Rendezvous with Jeet Thayil
After a long time, I found myself ensconced in the cool
environs of the Goa University with a teacher of poetry par excellence. He led
a medley of thirty through the literary analyses of lyrical poetry; those
beautiful songs of triumph and loss, mingling in clear tonality and ringing
with joy of beautiful human speech. Meet
the performance poet, novelist, librettist and musician- Jeet Thayil, whose
lyrical lucidity and biographical asides through sessions of
reading-aloud-a-poem made us co-creators in the creative process of reading and
writing poetry.
What good is poetry that cannot be indulged in, celebrated, danced and sung
to? The engaging experience had us
revisit poets like Elizabeth Bishop and her dear friend Robert Lowell who, in
his poem Skunk Hour, has laid his affection bare for all to see. The comical yet woebegone interlude with John
Berryman and his famous work The Dream Songs, offering depressing vignettes of
Berryman alias Henry, led us intrigued for further explorations. A grim,
unrelenting portrait of sing-song rhymed quatrains by Theodore Roethke My
Papa’s Waltz left us at once contemplative and awed. Robert Creeley’s I Know a
Man introduced us to the Black Mountain coterie of poets who excelled in narrowing
the unit of structure in the poem down to what could fit within an utterance.
Our encounter with Allen Ginsberg, the poet of the beat generation and his poem
The Howl, a template used by many to write their own poems, was inspiring.
James Wright and his innovative style of using titles and first and last line
to great dramatic effect, was a lesson in writing our own poems. Joan Larkin’s
poem Origin gave us a feel of ‘unblinking gaze’ and ruthless
clarity on heart-wrenching subjects like child abuse.The class, which started with American poetry and a reserved audience demeanor confronted with a consummate poet, opened out to a warm interactive interlude with an avalanche of cascading verse from Indian poets. Jeet Thayil, a repertoire of Indian poetry, an outcome of his ambitious endeavor to anthologize Indian poetry from Fulcrum magazine in Boston to Bloodaxe and Penguin editions, brought our way an in-depth resource of a canon. The forays into the voices of Indian English poets threw in a spate of debates on choice of language, context of reading poems …but Jeet Thayil dissuaded arguments in favour of his mission of eulogizing the feel and form of lyrics in poems. The juxtaposition of very British stylistic technique of Nissim Ezekiel with his prowess at churning out a poem of limited grammar and the spoken everyday English of the people in the streets, made interesting study. One great benefit I derived was being introduced to many poets I had never previously read, the lost and obscured poets as Jeet called them, whose beautiful verse is not only relegated to back of beyond but is marked by a complete absence, not a print available anywhere. Jeet Thayil came upon Gopal Honnalgere, Srinivas Rayaprol, Lawrence Bantleman, G.S. Sharat Chandra in old manuscript copies, a treasure trove of lyrical poetry, which was worth an inclusion in the contemporary anthology of Indian poets. Dom Moraes, Eunice de Souza and Manohar Shetty, poets with a Goan connection, were read enthusiastically.
The experience was akin to turning interminable corners in a maze and coming across yet another poet with a unique charm. The poetry reading parleyed into a poetry workshop for those who write their own poems. Sitting through the sessions, it was indeed remarkable to see the ruthless, but constructive appraisal by Jeet of the amateur attempts by the students ( I was really embarrassed by mine). His definitive encouraging, truthful and restful approach evoked even the reticent voices to speak and add to the ongoing exchange.
The songs of delight reached a crescendo on the last day, 22nd
August, 2013, when Jeet Thayil performed his poems on stage in a public event.
Standing upright nonchalantly, he effortlessly ploughed through his original
pieces of work, as if bells resounding and bouncing off the frozen peaks and
valleys of a mountainous range. And, he
had the chutzpah to render a Ghazal in English with the refrain ‘In Malayalam’
through it, an intimate, intense and pleasurable experience with a poet.
Jeet Thayil has awakened us to ‘the jolt, the
jive, joie de vivre ‘of writing and reading poetry. I end this note with words
from the book ‘An Equal Music’ – Poetry, such poetry, is a sufficient gift. Why
ask for happiness; why hope not to grieve? It is enough, it is to be blessed
enough, to live from day to day and to hear such music – not too much, or the
soul could not sustain it- from