, and the vast fields of knowledge, I felt humbled,
and in my humility lies the reason of complexity. So,
broadly two groups can be made of my poetic
compositions-
- The
earlier poems, rather simple in thought content and
expression, but full of intensity and emotions.
- The
latter poems, more complex in thought and
expression, but devoid of that earlier simplicity of
human emotions, that perhaps, endears the poems of
Wordsworth to us.
Needless
to elaborate, the earlier poems are very personal, most
of them almost autobiographical. All of them had been
written spurred on incidents in my past. Therefore, the
only way a different person can make use of those verses
is by transposing himself in the place of the narrator.
Almost all the poems being love poems helps this
process, love (young heterosexual love) being one of the
most universal of emotions. These poems are almost in
black in white- they are either poems of happiness, or
poems of dejection. Some are nostalgic. Some are
musings. Some are in present tense. Some written on very
petty but very personal occasions. In this simplicity
lies their loveliness. These early poems are certainly
not worth a penny in a good anthology, but they are
worth millions in an autobiography. Thus, if any
evolution of thought is to be interpreted, a careful
note of the composition dates is to be made.
A
surprising coincidence is to be noticed in my latter
poems. I can only claim it to be coincidence because I
know it. Some people have noticed a Donne like quality
in my love poems. This is undeniable. Donne is one of my
favourite poets. But what is to be kept in mind that
some of these Donne-like poems had been written prior to
my introduction to the Victorian genius. Even now I have
read very very little of Donne, and seldom studied him
seriously. How is it that Donne has crept into my poems
so extensively? Donne’s love poems are complex, and
mine are too- that's one similarity I can perceive. It
would not be possible to express those thoughts if any
different expression is to be used. Donne was one poet
to whom the thought was paramount, and not the poetic
form- and so he had to go after only expression. The
result is that his poems are ugly to see and hear, but
so much masterful and authentic in ideas and thoughts.
It would be wrong, however, to say that poetic form and
words means nothing to me. They do. I use my words
carefully. If I have used a word at a certain place, it
is because it makes the idea more coherent, the poem
more beautiful. Punctuation marks are really important
to extract the complete sense of the ideas- it would be
wrong to read the poems in the modern mould and
disregard the punctuation.
It is hoped
that the poems present here will certain of your
thoughts and ideas. It is hoped that the verses would
find a sympathy with your soul. It is hoped that you
will find something in the poems for yourself. Otherwise
this whole endeavour in presenting my poems to you would
be in futility. Thank you.
Composed:
20th and 23rd December, 2001 |
