PEOPLE’S
POET:
[125 TH ANNIVERSARY TRIBUTE TO THE GREAT BARD]
Courtesy:
N.Nandhivarman
Charming
and significant as the term is, it is a warm tribute not only to the poet but
also to the people for the people had had their monarchs and ministers, their
warriors and saviors, their seers and saints, miracle - mongers and priests,
but had no poets and from ages past there were poets in abundance, poets who
supplemented the scriptures or who polished the palaces by their poetry, but
poets who sang for and about the people in the people’s tongue were very rare.
The poets’ voice did the function of the temple bell or
the palace drum but rarely did that voice represent the innermost thoughts of
the people and when at times poets spoke about the people, it was to point out
to them how greedy and worldly they have become, how impermanent and illusory this
world is, how sinful is silver and how ungodly is gold, and such like sermons
that supplemented the royal rod and the whip of the aristocrat. Poets became in
due course one more important item in the Royal paraphernalia, one more
policeman who filed the case here and asked the high heavens to deliver the
judgment later on.
These
poets spoke in a different tongue altogether and were far from the people. They
despised the crowd from where they rose and used their poetic genius to gain
admission to the royal palace, and when once there, they went on weaving wordy
wreathes for monarchs of all sorts, provided his gold was pure. The poets of
the Sangam period are noble exceptions to this sorry rule and they are the
poets least known to the people of our days.
Poets
either became vendors of virtue in verses or became pleasure merchants, and
they found it hard and unprofitable to become the People’s Poets. That is the
reason why we find no outstanding people’s poet after the Sangam Age in Tamil
Nadu.
Virtue
itself came to be considered an investment for a happy life in another world.
Hence, poets who came after the advent of this false and pernicious theory
began to extol the particular bank of dispensation for which they were the self
appointed agents. Like the clever banker, or the active insurance agent, these
poets began to pour forth rhymes in abundance, about the soundness of their
Bank, about the delightful dividends and the bright prospects. If one poet gave
the people a sweet song about the powers of Garuda of Maha Vishnu, up rose
another to supply us with a sacred sonnet about the stately bull of Siva, or
the beautiful peacock of Muruga or even the ugly buffalo of the all powerful
god of death, Yama.
All
these poems were of the highest order, looked at from the artist’s point of
view. There was rhythm, diction, similes, metaphors, parables all in abundance
except reason. These poets thought that the temple bell did not work well and
thought it their duty to lend their poetic strength to supplement the sound
duty or no duty, it was such a paying job that there was a rush in that
direction. Poets assumed an attitude of superiority they enjoyed the common
men’s confusion, they tried to compromise contradictions and beautify
absurdities, they were loud in their denunciation of things worldly; the
worthlessness of human life, the littleness of mankind and they presented a
poetic picture of the unknown world heaven up above the clouds, and the hell
underneath the earth.
The
telescope was in the womb of science. Hence, heaven existed, and the poets
entertained the people with imaginary descriptions about the theological
worlds! The ignorant stood amazed and the intelligent adored the art and not
the thought.
Role
of a People’s Poet
It
is not easy to take up the role of a people’s poet. Bharati rose equal to this
stupendous task. It is easy to become the poet of the classes. Some sweet
sonnets about the silvery moon swimming in a sea of blue, some poems about the twinkle of the stars, fine poems about
the fragrance of the flower, the rhythm in rivers, lyrics about the love and
verses about valour, these are enough to secure a place of honour in the poet’s
gallery. But to discharge the duties of a people’s poet, one has to cross hurdles
of hatred, take many a dive into dangers and should not think about patronage
and popularity. Though a select circle of friends knew and spoke about the
poetic genius of Subramania Bharati, the people as a whole were almost unaware
of their poet till at a later stage, and then too it was the poems of a
political colour that was presented to the people, and not the poems which a
people’s poet alone can conceive and deliver.
We
had poets in abundance. The shepherd sleeping inside a temple forgetful of his
home and vocation, the goddess returning after her midnight supervision, the
smile on her lips on seeing the simpleton, her curious idea to make him a poet,
the gentle pat and the touch of the divine rod, the wonderful results these
were known to the people. One becomes a poet, because of the divine touch, and
it is his duty to sing devotional songs to a particular deity or to all. This
theory held the ground so strongly that the people were not prepared to meet
the people’s poet, even when one came forward. The people will cast a look of
contempt and suspicion on one who says boldly. “I am the people’s poet. I sing
for them and about them because I am one of them”. There would be no
recognition and the more radical his poems are, the more vehement will be the
opposition. And in this dangerous ground, we find Subramania Bharati, taking
steady steps victoriously.
The
State of Affairs when the Poet was born
Bharati
was born on the frontier of two eras; the feudal order was in full force in his
homeland. Ettayapuram had a palace surrounded by huts. Age old castes were
still in power. He himself was a Brahmin by birth but side by side with
feudalism and Sanathanic order of Society, modernism was peeping in. Industrial
revolution was dawning, the old order met the new with sorrowful eyes, and
there was a challenge in the look of the new era. Bharati was born during that
period and none could have imagined that he will become the warrior in the duel
between the old order and the new; for in the old order of things his was a
comfortable place.
He
was born, moreover, in this land of paradoxes, a land where arrogance and
humility, cruelty and kindness march together, where there is energy in
abundance and absurd contemplation strong enough to dissipate the energy, a
land of some dazzling ideas and millions of mute people, a land where there is
apoplexy at the center and anemia at the extremes, the land of courage as well
as fear, the land of faith as well as despair. Byron and Burke landed here just
then, only to meet Bharatam and Bagavatham. The booming of the gun became
familiar to the ears of the people and the age long temple drum was not silent
in such a land of paradoxes and perplexities.
