Curated and translated from the Hindi by Ambrish
Editorial note: This is not an essay, but a work of curation. It contains a brief introduction of the poets, translation of eight poems from Hindi, and contextual notes on the poems. The original Hindi poems can be found at the archival website kavitakosh.org.
Dr. Omprakash ‘Krityansh’ is a physician and litterateur. He was born in Bihar and graduated in Medicine from Ranchi. He has published poetry and fiction in various magazines and anthologies. He was awarded the Sant Kavi Ravidas Kavi Ratna by Ujjain Sahitya Akademi. His poetry collection Bahut Bura Aadmi was published in 2019.
The following poem narrates a quick drama around the moustache of a peon figure. This year in March, Jitendra Meghwal of Pali district in Rajasthan, was stabbed for keeping a moustache, which to many upper castes is an intolerable assertion and aspiration of the Dalit man. The headlines of newspapers tell us that violence and killings for keeping a moustache or riding a wedding-horse, in effect for aspiring for the ‘higher’ lifestyle, is not uncommon in India. The caste order is deeply invested in showing people their places (aukaat) both through subtle behavioural monitoring as well as through explicit violence. The winner of the JCB Prize for Literature in 2020, S Hareesh’s Malayalam novel Moustache, weaves an enigmatic tale around the Dalit moustache and the disruption it can cause.
Ramtahal’s Moustache/Omprakash ‘Krityansh’
Ramtahal chaprasi, the peon,
Whenever he encountered
The Bada Sahib
Head bowed/ slackening his taut moustache
Dishevelling his hair
Arranging the gamchhi on his shoulder
And putting on reins of decorum
On his tongue/ but
Damn/ he had forgotten that day
To slacken his moustache
And that’s it, such a trivial matter,
The Sahib went all haywire
All his pride crumbled to dust
For him, then, Ramtahal’s chest
Seemed like a frightening rock
Ramtahal, appeared colossal
And sure enough that made
The Sahib turn into
A volcano/ spewing fire
And then
Ramtahal brought his hands together
Perhaps he thought/ the moustache is not
More important
Than the bread!
*
The following are two poems by Rambharat Pasi. We could not find any details about him anywhere online. Only a few of his poems are available on Kavita Kosh. In these short verses, we see a fierce warning against the changing times and a call to reflect on our politics. In the second poem, the Hindi phrase “thehra hua aadmi” has been translated as ‘a neutral person’; although, it has connotations of stillness, stagnancy, apoliticalness, indifferentism.
In Time/ Rambharat Pasi
Bury in time
Deep in the ground
All those rotten traditions
Before they stink up
Like a corpse
Otherwise it’ll be
Impossible to refute –
Unlike the word ‘fire’
On a bucket full of sand or water –
This hideous stain
On your robe
A Neutral Person/ Rambharat Pasi
Those harbouring delusions of supremacy
May create as many classes as they want--
For this much is certain
That humans belong to only two groups now
Which side will you pick?
To remain alive
You have to decide
Because
The blind victim of
A violent mob is
A neutral person!
*
Mohandas Naimishray has contributed immensely to the evolution of Dalit Literature to its modern form. He was born in 1949 in Meerut, Uttar Pradesh. After acquiring an education against all odds, he briefly worked as a lecturer in a college in Meerut before going on to devote the rest of his life to Dalit journalism and literature. As a journalist, he raised issues related to Dalits and the problems they were facing in many national newspapers and magazines. He was equally frank and fearless as an author. His short stories expose the cruelty of feudalism and caste-based exploitation. His autobiography is published in three parts: Apne-Apne Pinjare (Part 1), Apne-Apne Pinjare (Part 2) and Rang Kitne Sang Mere (Part 3). Among his published works are Awazein (1998), Hamara Jawab (2005) and Dalit Kahaniyan (collections of short stories); Kya Mujhe Kharedoge, Muktiparva, Aaj Bazar Band Hai, Jhalkari Bai, Mahanayak Ambedkar, Jakhm Hamare and Gaya Mein Ek Adad Dalit (novels); Adalatnama and Hello Comrade (plays); and Safdar Ek Bayan and Aag Aur Andolan (anthology of poems). In addition, he has authored Dalit Patrakarita Ek Vimarsh (four volumes), Dalit Andolan ka Itihaas (four volumes) and Hindi Dalit Sahitya. He was the editor at Dr Ambedkar Foundation, Government of India, for almost six years. He has also edited the Bayan magazine. In 2011, he was honoured for his exemplary social and literary contributions by Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar National Institute of Social Science, Mhow, Madhya Pradesh. [Source: forwardpress.in]
In the poem below, the poet makes an overt reference to the Gandhi-Ambedkar ‘debate’. In a matter of few lines, we’re made to realize the subterranean conflict in the anti-caste politics today-- that between Gandhian reformism and Ambedkarite radicalism-- the revisionism versus complete ‘annihilation’. Words are not mere expressions in language but the very mechanisms to recognize (or alter and manipulate) the truths of oppression and the oppressed. To recognize this in our literary endeavours and in our politics is very crucial.
