Poetry

Amarjit Singh Chandan: Roots and Rootlessness

by NONIKA SINGH

 

"Roots remind me of the Root Infinite, the source of everything." 

That's Amarjit Singh Chandan, the celebrated poet rooted in Punjabi soil - its chaste language and ethos - yet spanning continents, the universe, the timeless zone.

Living in the United Kingdom where his poetry is etched in a 40-feet-long sculpture, he seeks and finds refuge in his language. And just as the lines read, "Far, far away on a distant planet there lies a stone unseen unturned, it can only be seen with closed eyes as you see your loved ones," he, too, can see and feel Punjab with closed eyes.

Only, his Punjab transcends geographical boundaries, is about an imagined "Punjabiland" and he is addressing Punjabis everywhere, anywhere they live.

Of course, in the United Kingdom it is a significant number. Thus, he views the publication of his recent book Sonata For Four Hands by the UK Arc publications as an affirmation of the language's contribution to English poetry and the monumental sculpture celebrating his poetry once again as a tribute to Punjabi.

Language in his lexicon is memory, indeed collective memory. Any wonder, he digs out typical words from that collective consciousness.

"Words", he rues, "which have faded from everyday conversations as also literary pursuits form the language of my poetry".

No, he doesn't fear that Punjabi will become extinct. He rubbishes all reports which make such dismal prophecies. Rather, he smirks, "That is crying wolf. How can a language that is spoken by a 100 million people across the world die in 50 years, if at all?"

But he is dismayed by the manner in which its grammar and syntax has been tampered with. He continues to stand by unadulterated Punjabi even though his love for the language itself may seem inexplicable. Why, the man who translates the smells and flavours of Punjabiyat in his poetic images did not even grow up in Punjab but was born in Kenya, where his father migrated way back in 1929?

"But poetry," he insists, "is in my blood," as he grew up listening to his father, a poet and Ghadar Kirti party leader, talk of Puran Singh, Bhai Veer Singh and Waris Shah. Later, the exposure to the world's best, like Pablo Neruda, he confesses, did give him a head start. While he has edited and translated over 30 anthologies of poetry, fiction and creative non-fiction of Brecht, Neruda, Ritsos, Hikmet, Vallejo, Cardenal and John Berger in Punjabi, his own poetry has been extensively translated and published in prestigious magazines.

"Translation," he confesses, "may not do full justice to the original but is a significant bridge."

And it is because of this link that today his poetry is being extolled. Not only in Punjab and India, where he has received the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Languages Department, Punjab, and was conferred the Anad Kav Samman in 2009, he also has critics abroad gushing, like John Berger:

"Amarjit Chandan's poetry transports its listeners or readers into an arena of timelessness. What he does is to fold time; time in his poems becomes like an arras or a hinged screen".

Timeless, mystical or simply exploring human relationships, Amarjit refuses to be pigeon-holed. And one question he simply abhors is: what is your poetry about? Poetry to him is pure poetry, close to one's heart and an emotional appeal.

So, even in the heyday of political activism, when he endorsed the Naxal philosophy, he shares, "None of my poetry was overtly political". But then poetry, he asserts is not coined, albeit revealed, and poetic thoughts occur to him like manna from heaven. Of course, the trigger could be a chance encounter or deep profound influence or impressions buried deep within the subconscious. And it could descend on him anywhere, say, while walking down the street. So, he keeps his pen and paper handy.

Of paper, he writes: "The paper sees with the eyes of the pen. It speaks with colours. It hears with alphabets. The language is the soul of the paper".

In fact, Amarjit lives every word, its soul and its essence. So, when he reads out his poems at Lahore and in Chandigarh, it becomes a theatrical performance. He himself is surprised by the actor in him. But then his role models have been poets like Mehmood Darvesh Yevtushenko and Voznesensky. All praise for contemporary Punjabi poets, too: he singles out Surjit Singh Patar, especially his poem Aaaya Nand Kishore and Ajmer Singh Rode.

Even if the Punjabi diaspora has different concerns, he says, "Everybody is uprooted in the 20^th century. Rootlessness is a predicament of human existence."

Thus mapping memories and recording images, his search for roots becomes a quest that transcends time and space. A voice within urges him: "Go and search the word lamp made of earth, go and search the word".

 

TWO POEMS

by Amarjit Singh Chandan

 

UNTITLED

Such munificence is your touch

Even in memories I come out of nothingness

I'm walking up the hill in the snowstorm
You are with me
Our sight covers a vast expanse of landscape
My freezing reluctant hand finds warmth
                     in your coat pocket
You're embarrassed and your arm becomes stiff
We talk interminably
           but our thoughts are there in the pocket
Our hands sitting back to back
Then God knows who touched whom first
Our fingertips felt a strange shock
Hands came out abruptly like scared birds
            bursting out of a cage

We are walking up the hill in the snowstorm
Our minds are still in the pocket
Such munificence is your touch
Even in memories I come out of nothingness

[Translated from the original in Punjabi by the author with Stephen Watts]

 

 

TOMORROW

After seeing Theo Angelopoulos' film Eternity and a Day

Tomorrow is eternity and a day.

Tomorrow will last longer
          followed by a white night.

Tomorrow is the long kiss.

Tomorrow is what is not present.

Tomorrow is the dream we'll share
          in the present moment of time.

Tomorrow is the flower about to blossom
          not to be seen by anyone.

Tomorrow is the day when all the clocks will break.

Whatever is to happen is Tomorrow.
Tomorrow is death.
Tomorrow is life.

[Translated from the original in Punjabi by the author]

 

BIO

Amarjit Singh Chandan (b. 1946, Nairobi, Kenya) has published five collections of poetry and two books of essays in Punjabi, notably: Jarhān (poems) and Phailsufiān and Nishāni (essays). He has edited and translated about 30 anthologies of Indian and world poetry and fiction by, among others, Brecht, Neruda, Ritsos, Hikmet, Cardenal and John Berger in Punjabi. He was one of ten British poets selected by Andrew Motion, the Poet Laureate, on National Poetry Day in 2001 and participated in the International Alderburgh Poetry Festival the same year. At present working on a British Library Sound Archive Project, Between Two Worlds: Non-Anglophone Poets in England: Readings and Histories.  

 

[Courtesy: The Tribune]

February 19, 2010 

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