World Poetry Day 2015

March 20, 2015 05:55 pm | Updated 05:55 pm IST

“A poet's work . . . to name the unnamable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world and stop it from going to sleep.”

- Salman Rushdie

You cannot imagine the unbelievable self- inflicted pressure I am going through right now. The raison d'etre of my column is just poetry and its magic – and here’s a day celebrating just that. And I am writing about it. Hold on, please. My palpitations are getting the better of me.

Every year on March 21st, the world celebrates poetry and poets all over the world. An initiative of the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), World Poetry Day is an opportunity to be part of this magnificent genre of writing, reading and being.

In a tribute to tradition, so much of the festivities involve recitations and readings of poems. By uttering the words, we forever link our lives together.

To see a beloved poem evoke a smile or cheer or even a chorus of voices saying the lines is heartening.

What is it about poetry that enthrals so many of us? Despite the struggles, books are being published; individual works and valuable, seminal anthologies of verse see the light of the day and thrive in the love they are embraced with. I think poetry appeals for a variety of reasons. One, it is instant gratification. In a world where people are constantly complaining about not having enough time, what is better than a poem?

A few lines or a few pages and you have a result, an outcome. Poetry often conveys more than full-length novels or movies do. For instance, these lines by Hans Christian Andersen, “To move, to breathe, to fly, to float/To gain all while you give/To roam the roads of lands remote/To travel is to live.”

In Ars Poetica? , Czesław Miłosz sheds light on the curious creature that is a poem. He says that, “In the very essence of poetry there is something indecent:/a thing is brought forth which we didn’t know we had in us/so we blink our eyes, as if a tiger had sprung out/and stood in the light, lashing his tail.” He speaks of the “pride of poets” and wonders where it comes from, “when so often they’re put to shame by the disclosure of their frailty.” I found myself rejoicing in his words. “The purpose of poetry is to remind us/how difficult it is to remain just one person/for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors/and invisible guests come in and out at will.

What I'm saying here is not, I agree, poetry,/as poems should be written rarely and reluctantly/under unbearable duress and only with the hope/that good spirits, not evil ones, choose us for their instrument.”

It’s the statement of how difficult it is to be just one person that brings me to the second reason for the popularity of poetry – it allows for interpretation and discussion. A poem isn’t just one poem. In its many versions, in its being understood by numerous readers, in its being rendered as song, skit or sketch, it becomes new, anew.

I think it is remarkable if a writer’s work is not his or her exclusive property but can become mine too, when I read it the way I want to. This interesting space of ‘is’ and ‘could be,’ is the haven that poetry occupies. In a way, it teaches us about the ambiguous nature of so many aspects of life – relationships, society, work, writing.

When possibilities aren’t limited and the mind has the freedom to interpret at free will in a bid, not to criticise or mock, but to understand, poetry elevates itself and us.

I wish you all poetic nights, profound days.

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