{"id":5220,"date":"2016-04-26T22:51:30","date_gmt":"2016-04-26T17:21:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?p=5220"},"modified":"2016-04-26T22:51:30","modified_gmt":"2016-04-26T17:21:30","slug":"independence-day-poetry-oppressed-souls-freedom-piyush-mishra-darwish-divine-tagore","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/?p=5220","title":{"rendered":"Independence Day: Is Poetry the Oppressed Soul\u2019s Ticket to Freedom?"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

O<\/span><\/p><\/div>

\nn 9 August, poet and actor Piyush Mishra lent his voice to a YouTube video titled \u201cAzadi Hai Kya\u201d, a look at what freedom means in today\u2019s India. In it, Mishra asked a crucial question, \u201c<\/span>Toh samjh gaye babua, azaadi? Agar samjh gya toh lajawab, agar nahi samjhe toh soch zara<\/span><\/a>. (Have you understood what freedom is? If not, think about it.)\u201d\u00a0<\/span>\n\nFreedom, to most of us, still dates back to the political <\/span>independence<\/span><\/a> of 1947. Mishra, on the other hand, wants us to consider freedom as an everyday exercise, of poetically, liberally reconfiguring what this freedom might mean to us, and to everyone around us. Mishra is typically curt and direct, as he appeals to the listener to consider the responsibilities that come with liberty \u2014 primarily to not infringe on someone else\u2019s right to exercise his or hers. How else does one explain the gradual, yet irreconcilable\u00a0 separation of ideas in this country? The birth of a rigid dichotomy, where someone\u2019s self-approved opinion, implies the invalidity of another\u2019s \u2014 a world where we alone argue or shape our opinions. Opinions we consider the gospel truth.<\/span>\n\nMishra\u2019s request is poetic, not simply because it is written so, but because it invites interpretation. Like poetry, <\/span>freedom<\/span><\/a> too is defined by its individual interpretations, the perception that as long as there exists a wall, freedom is found in the probability of it coming down \u2013 and the possibilities of everything that lies beyond. We celebrate Independence Day as the anniversary of the end of British rule in India. But several decades on we are still ruled by our differences, malicious politics, and a hateful discourse that suppresses alternative voices. To be free would be to accept everyone\u2019s claim to the same poem, and by extension, the same freedoms.<\/span>\n\nThe late Palestinian <\/span>poet<\/span><\/a> Mahmoud Darwish writes in his poem \u201cWho Am I, Without Exile?\u201d:<\/span>\n\nWhat will I do? What<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>will I do without exile, and a long night<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>that stares at the water?<\/span><\/i>\n\nDarwish wrote about the Israeli military\u2019s occupation of Palestine throughout his life. Here he illustrates the limbo, the psychological void of longing for a home, away from home, the listlessness of a night sky watching a river that, like time, continues to flow. Not all feel exiled by geographic ostracisation alone. India-born <\/span>American<\/span><\/a> poet Agha Shahid Ali famously wrote the poem \u201cThe Country Without a Post Office\u201d after no mail was allowed to move inside Kashmir for seven months. \u201cThey haunt a country when it is ash,\u201d Ali wrote. The poem, 20 years after it was first written, continues to echo the <\/span>remote and sophisticated nature <\/span>of Kashmir\u2019s problems, caged by whatever prism of history or lens of the present you look at it with. The fact that there are as many solutions to Kashmir\u2019s problems as there are people who haven\u2019t been there, has only made things worse \u2014 at least for the people who haven\u2019t been asked their opinion.\u00a0<\/span>\n\n

