History has always proved otherwise. Q: Your next collection, The False Start, is very personal, full of questions for the self. Orissa, its mapping, cartography and demographic reading does he, takes he in his poetry. Nevertheless, instead of bringing to book the rapist and helping to the victim, the latter is repeatedly raped by four policemen in the police station. And particularly seeing the condition of people, the poet considers death to be better than the life they live. I think I have always been in love with silence, and its destruction is, to me, as perhaps to everyone else, a matter of concern.
A wide range of poetic devices has been employed to bring out the mind's trappings in the flesh. So, for me, a poem is knit together by an inconceivable silence. I cannot explain this reverence with which I hailed him. At times I ask myself: Is this because, time and again one is appalled by the debilitating poverty I am exposed to as an Indian, living by the slums in the heart of this old, congested city? I would say I was lucky, for the reports of the readers were favourable. School, college and office going girls and women feel shame and inferiority in wearing traditional garments and clothes but they feel elated and elevated in making themselves naked and stripped to the extreme and, perhaps, this is one of the reasons of burgeoning incidents of eve teasing as such robes stir the stagnant and volcanic lust and passion of men. Simply the peacock wonders what made him dance to the rain, listening to the earth grow its flowers again.
If it does not take us higher, of what use is that poem? On the other hand, the client, tired and fatigued with the jobs of the day or not in good terms with his wife or miles away from home, family, wife and children to earn bread and butter, visits and pays the whore to have a kind of enlightenment and refreshment; a play and foreplay before the final play. Before getting name and fame in India, he had been famous elsewhere as he used to send his poems to foreign journals. Any way across this earth, over the water? He is so abstract and condensed that words fail to claw at. Finally, I'd like to admit that studying physics and then going on to teach it for years has made me aware, intensely in some ways, of this world we inhabit; it tells me where I am. Wherever they go, evil and vulgar eyes of men stare at their sensuous limbs. And is made of dead leaves that echo the wind coming through, laden and wide with skies, that will not divide us from our deaths. He has not writtern poetry as for laying it bare.
The inevitable wound that poverty had gifted him with. Were you then aware of your immediate predecessors in India and abroad? Jayanta Mahapatra was given the Lifetime Achievement Award at the last edition of Tata Lit Live. It gives you unmistakably another level of experience. Cuttack, Orissa, Students' Store, 1969. It made this 20-something writer wonder how she will evaluate her own life, 70 years from now. Though word-play, imagistic penetration, vacant thinking and random reflection seem to be the chief properties of the poet, but instead of it, he has added to it substantially. She never said anything, my wife, Runu.
His modernism can be seen in manner, form and in complex symbolic mode. Just go to and hit the Subscribe button. But there is a strong over confidence and a sort of overpowering feeling that you are a Hindu. The people struggle to find Him and pray to Him while the priest extracts money from them and leads a luxurious life. When I began writing in English, I had attained a certain perfection.
The hunger of the stomach makes the girls sell themselves in exchange for the hunger of the body. I am just devoted to my writing. Light and darkness are the things of his poetry. As I have mentioned above. Jayanta cannot be Jayanta if we talk not about Orissa, Oriya history, culture and tradition. Sitting in the poetic studio, he makes the images of his own through photo-negatives.
I must try to understand it well. Q: You started writing poetry in the late Sixties. A: There was just this urgency of writing at that time. He comes out with a solution for the pain and predicament they are confronted with. And poetry, its form as we all know, is a meeting place between the inward and the outward.
Trained as a scientist, he taught college physics for thirty-six years. Over and over the sticky soot crossed the space of my mind. And what is the predominant feeling when you reach the end of the door? Physics is his subject and this oten intercepts him and he turns to it as for the utilization of the readily available stuff. Why do the talks even do around? As I complete the picture of a man who calls his dog, pets it, to make such things of life his own, I hear again and again a small explosion. It makes me regain my confidence in my work, and I can take pride and joy in the labours of writing poems. Sent them to the Illustrated Weekly of India here in Bombay but they all came back with rejection slips which I still treasure. Though the real tragedy does not lie in the transaction but in the casual acceptance of the transaction.