Welcome to Indian Poetry — September 2007

The five poets in this edition are certainly not the only political poets in the country, or even the foremost ones (if such a fatuous category were to be devised). But they represent a fascinating mix of generations, sensibilities and preoccupations. All of them have cogently defined political views that they articulate in their poetry with conscious intent.

Saroop Dhruv is a seasoned poet, feminist and cultural activist who has been deeply involved in the human rights movement in Gujarat. Meena Kandasamy is a 23-year-old Dalit poet from Tamil Nadu (the youngest on this domain so far) whose debut volume in English is provocative and passionate in its indictment of caste politics. Jameela Nishat from Hyderabad is an Urdu feminist poet, fiercely committed to furthering the cause of Muslim women’s rights. Suniti Namjoshi is a senior UK-based writer of verse and fable, whose work has addressed the politics of gender and sexual orientation with inventive wit and compassion for decades. Veerankutty, an environmental poet from Kerala, writes a gentle inflected poetry that reveals his conviction in an agenda-based aesthetic that does not lapse into sloganeering stridency.

None of them believe their politics have hindered their poetics, or vice versa. And none of them believe in the possibility of a value-neutral apolitical poetry. As Namjoshi says, once she discovered in the late 1970s just how closely politics was related with ethics, and literature with power, she found herself exhilarated at the possibility of exploring the intersections in her art.

However, as bold transgressive voices, they have probably had to wage their own battles to be taken seriously. I recall Saroop Dhruv saying at a reading many years ago that she was labelled an akhbaari (journalistic) poet by leading Gujarati litterateurs the minute her poetry started turning overtly political. Meena Kandasamy also talks of the importance of consciously resisting the seductions of mainstream “acceptance, or admiration, or awards” when she took to poetry.

Challenges and disenchantments notwithstanding, none of these poets would hold that poetry makes nothing happen. Dhruv declares – in the aftermath of the terrible Gujarat riots of 2002 – that she still believes she is capable of shaping her environment, rather than being merely shaped by it. Nishat talks often in her poetry of the subversive contribution of those who wield the pen. And Veerankutty asserts the importance of a much-underestimated weapon in the poet’s arsenal: ‘silence’ with its quiet subversions and far-reaching echoes.

Tune in to the many reverberations of rage and resistance.