To be free would be to accept everyone\u2019s claim to the same poem, and by extension, the same freedoms.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\nThat said, both Ali\u2019s and Darwish\u2019s poetry was born out of unavoidable conflict, the suffocation of an unpopular <\/span>faith<\/span><\/a>. Not too dissimilar, although contextually different, were the verses of freedom fighter Ram Prasad Bismil. He writes in the poem \u201cSarfaroshi ki Tamanna\u201d:<\/span>\n\nHum to ghar se nikle hi the baandhkar sar pe kafan<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Jaan hatheli par liye lo badh chale hain ye qadam<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Zindagi to apni mehmaan maut ki mehfil mein hai<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai<\/span><\/i>\n\n(We set out from our homes, our heads shrouded with cloth,<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Our lives in our hands, we march forward<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>In the assembly of death, our life is merely a guest<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>In our hearts now, is the desire to rebel)<\/span><\/i>\n\nBismil\u2019s poem has been called back to memory, time and again, by the state. Incredibly, it was written at that time, against the <\/span>British<\/span><\/a> occupation of India. Bismil\u2019s intentions are aggressive and retributive, whereas both Ali and Darwish attempt to make sense of the absurdity they have been forcibly married to. But it makes it clear that poetry isn\u2019t just limited to jugular disputes over land and borders, it manifests in the many agitations a free heart is likely to raise. In his explosively titled \u201cGandu Bagicha 2\u201d, Dalit Marathi poet Namdeo Dhasal metaphorically maims the savarna, upper-caste way of historicising everything with:<\/span>\n\nThe crippled cockroach of\u00a0karma yoga<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Needlessly keeps digging up the soil<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>\u2026 it has already torn<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>The\u00a0condom\u00a0of delusion<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>To tatters<\/span><\/i>\n\nDhasal, who led the <\/span>Dalit<\/span><\/a> Panthers movement in Marathi culture, was so intense and deep that he has often been classified as untranslatable. However, one can still surmise that Dhasal\u2019s idea of freedom meant liberation from the constitution of caste. The same constitution that continues to amend itself, to find new routes to oppress the already oppressed.\u00a0<\/span> \n\n

But it makes it clear that poetry isn\u2019t just limited to jugular disputes over land and borders, it manifests in the many agitations a free heart is likely to raise.<\/p><\/blockquote> \n\nIn the not-too-distant future, upon a cultural axiom far from Dhasal\u2019s, the rapper Divine hangs his rather more modish criticism of institutional corruption and class oppression, in his song \u201c<\/span>Azaadi<\/span><\/a>\u201d:<\/span>\n\nDesh kaise hoga saaf<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Inki neeyat main hai daag<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Sirf karte rahenge baat<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Alag shakal wahi jaat<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Vote milne par ye khaas<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Phir gayab pure saal<\/span><\/i>\n\nBoth Dhasal and <\/span>Divine<\/span><\/a> read as perturbed, angry individuals, their sense of freedom curtailed by circumstances that are systematic, outside the purview of what they can immediately alter. That, however, is the genesis of what they believe freedom is, or should be. Poetry tells us we are all staring at the pointed end of a nail, each with a unique opinion of what we think its head is being beaten in by – people we don\u2019t like, people we disagree with. Seldom do we think consider the fact we might be on the other side, blasting that metal through someone\u2019s throat, their voice, their right to be heard. Freedom is freedom when that nail is struck by fate, and not the will of men. To American poet Sylvia Plath it meant being freed from domestication, or the very concept of being reduced to a \u201cwoman\u201d. She writes in <\/span>Lady Lazarus:<\/span><\/i>\n\nDying<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>Is an art, like everything else.<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>I do it exceptionally well.<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>I do it so it feels like hell.<\/span><\/i>\n<\/span><\/i>I do it so it feels real.<\/span><\/i>\n\nBe it Dhasal or Ali, Divine or Darwish, poetry, like freedom, remains an open realm, one that can be claimed but not possessed. Our <\/span>politicians<\/span><\/a> quote poets every day in the parliament, poets they like, poets they think speak for them. In fact poetry speaks for the person who reads it, in his or her voice. It becomes the charter of those who can afford the words as much time in their heart as they do in their mind.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nNaturally, poetry transcends language, politics, and social dictum. It refuses incarceration on any level. There are no prisons in poetry, only the interminable feeling that there is no life without yearning, no life without desire, no life without motive, and no life without purpose. Some of us choose our prisons, some are born with them. To live with different definitions of this prison, to live with different meanings of the same poem, without fear, is freedom. Or as <\/span>Rabindranath Tagore<\/span><\/a> wrote, \u201cFreedom from fear is freedom.\u201d<\/span>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Freedom, to most of us, still dates back to the political independence of 1947. But like poetry, freedom too is defined by its individual interpretations. To be free would be to accept everyone\u2019s claim to the same poem, and by extension, the same freedoms.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":137,"featured_media":5221,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[107],"tags":[8848,379,8849,8850,6144,8851,8852,8853,6196,33,1709,8854,8855],"class_list":["post-5220","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-pov","tag-agha-shahid-ali","tag-divine","tag-freedom-fighters","tag-freedom-struggle","tag-independence-day","tag-mahmoud-darwish","tag-namdeo-dhasal","tag-piyush-mishra","tag-poetry","tag-politics","tag-rabindranath-tagore","tag-ram-prasad-bismil","tag-sylvia-plath"],"yoast_head":"\nIndependence Day: Is Poetry the Oppressed Soul\u2019s Ticket to Freedom?<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Freedom, to most of us, still dates back to the political independence of 1947. 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