Bharati
was born, and in such a land history moves but slowly and it needs a strong
push if it should move at all. Bharati’s claim to greatness rests chiefly on
this: he gave the push as the people’s poet.
Morning
Star of Reformation
Bharati
was not merely the bard of Nationalism. He was certainly the morning star of
reformation only because he was the people’s poet. He was angry with the
foreigner, and wanted his country to become free but that was not his goal that
was not to be his end. It was but the beginning. He wanted to free his country
men from all shackles, wanted them to rise up in the estimation of the world,
wanted to see a new land peopled by men and women of a new type altogether. He
found the people enveloped in fear. Fear was written on their very faces. They
were afraid of anything and everything. Not only did they fear the foreigner
and his gun but their own brethren chanting some slogans. They were afraid of
ghosts and phantoms.
Eradication
of Superstition
Such
a people cannot become the standard bearers of freedom and a land peopled by
such nature cannot lift its head high, and look straight at the world, even if
the foreign power is driven out. Hence Bharati wanted his countrymen, to drive
out fear from their mind to shed off inferiority complex.
He
instilled into their minds hope and courage, he placed before them their own
hidden powers and pointed out to them, how that innate power is being wasted,
the slumber of the masses, their gross ignorance, and superstition, their
inferiority complex and their caste prejudices. Bharathi saw clearly and he
determined to root out these evils and none but a people’s poet could have been
so deeply interested in these problems.
World
Freedom Movements and India
But
Bharati knew fully well, that it was the age of the common man, the era of
democracy and he wanted the people to fight for freedom. He did not deliver
mere devotional hymns to the divinities nor did he send poetic appeals to the
princes of the land. He addressed the man with the plough, the woman at the
cradle and even the children at the play grounds. He did not, like the poets of
a bygone age, point out ancient scripts in support of freedom, but placed
before the masses, the world events of importance, and the freedom movements of
distant lands. He announced to the people, the dawn of freedom in Italy through
the marvelous resurrection of the masses, thanks to Mazzini the patriot.
He
painted in glowing colours, the picture of France after the revolution, and placed
a brand new picture about Russia, free from the shackles of Czardom, free
Belgium, free France, Red Russia these were the pictures that he placed not the
theological land of Indra or Brahma and having placed these pictures, he also
presented them with a pen picture of country men at Fiji islands, and like
Shakespeare he asked, “Look at this picture and at that!” That is the people’s
poet. One who is not afraid of pointing out the follies and foibles of his own
people, one who is not afraid of showing to his own people, how slow they are
in thought and action whereas peoples of other lands were moving fast and
faster to a nobler sphere of activity and life. He was not afraid of the
privileged class, and did not falter to place the full facts before the people.
Projecting
a new vision altogether
As
the People’s poet it was his duty to unmask cant and hypocrisy wherever it was
to be found, and he did that with remarkable courage and enthusiasm.
There
is an attempt by interested parties to enlarge the portrait of Bharati, the
national bard, not entirely because they love that portrait but because they
think that portrait’s immensity will conceal from the public eye, the other
portrait, the portrait of Bharati, the people’s poet.
Bharati’s
poems are no mere hornets. The people’s poet was not afraid to lay bare the
absurdities of ancient systems and thoughts, and in almost infuriated tone, he
asks those who champion the cause of conservatism in very strong words, “Fools!
Do you argue, that things ancient ought, on that account, to be true and noble!
Fallacies and Falsehoods there were from time immemorial, and dare you argue
that because these are ancient these should prevail?”
“In
ancient times, do you think that there was not the ignorant, and the shallow
minded? And why after all should you embrace so fondly a carcass of dead
thoughts. Live in the present and shape the future, do not be casting lingering
looks to the distant past for the past has passed away, never again to return,
“so says Bharati and therein we meet.
He
gave a moral code for the masses, not unrelated to life, as some of the ancient
codes, were. He boldly differed from the ancient codes and placed before the
people, a new vision altogether. He refused to allow the thought of Maya
philosophy to have a hold on the people. He ridiculed that theory strongly and
infuriated the Ashramites, but he was not afraid of the consequences. “A people
immersed in such a thought,” Bharati said, “will become inactive, unprogressive
and such a people will become worthless”.
Service
to Humanity
Hunger
and poverty and ignorance, he will not tolerate, and he raises his powerful
voice against the tyranny of the rich, and threatens the whole world with dire
consequences even if a single individual is made to starve. He wants the people
to lead a full life, develop their faculties, improve their commerce,
industrialize their land and enjoy all the benefits of the new era. His
religion is not to be priest craft and slogan shouting: his religion is service
to humanity and brotherhood in the broadest sense.
The
Task of the people’s Poet
The
task that lies before the people’s poet is a mighty one. It is his task to make
the people realize new truth, take a new path, and get a new process of
valuation altogether. It is his task to release the people from the clutches of
the Astrologer, and place before them the Astronomer. His is the task to drive
out the Alchemist from the people’s mind so that the chemist can come in. His
is the task to push aside the priest so that the teacher can get a place. The
people’s poet has the mighty task of driving out the influence of the Miracle
monger so that the Medical man can find a place in the order of things.
Superstition is to be fought out so that science can flourish. In short, the
people’s poet has the task of a revolutionary and more difficult than that of
the revolutionary for the people are apt to mistake the tyrant for the saviour
and the saviour for the tyrant. He fought with courage and though the battle is
not over yet, and though he is no more alive he has given an armory of thought
enough for the successful termination of the fight and the best and lasting
tributes that one can pay to this people’s poet, is to continue the fight, the
fight for freedom of the people, in its fullest and noblest sense. And there
are men for the job and it will be finished.
Courtesy:
N.Nandhivarman