Words/ Mohandas Naimishray
Words strike hard -
As Dalit against Harijan
And Harijan against Dalit
Words are represented by men
As Ambedkar against Gandhi
And Gandhi against Ambedkar
When the chests of Dalits
Are riddled with holes
Words emerge
Words become sharp-edged
Words indeed
Were written in Manusmriti
Ramraj has long departed
But Shambooka’s screams still echo
Like the cut marks whipped on Dalits’ backs
Words don’t sob, they speak
They strike hard--
As Dalit against Harijan
And Harijan against Dalit
*
Ramnika Gupta (1930–2019) was an Indian writer, activist and politician. She was the founder and president of Ramnika Foundation, member of the CPI(M), a tribal rights champion, former trade union leader, politician, writer and editor. She was the coordinator of the All India Tribal Literary forum. She was a member of the Bihar Legislative Assembly from 1979–1985. Gupta was an activist for labour rights, women rights, Dalit and tribal rights focusing on coal mine workers of Jharkhand. Some of her published works are on these topics. Her autobiography is titled Haadsey aur Aaphudri. She published a novel called Sita Mausi, a collection of stories titled Bahu Juthai. Some of her poetry works are Tum Kaun, Til Til Nootan, Main Azaad Hui, Aadam Se Aaadmi Tak, Vigyapan Bantey Kavi. In prose she has written Dalit Hastakshep, Kalam Aur Kudaal Ke Bahaane, Dalit Chetna, Assam Narsanhaar- Ek Rapat, Dakshin Vaam Ke Katgharey, Rashtriya Ekta.
The poem here is a creative attempt, in terms of vigorous imagery and allegories both of oppression and of resistance. The poet’s refusal to carry the oppressor upon her shoulder, like the mythical burden of Betaal upon the adventurous Vikram, is a forceful casting away of the oppressed’s passivity and a recognition of their active socio-political agency.
A Donkey’s Head/ Ramanika Gupta
I’m an elephant for the hands
A horse for the legs
On my head you’ve planted
The head of a patient donkey
Like an ox labouring at a crusher
You covered my eyes with leather blinders
Hammered over my mind horseshoe of passivity
That’s why
I toil like a donkey at yours’
I am ploughed like an ox
You had told me that
I too am a progeny of God
Who is also your father
But I have a bitter fate to endure
For several life cycles
That’s why
I am a forced labour
And labour on I must
Till the end of eighty-four crore birth cycles
But now I have learnt
Not of God’s
But a progeny of the Ape I am
Who is not just mine but your father too
I have suffered not a bitter fate
But your harsh conspiracy
I have ploughed- bearing the yoke of your social order
Powered by these very elephant of my hands
The horse of my legs
Gave it speed and momentum
The donkey-head
The hard work
Without any thought or ever realising
Carried your load on my back
My own slavery I accepted to be
My fate
Like the Betaal
You latched
On to my shoulders
Upon answering questions
You hung my intellect - upside down
And yet, to carry you—
Upon my shoulders
I return again and again
But
I won’t return now/ for carrying you
Upon my shoulders
I won’t let you hammer
Horseshoe of passivity
Upon my intellect!
*
Navendu Maharshi (1955-) is a writer and poet from Bijnour, Uttar Pradesh. He is known for his anti-caste works of great sensibility. Some of his works are Kavita Mein Ghar, Mook Manav, Bharat Dalit Kranti. In the following poem, he ridicules the casteist originary myth of the four varnas and reads the birth of Shudras in a different light.
Out of Brahma’s Mouth/ Navendu Maharshi
You have described quite
system of caste
That Brahmins are born
Out of Brahma’s mouth
That is why they
Find pleasure in food
Kshatriyas- born out of the hands
That is why they
Have a thing for looting
Vaishyas- born out of the stomach
That is why they’re
Inclined towards hoarding
And Shudras- born out of the feet
That is why they
Know being industrious!
