(Dr. Rama Singh)
When there is lack of emotions in human life, then pain is born. When this pain torments the human mind in various forms, then many arts are spontaneously born because the human mind wants expression somewhere or the other, in some form or the other. This expression is in various arts. Over time, these arts become the culture of that country, time and place. Among these arts, Vastu, dance, music and literature are such arts that awaken the emotions sleeping in the unconscious of a person and express them in social behavior. In Indian philosophy, that worldly world is called ‘Bhavsagar’. This ‘Bhav’ is the creator of ‘Bhav’ and ‘Bhav’ is the nurturer of ‘Bhav’. Literature is incomplete without ‘Bhav’. The deep joy of ‘Bhav’ is called Brahmananda Sahodar.
Words, meanings, emotions, thoughts and imagination are the tools of literature. Among these, the ’emotions’ of the first word and meaning are incomplete and without ’emotions’ the words and meanings are lifeless. These words are the carriers of our emotions. They are the charioteer of the supreme power who gives us the knowledge of Satyam-Shivam-Sundar in the mundane world and takes us to the supreme world where only bliss resides. The bliss of this bliss is like ‘the mute’s jaggery’ which can be felt but cannot be explained. Geet, Navgeet, Ghazal, Kavita, Kshanikas etc. are the medium of its expression. Bound by their rhythm and lyricism, its pen keeps on creating new creations every day.
‘Doha’ which is the shortest verse of poetry since ancient times, still maintains its identity in expression. To express the feeling in just two lines which are bound by thirteen-eleven syllables is like filling the ocean in a pot. These two lines are its body, mind and soul, in which the complete personality of the couplet is contained.
Who knows since when this short verse has been struggling and once again hoisting its flag in Hindi literature, saying, ‘Dekhn me chhote lagen ghaav kare gambhir’, meaning we may look small but our impact is very deep. If this impact was not so deep, then the couplets of Kabir, Rahim, Sur, Jayasi, Tulsi and Bihari would not have resided in your heart and would not have automatically come out of your mouth according to the time. The feeling of a huge tree like a seed is inherent in the couplet; that is why the popularity of the couplet has remained from ancient times to modern times.
In modern times, many writers are writing ‘Doha’, its spontaneity, simplicity and purity has attracted writers. Doha, like modern Ghazal, is also coming out of traditionalism and establishing identity with the new environment. While there are policy based couplets, like Kabir, they are also making a deadly attack of words on social fragmentation and distortions. While these couplets are the beauty of nature, tenderness is present in these couplets with its complete beauty. Doha is a complete, small and independent unit in itself.
Famous poet Ashok Maitreya’s collection of couplets ‘Pakado Hath Kabir’ starts with ‘Vaani Vandan’. The poet prays to mother Vaani to bless him with such blessings that he can pierce the fog and bring the light of the sun.
I can move through the fog and find the sun.
Fill me with such strength that I can defeat darkness.
There are lots of emotions hidden in my mind.
Mother, bless me so that I can give them shape.
It is difficult for the poet to express himself in the society in which he lives. His problem is that he does not want to live a life of conflict. So he requests his mother-
I don’t know what to write, there is a conflict going on in my mind.
Hold my hand and teach me, let the pen move without any conflict.
The birth of a poet is spontaneous like ‘the first poet will be a lonely person’ when the pain of the external world starts churning the heart, then the verses of the poem burst out automatically, the poet says-
For a few hours like this, the embankments broke.
Then this pen of mine would create new verses.
A poem is not born just like that. Its birth is like labor pains. When a new work is created, the feeling of satisfaction that the poet gets is something else.
Delivery is very difficult, life is in pain.
When a poem is born, then we get relief.
In today’s time, there is a flood of poets and poems, but that poem mostly lacks sentiments. What kind of poem is it which does not have sentiments? The poet’s life itself is a poem.
Strange and unique colors filled on blank paper.
His life is poetry, with whom poetry is.
This is the reason why he wants to spread light in every home by lighting the lamp of poetry, he wants to make poetry a weapon against cannons and shells.
Come, let us all sit down and take a leap of the mind.
Distributed light to every house, lit the lamp of poetry.
No, it is not a cannon, not a spear, it is a stream of water.
Poetry turns stone into sand; it is its weapon.
There must be some reason why the poet wants to use poetry as a weapon. Today’s social, economic and political life is full of distortions. Society is disintegrating. Caste-distinction, class-distinction, animosity, violence, hatred, disgust, all anti-human sentiments have raised their heads. Politics is being criminalized, parliament is becoming unparliamentary. All the social relations which used to give life earlier, are ready to take life away every moment, so what should the poet do? His pen automatically says-
Politics became a prostitute, leaders became brokers.
The criminals became flirts, life became difficult.
Leader, Babu and police, these three are monkeys.
Becoming blind, dumb and deaf, they are playing the flute.
Corruption has increased to such an extent that-
All the government work is happening somehow.
Would not even crawl to the file, without money and without price.
When the freedom fighters sacrificed their lives before independence, they would not have thought about the plight of the country they had resolved to give Swaraj (self-rule) after independence. If the gardener himself eats the garden, then who will save it?
What kind of injustice is this that a crow bites a swan?
The Ganga is flowing in the reverse direction with time.
The rivers came from the mountains but could not reach the villages.
He divided that much, according to whoever’s bet was more.
