Witnesses of Remembrance: Selected new poems by Kunwar Narain, translated by Apurva Narain. Westland. Pages 274. Rs 599.
Book Title: Witnesses of Remembrance: Selected new poems
Author: by Kunwar Narain, translated by Apurva Narain.
Sandeep Sinha
The evolution of Hindi has seen a rich tapestry of literature that has not only enriched the language, but also sought to extend its reach. Hindi continues to flourish as an acceptable medium of communication aided in no small measure by the efforts of men and women whose works have embellished it over the years. Even today, efforts are being made to propagate it in countries with shared cultural similarities, like Mauritius, Nepal and the West Indies, that saw migration from the Indian mainland to serve colonial interests during the British rule.
Inside the country, with states having their own prosperous literature in local languages, disagreement over the perceived efforts to impose Hindi may continue to arise from time to time. However, the free flow of people from all regions across the length and breadth of the country has led to a certain degree of familiarity with the language.
A genre of writers sought to break Hindi from the confines of mythology, folklore and local surroundings by treading a new path, of Nai Kavita or New Poetry, of which Kunwar Narain has been a strong proponent. Their works were progressive and experimental with political intonations and a global perspective. Focused and conversational, adopting the free verse, evoking imagery and minimalism, it believed in the larger cause of humanity, as the lines in the poem ‘Angkor Wat’ say: “Beneath the banyan tree; a bodhisattva in contemplation; against some Pol Pot’s reality; the forest of art and tranquility; begets a surreality of supreme compassion.”
The book has been wonderfully translated — a difficult feat to achieve — by the poet’s son Apurva Narain, himself a man of no mean accomplishments. We are informed that this is the first book length translation of Kunwar Narain’s poems to appear after his passing away in 2017, a wide-ranging selection among these being from his latest five collections. The bilingual edition is also substantive with over a hundred poems.
Kunwar Narain’s life encompassed some of the most eventful decades and the work recounts memorable moments like his meeting with Pablo Neruda at Warsaw in 1955:
“Half a century ago at a delicate cusp; I had met Neruda in a war-ravaged city; fast returning towards life.”
The poet’s life interspersed with some of his great contemporaries like Kedarnath Singh, Shrikant Verma and Sarveshwar Dayal Saxena. There are lines that describe his feelings on the death of poet Muktibodh:
“On the path to realisation; when the daily world recedes and a person moves ahead; how strangely one has to part from one’s own self.”
Interestingly, there are prescient poems that connect with today’s reality. Like ‘The Pandemic of Numbers’:
“The doctor explained — this virus of numbers is unfurling like wildfire these days; it affects the brain straightaway; suddenly he felt the doctor’s face had transformed into a red alert; warning against some imminent danger; and he, lacerated by numbers, was screaming away — we are people even now, not numbers.”
Unlike the chill in relations with China now, the poet had a sketch made of him by a Chinese poet-friend which made his reflect:
“Perhaps I was roving about on some silk road, stringing nations together.”
Poetry as an art form is evocative and influences individuals, not always agreeably. But, above all, the wish is as the last poem says: “If only by as much as a poem; I have to somehow stay linked to all.”
Kunwar Narain is a success on that count despite his reticence.