*
Asang Ghosh is a representative Dalit voice in contemporary Hindi poetry. From a young child helping his father mend shoes as a family vocation, Asang Ghosh went on to complete his PhD. He eventually became a civil servant in Madhya Pradesh government and is presently working with All India Administrative Services. He has authored 8 books of poetry and has short stories published in multiple Hindi journals. Besides numerous Indian cities, he has also been invited to Sri Lanka, China, Egypt, and Bali to recite his poetry. He has won numerous awards, which include Madhya Pradesh Dalit Sahitya Akademi Award (2002), Srijangatha Samman (2013), Guru Ghasidas Samman (2016), and Bhawani Das Singh Award (2017). [Source: Bengaluru Poetry Festival]
In the following poem, the Earth is addressed and the blame is put upon the dwijas, or the twice-borns, the upper castes. The analogy of ‘seed’ is used to paint a picture of horrific injustice that has largely been the history of the subcontinent. It is a pressing question that the Dalit-Bahujan-Adivasi protests cry of everyday in different contexts: ‘Will you still remain silent?!’
Will You Still Remain Silent?/ Asang Ghosh
Listen
O Earth!
Your dear dwija sons
Harassed us and then
Kept trampling upon you!
They raped you
And impregnated
Your womb
With seed of injustice
Of which I have been a witness
For centuries
Brought atrocities upon me
Tied my legs
With casteist chains
They kept me
From giving my testimony
But you still, silently
Kept on watching
And that monstrous seed
Inside your womb
Attaining moisture
Will germinate
Bloom into a plant and
Will carry on the atrocities even today
Just like yesterday
Will you
Even now
Remain apathetic!
And keep silent?
*
Susheela Takbhore, born in 1954 in Hoshangabad of Madhya Pradesh, is one of the leading female voices in Dalit literature. Her struggles against caste as a woman inform her work. She obtained her PhD in 1992 and then taught at a college till 2012. Her novels Neela Aakash, Vah Ladki, Tumhein Badalna Hi Hoga are deeply influenced by Ambedkarite values. Her poetry collections are Swati Boond aur Khare Moti, Yah Tum Bhi Jaano, Hamare Hisse ka Sooraj; the plays she wrote are titled Rang aur Vyangya, Nanga Satya. Her autobiography Shikanje ka Dard was published in 2011. Many of her works are included in university syllabi. She was honoured with the Savitribai Phule Samman by the Ramanika Foundation.
The poem here is an excruciating cry of the Dalit, who can no longer bear the casteist suffering. The reference to Rama, Sita, Kans, Shambooka are a reminder of the connection between our oral mythologies (and therefore the practiced religion) and our moral codes. ‘Shambooka’ was a Shudra ascetic, mentioned in Valmiki Ramayana, who was beheaded by Rama as punishment for doing penance/ meditation, which a brahmin had claimed was the cause of his son’s death. Ambedkar in Annihilation of Caste mentions that such transgression (of a Shudra attempting to be a Brahmin) was a threat to the varna system and therefore, Rama killed him out of a sense of duty; since Rama-rajya was based on the ideals of varna system.
Harvests of Pain/ Susheela Takbhore
Earthquake causes agony--
I am tormented
Of the inhuman behaviour
Of human towards human
Which like an earthquake
destroys
The foundations of humanity
Centuries have passed
You haven’t let us become humans--
Pains kept harvesting
Along with the crops
The more we slash them
The wilder they grow
O Shabri’s Rama!
Stop showing sympathy
With your eyes averted
It was indeed you who
Compelled Sita to sink into the earth
Since then
Sita, full of faith, devotion and love
Again and again
Has been buried in the earth
That’s why
The crops of pain
Have been harvesting
But today
Janaki has figured it all out
Not in the earth but
The sky is where she wants to go
Like the daughter of Devaki
Wants to, blazing like a lightening,
Send a message about-
The end of your Kans-like mentality
Hey Rama!
Stop with this discrimination
Between two humans
Stop murdering Shambooka
Because as of now
We will search for our own morning
We have learnt to hold the sun in our eyes
We have learnt to contain
The moon in our fist
Soon we will learn
To put time itself in captivity!
Ambrish is a past student of science. He is currently jobless, living in Dehradun with his mother, and is trying his hands at creative writing. He spends most of his time in random reading and film watching. He currently feels that he wants to make films in the future.