The flowers are becoming suspicious, the bees are lying silent.
There is a garden in times of trouble, who will provide relief?
This question of freedom is in the mind of every citizen who is a patriot, who wants to see the country on top of the world, but when India is no longer India, and gets divided into India and Hindustan, then the poet is unable to stop his pen and says-
This is their ‘India’, their ‘Hindustan’.
My India is lost, bleeding.
The poet’s ‘India’ is a bundle of light, an infinite storehouse of knowledge, the pinnacle of spirituality, the ideal of philosophy. What is the state of that India? You are swallowing crores in the name of development, yet the situation is under control, what an irony.
Naked body, mute body, life goes by.
Life on the footpaths is the way of development.
Society runs on two wheels in the form of man and woman. If one wheel is big and the other is small then it is difficult for the vehicle of life to move. But in a country where morality has declined, where women are not considered partners but objects of enjoyment, how is it possible to rise in that society? From whom and how should women protect themselves today, when their home itself becomes Lanka?
Every house has become Lanka, devils are peeping.
Sita cries in pain, Hanuman is surprised.
Sinful acts are being planned, the country has become the stage.
Ravana roams around with pomp, wearing the guise of Rama.
Poet Ashok Maitreya is the author of that generation when the society had some moral values, there was affinity, brotherhood, relations and above all this was the mother, the creator of the universe after Brahma. Even in the unconscious mind of the poet, woman resides in the form of mother, some couplets are worth seeing-
Uma-Rama-Shachi-Bharati, in which everyone is present.
I am a part of that mother, this is my existence.
Mother’s love is great, Devesh is younger.
Everyone should bow before the Mother, Gods, Demons and Dervishes.
Mother’s pallu is pure, it always provides shade.
Worship your Mother, Mother is the Goddess of Gods.
The poet has seen many ups and downs in his life, the feeling of truth is his poetry, his statement. Today, due to financial crisis and poverty, sons have started going from villages to oceans and from the country to foreign countries. See the live depiction of the mental state of their parents in such a situation-
Why don’t you bring the letter, what is your trick?
Why are you silent postman, tell me about your son.
The pain in my heart is making me cry with nine tears.
The house and courtyard are deserted, the son has gone abroad.
The blind mother hopes that her son will come to her.
The father sits sad, holding a stick in his hand.
In ‘Pakado Haath Kabir’, while the poet’s pen spits fire on social distortions and inconsistencies, it also does not forget the Indian cultural festival Holi and the king of seasons, spring. The tender feelings of the poet’s heart are reflected in these couplets, and at the same time, his pen also starts moving on the deteriorating ‘environment’-
The water carrier went to the river bank, the infinite bonds were freed.
The fog and mist have cleared, spring has arrived.
My mind is color and your heart is gulal.
Now both of them are having a lot of fun together.
Love is the color of devotion, faith becomes gulal.
Now I will play Phaag with you, come Gopal.
But while Holi and Basant are festivals of love, the fire of hatred and separation is at its peak in the society, the weather is bad, every house is a crematorium, so how can the poet remain silent-
How saffron and gulal fly on Holi.
The weather is in a bad state due to the heat of hatred and animosity.
In this bad weather, Ashok Maitreya wants-
The mind becomes like clay and sandalwood and goodwill becomes like vermillion.
Then say with pride, Kabir played Holi.
Most of the couplets in the collection of couplets ‘Pakado Haath Kabir’ attack every unequal system of society just like Kabir. The poet’s pen does not move slowly by tapping but strikes straight like a hammer, it does not create excitement but forces one to think. There is no part of the society on which the poet’s pen has not worked – some couplets are worth seeing-
Let’s break the wall of caste and religion.
Become the guardian of harmony and goodwill.
Now people have forgotten the meaning of relationships.
Father, mother and brothers, all seem useless to them.
Thieves steal the oil from the lamp of democracy.
Wake up people, surround them without making any noise.
Descendants of speech, wake up, pick up the pen today.
May the birds get strength, alas the defeated eagle.
Not just one but many such couplets are adding to the beauty of this collection, which along with the pain of the poet also introduce his mature mentality. The poet has continuously written on devotional couplets, his thoughts on Ramjanmabhoomi, social harmony, and goodwill. The poet is distressed at the westernization thinking of the new generation. Our country, which was once called a religious guru, the new generation of the same country is happy by painting itself in western colors. They do not even know that it was India that gave the knowledge of zero to the world-
India remained the world guru, who gave the knowledge of zero.
Ever since the westerly wind cheated me, I have lost my identity.
While poet Ashok Maitreya has depicted the love aspect of life in each couplet, he has also given a detailed description of every situation of the society which is becoming insensitive and is getting worse day by day. Ultimately, the poet wishes-
I will break the hypocrisy and draw a new line.
May your feet never slip, hold my hand Kabir.
The couplets of the collection ‘Pakado Haath Kabir’ are also perfect from the point of view of prosody. The combination of words according to the emotion is unmatched. The language is not flowery but is mostly expressive or connotative. The poet has no qualms about using words from other languages. The poet’s main objective is to communicate the emotions. Each couplet is a literal outpouring of the intense fire burning in the poet’s mind. This first collection of couplets by poet Ashok Maitreya is indeed praiseworthy.
Tags: Hindi Literature, Hindi Writer, New Books
FIRST PUBLISHED : June 15, 2024, 12:22 IST