And now, fifty years after its first publication, this historical collection of poems has been republished in an aesthetically combined form – its original Nepali form on the left page and the translated version on the right one. [break]
As academician Vaishnav, affectionately known as ‘Devkota’s Ganesh’, confesses in his beautifully scripted preface, he read out his poems aloud which the Mahakavi spontaneously wrote down in English.
The poems may have been translated on the spur of the moment, but there is a meticulousness about them that indicates plenty of diligence. The first poem, titled ‘Nahachka’ in Nepali and turned into ‘Flinch Not Back, O Shrink Not You!’ sets both the tone and tempo of the poems.
Vaishnav deals with spirituality, with a fierce desire to better one’s soul, whatever the cost might be. And Devkota obviously echoes these values, for how else could he second Vaishnav so beautifully?
From this poem we learn that the writer is suffused with the Renaissance vision, that of human beings equaling or even conquering this large world through their good deeds. Devkota puts forward this view even spiritedly. “Shrink not from lighting up the lamp!” he orders. In this case, the translator sometimes turns out to be much more verbose and commanding than the poet, such is the power of his words.
Devkota’s fondness for classical and archaic words can also be noticed right away, when he translates, ‘Who will annihilate this creation / with quakes, deluges, catastrophes about?’ or ‘He has a plaint.’ It is like reading an antique, charming piece of text.
After this show of anthropomorphism reigning supreme over nature, other poems quickly negate this thought. Indeed, they reveal the discrepancy and fall of the (then?) modern human. An example would be ‘Hami’ (We), which proclaims, ‘Though you may make a thousand quests / you cannot see your God.’ Or we can go through the poem ‘Shayad’ (surprisingly and misleadingly translated as ‘Man is So weak’) which accuses man of being so weak that ‘as soon as adversity closes in upon him / he tries to evade it.’ A particularly beautiful example that eulogizes nature in place of humans is ‘Takat’ (Power) which melodiously utters, ‘In the flower I saw much power / as I never saw in man.’
It is clear that, though the poet believes in the strengths and possibilities of a human, he is frustrated by the general social situation. Many of his poems lament the general anarchy, mayhem, and loss of ethics. At times, they resound the works of William Blake, and most particularly, Matthew Arnold. In ‘Ajkal’ (These Days), the poet sighs, ‘Crooked deals are credited as culture.’ In the same poem, he satirizes the lack of integrity in the so-called ‘rebels’ of his time in this way: ‘And Rum it is that works up / the revolutionary zeal.’ These lines speak the truth about the then political scenario, ‘The bomb it is that thunders/the message of peace.’
Even a cursory glance at these lines will bring us to our present environs, which seem to be similar to the one described by Vaishnav. It makes us question whether so little has changed in Nepal that ‘Those who have no patience for justice / enjoy themselves for their inequities’ to this day, or whether we have disintegrated even further than the situation described here. The fragmentation of values, the general air of dissatisfaction, the victory of falsity, the double-faced human nature that the poet brings up front still apply to our nation (and indeed the whole world) in contemporary times. Even a simple poem titled ‘Chad!’ (Festival) rings true for the present day as it slyly accuses a festival of slithering in ‘Before the tears of suffering have been wiped off / before the gaping wounds of the heart is filled up.’
But it is not as if the persona merely decries his time and fellow beings. Indeed, he does see a way out of this omnipresent quagmire – not through religion but through spirituality, internal satisfaction, the Buddha. He finds pleasure and delight as he sees ‘the paddy ears swelling’ or ‘a little child crawling on all fours.’ A perfect example of his finding peace amidst this fidgety life is the poem ‘Bishram!’ (Rest) which emboldens us to feel that ‘success is endeavor itself!’ The persona playfully mocks at a show of spirituality, and instead encourages one and all to find joy in the simplest blessings of life.
Taking into account the socio-political scenario of the times when the poems were written and translated, there seems little to comment on their structure and moralistic theme. They lack the glitz and shine of present-day poems; they are devoid of any particular literary dexterity, which is understandable. They tend to be highly didactic at times as to resemble chapters from our moral lessons turned into poetic form.
And at times, the poet simply forgets what he sets out to say in the title and rambles on about inconsequential factors. An example of this is ‘Hoshiyari’ (Warning) where the poet merely seems to be noting down his jumbled thoughts. Also, the overuse of exclamatory marks, inverted commas and dashes grates on the nerves. Talking of the translator, as mentioned above, he attacks the poems with such gusto and vigor that sometimes he ends up turning them into works of his own. If the poet uses four lines, he uses eight. His presence in all the poems is unquestionable and overpowering.
But as the collection encompasses merely 29 poems, they do not overthrow or bore the reader. They move through a theme of exposing the bad and searching for the good everywhere and in everything. They make us stop and think for a while, indeed, to thank the ‘ugly’ which has made us understand the ‘beauty’. It is a treat indeed for all of those who want to savor the work of two legends, living and thinking in a different era than ours.
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