Poetic journey through the Indian city streets

Hindustan Times

14 hours ago

Do you have memories of the busy buzz and unending traffic of the lanes and bylanes of Amritsar, the twin city to Lahore, until the borders parted them in the divide of the cursed 1947. The former was called the business city while the latter the cultural capital of the once united Punjab. Well if you have not known then read the poems it's home-grown poet Manmohan Singh, which features in the delightful and amazing 'Penguin Book of Poems on the Indian city' edited by a young scholar of Mumbai at Oxford University, Bilal Moin. Thus go lines from the poem: Anthology of poetry featuring poems of Amrita Pritam & Manmohan Singh. (HT)
'After long years I am passing through its narrow lanes
Dhab Khatikan, Chhai Khooni Chaunk, Bazaar Baansan, Loon Mandi,
I want to hear the rickshaw pullers and tongawalas say:
'Take care Khalsa ji' ... 'Watch our Sahib!'... 'Hold on, Bhai ji',
'Let me pass Lala ji'... 'Move away my friend'
As they weave their way through flocks of sheep, donkeys,
piles of sugarcane sticks, pedallers, carts
without hitting, hurting or trampling on anything or anyone'
Move from Amritsar, crossing Jalandhar, once the city of Urdu poet Hafiz Jalandhari of 'Abhi jao main jawan hoon' fame and come to the Manchester of India, Ludhiana of course, and you cannot but think of the great poets it nurtured: Sahir Ludhianvi and Ibn-E-Insha in Urdu and became home to Punjabi poet Mohan Singh and later Surjit Patar. The Government College Ludhiana, from where Sahir was rusticated in British times for his revolutionary poetry, now remembers him with pride. Sahir's famous ode to his college meets the eye engraved in full glory: 'I could never forget these portals, these terraces, If I could not be owned here, at least I was disowned from here (Ham in hi fizaon ke paale huye tao hain/ Gar yahan ke nahi, gar yahan ke nahi yan se nikale huye tao hain'.
This Ludhianvi is not included in this Magnum Opus but the woman poet who loved him greatly is featured with a poem. The reference of course is to one of the most celebrated poets of Punjabi, Amrita Pritam of course:
Today I effaced my house number
the name of the street at the very outset.
I wiped away the direction of every road.
And still if you must search me out
just knock at the door
in each street of each city of each country.
It's a curse and a benediction both
and wherever you find free soul
-that's my home!
The City Beautiful
Interestingly, Chandigarh finds its place in this Magnum Opus which has as many as 375 poems across 37 cities of India and all of 993 pages and so big that it slips from my hands every now then. It is interesting to note that in the crowd of ancient and medieval cities that India can boast of, the new city designed in the tradition of the West, manages to make space for itself in this collection. One reason for this is that it works as a contrast to our Delhi, Mumbai, Kolkata and more and the other that it had poets coming here from other cities and there were poems aplenty in comparing the different cultures of the new and old cities. I once recall the great story writer of Punjabi, Kulwant Singh Virk, asked me which city I belonged to in my days as a young journalist. I replied in earnest, 'Chandigarh'. Dismissing my statement, he said 'No one belongs to Chandigarh. 'Where did you come from?' 'I was born in Chandigarh'. Exasperated, he questioned me again about where my parents were from. Then I told him 'My mother was from Rawalpindi and my father from Lahore.' This brought a smile to his face and he exclaimed, ' So that makes you the daughter of three capitals!'
Interestingly, Moin-the editor, quotes famous writer Nirmal Verma from his treatise in 'Sugandh and Smriti' on how the metropolis is the centre of attraction: 'One can invite Le Corbusier to build a Chandigarh but one cannot import the values that turn a concrete structure into a home.' Yet he breaks this myth saying 'Each one of us has his own Chandigarh--Le Corbusier's town walls painted with blobs of Paan spittle. Where else can one come across a strange amalgam of modernity and Indianness?' Chandigarh is represented by poems of Malovika Pawar, Bernie Gourley, Tania Mehta and yours truly. Sadly our major poets like Kumar Vikal of Hindi and Amitoj of Punjabi, who contributed much to the mood of the city are not to be found and the reason for this is that translations of their works were not easily available.
Poet as a loafer
One congratulates Moin for creating this beautiful volume more so celebrating the poet as a loafer a la 'awara hoon'. In appreciation AE Stalins, Oxford professor of poetry says: As editor Bilal Moin points out, the poet of the Indian city is less French Flaneur than intellectual, sipping tea at a city than intellectual 'loafer', sipping tea at a cafe abuzz with flies and language.' Cheers all round.
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