Himal Interviews: ‘Daak’ and the Subcontinent’s women poets

In this episode of Himal Interviews, we bring you Onaiza Drabu and Prachi Jha, who talked to us of their literary project, Daak (daak.co.in), and the challenges and joys of exploring poetry from Southasia..As Drabu and Jha discussed in the podcast, the four poets whose poetry is read here come from different parts of the Subcontinent, each of whom displayed a unique brand of feminism and femininity, creating a lasting impact on their readers and listeners.."Women should be seen and not heard" was, and in some contexts continues to be, an oft-repeated talisman in schools, households and public spaces. The violence of the act of silencing women (and subsequently shaming them for being 'heard') is masked by the seemingly benign pretext of upholding their honour and respectability. The mere act of expression, of using their voice to talk about their experiences, becomes a powerful act of defiance..These four poets dared to be heard, and in the timelessness of their expression and articulation of the joys and trials of womanhood, their voices transcend geographies and politics..Habba Khatoon.Mahadevi Varma.Kamala Das.Amrita Pritam.Bara kiny vucchnamaiGara kamy hovnasaiZara zara thovnamaiChhu me baale tammana.He gazed at me through the doorWonder who showed him where I lived!And I ached with love in every limbForever a young girl I am in desire.//.Me ha kaer tseay kit poshi dasvaanaiChhav myaen daanai poshBe chasai zameen tei cze chukh asmaanaiSiras te chukh sarposh.Pretty posies I make for you,Come and enjoy my pomegranate bloom.I am the earth and you are the sky,You are the lid to cover the secret..//.Laej phulai anda vananTse kanan goi naa myonLaej phulai kwola saranVuathoo neeryan khasavoPhaej yosman anda vananTse kanan goi na myon.The distant meadows are in bloom.Have you not heard my call?Flowers bloom on mountain lakesCome let us ascend these meadows nowThe lilac blooms in distant woodsHave you not heard my call?.//.Laale gati manz tsong zaajaanaiBaale roodus na hoshTsu chhaham shama, bu chhas parvaanaiChhaav myaany daanai posh.Lost in her world of dreams, LeilaLit her lamp in the dark!I am the moth and you my lamp!Enjoy my pomegranate blossoms.(Translated from Kashmiri by Triloknath Raina and Shafi Shauq).***.Panth rehne do aparichit, pran rehne do akela.Anya honge charan haare,Aur hain jo laut-te, de shool ko sankalp saare,Dukhvrati nirman unmad,Yeh Amarta naapte pad,Baandh denge ank sansritiSe timir me swarna vela!.Doosri hogi kahaniyanShoonya me jiske mite swar, dhooli me khoyi nishani,Aaj jis par pralay vismit,Main lagati chal rahi nit,Motiyon ki haat au,Chingariyon ka ek melaPanth rehne do aparichit, pran rehne do akela!.Let the path be unknown, and you alone.Those feet must be someone else's, which were defeated,Which returned after surrendering their resolution to obstacles,My feet are different: unafraid of sorrow, eager to create,My feet measuring immortality,In their quest to reinventThey will create a golden era even in darkness..Those stories must be someone else'sThe sounds of which were destroyed in vacuum, and all traces lost in dust,My story is one which even amazes destruction,I create every day,A market of pearls,And a festival of sparks.Let the path be unknown, and you alone!.(Translated from Hindi by Prachi Jha and Ashok Kumar Jha) .Priye, main hoon ek paheli bhi.Jitna madhu, jitna madhur haasJitna mad teri chitvan meinJitna krandan, jitna vishaadJitna vish jag ke spandan mePi pi main chir dukh-pyas baniSukh-sarita ki rangoli bhi!.Mere pratiromon se avirat,Jharte hain nirjhar aur aag;Karti virakti aasakti pyar,Mere shwason me jaag jaag;Priye main seema ki godpaliPar hoon aseem se kheli bhi! .Dear one, I too, am a riddle.However much nectar, however much sweet laughter,However much intoxication in your glanceHowever much weeping, however much sadnessHowever much poison in the trembling of the universeDrinking it all, I have an ancient thirst for sadness,But also the merriment of the river of joy..Ceaselessly, from all pores of my being,Flows the torrent and the fire.I love detachment and desireAwakening in my breath.Dear one, I was cradled in the lap of limitation,But I have also played with the limitless..(From Mahadevi Varma: Political Essays on Women, Culture, and Nation by Anita Anantharam).***.An Introduction.Why not let me speak inAny language I like? The language I speak,Becomes mine, its distortions, its queernessesAll mine, mine alone..//.It is I who drink lonelyDrinks at twelve, midnight, in hotels of strange towns,It is I who laugh, it is I who make loveAnd then, feel shame, it is I who lie dyingWith a rattle in my throat. I am sinner,I am saint..The Looking Glass.Gift him what makes you woman, the scent ofLong hair, the musk of sweat between the breasts,The warm shock of menstrual blood, and all yourEndless female hungers..Herons.On sedativesI am more lovableSays my husbandMy speech becomes a mistladen terrainThe words emerge tinctured with sleepThey rise from the still coves of dreamsIn unhurried flight like herons…And my ragdoll limbs adjust better.To his versatile lust… he would if he couldSing lullabies to his wife's sleeping soulSweet lullabies to thicken its swoonOn sedativesI grow more lovableSays my husband.***.An excerpt from Kufr:.Eh mera te tera mel si,Asi pathraan di sej te sutteyTe akhaan honth unglaan potey,Mere te tere badan de akkhar baneyTe ohna oh aad-pustak anuvaad kitiRig ved di rachna ta bahut pichon di gall hai.First Book.That was our tryst, yours and mineWe slept on a bed of stonesAnd our eyes, lips and finger tips,Became the words of your body and mineThey then made translations of this first bookThe Rig Veda was compiled much later..(Translated from Punjabi by Prachi Jha and Ashok Kumar Jha).Kunwari .Main teri seja te jada paira dhariya siMein 'ika' nahin san – 'do' san.Ika salama vyahi, te ika salama kunwariSo tere bhog di khatiraMein us kunwari nu qatala karana siMein qatala kita si .Eha qatala jo qanuna jayaza hunde hanaSirf ohana di zillata najayaz hundi haiTe main usa zillata da zahera pita siTe fer ik parabhat veleIk lahu vich bhijje mein apne hatha vekhe sanHatha dhote sana.Bilakul usa tarahan jyon hora mushki anga dhone siPara jyonhi mein sheshe de samane huiOha samne khalotisiOhi jo apne jache mein raati qatl kiti si.O khudyaKi saej da hanera bohot gadha si?Mein kihanun qatala karana si, te kihanun qatala kar bethi?.Virgin.When I entered your bridal chamberI was not one but two persons.One's marriage had consummated and completethe other had remained a chaste virgin..To fulfil our unionI had to kill the virgin.And kill her, I did.Such murders are sanctioned by the lawOnly the humiliation accompanying them is illegal.So I drank the poison of humiliation..Came the dawn andI saw the dawnand I saw the blood on my hands.I washed themJust as I washed off the odors on my body..But when I saw myself in my mirror,there she was before me;The same one I thought I hadmurdered during the night..Oh, god!Was the bridal chamber so dark that I could not tellthe one I had slainfrom the one I did, in fact, kill..(Translated from Punjabi by Khushwant Singh).~ More recent interviews and podcasts by us.