Winners took nothing

Sanjeev Suri

I was one of the three judges at a students’ poetic symposium at a private university. The Dean had read some of my published poems and included me on the panel. The first contestant read out his poem, then the  second, then the third... But to my utter disbelief, discomfort and embarrassment, I could not understand the poems! They were obscure, strange and unpoetic. I didn’t know which Ezra Pound they had plundered to acquire their poetic possession. Clearly, they had mischievously tried to hoodwink us by creating phoney poems in the name of the complexity in modern English poetry.  

I discussed my confusion with the fellow judges who, raising their brows in surprise, just gave me a wry smile and kept awarding them marks. My reputation as a poet and an academician might be at stake, I might be mocked at, but I wasn’t ready to deceive myself by marking them on poems that were humbug. My award-sheet remained ensconced within the file. 

It was now clear to me what I would   do. The moment the last contestant left the stage after reading out his poem, I made a request to the organisers to grant me five minutes to address the audience. ‘You may have enjoyed  today’s symposium, but honestly, I couldn’t understand a single poem. Although it may seem odd to you and some of you may dislike me for this, but I can’t be dishonest intellectually by feigning understanding of the poems. My sense of understanding English poetry is not bad, but these poems didn’t  sound like poems. My apologies for embarrassing the management and my worthy teammates,’ I said. The nodding heads in the front rows were an endorsement of my views. 

The chief guest, the Divisional Commissioner, himself a literary luminary  with four anthologies of poetry to his credit, echoed my views: ‘I appreciate the professor who has shown the moral courage to differ.’  

Then came the time for prize distribution. As expected, the event  turned out to be an insipid affair: no clapping and silence prevailed. The winners  walked silently with their long faces to the stage to collect their prizes. One of the judges taunted me: ‘Sir,  you have taken the sheen off the ceremony which could have been a memorable event for the awardees.’ I kept quiet. But soon, he got a befitting reply when one of the winners, speaking on behalf of the contestants, announced that ‘all of us lifted the poems from a little-known website. We read them without making any effort to comprehend their meaning. Following our conscience, we have decided to surrender our prizes.’ The auditorium erupted in a thunderous applause. 

 I saw the ‘worthy’ judges grinning sheepishly.