Vimal Chitra’s “Khwaab” (the second in the series of three poets reading their own poems as a runup to Sunday’s event - New Language) is searing in its poetry of rupture. Using the metaphor of a dream, this poem is a revolutionary call that intersperses dialogue with the earthiness of toiling hands whose lives are tied to the soil. What I find especially interesting is that even in its takedown of privilege and the oppressive, luxurious upper caste gaze, Vimal finds a dark lyricism of hope.
“हाथ में क़लम है तो
वक़्त का अलम है तो
दिल में ताब ज़िंदा है
आज़ाद जिस में लिखखा था
वो किताब ज़िंदा है
तब भी ख़ाब ज़िंदा थे
अब भी ख़ाब ज़िंदा है”
I’m quoting from what I had written when I first shared Vimal’s poetry on poetly:
I’m absolutely thrilled today to share the work of a young poet who I met through poetry, and through the persistent creeper of shared love for artistic truth that curls between poets and friends. Vimal Chitra's (@titatongali) poems don’t sugarcoat it. There are no frills, no curved edges and child locks, just the bare nakedness of knowing, feeling and having seen. For the poet, poetry becomes the one real shot, an impulsive jolt of meaning that winds around its centrifugal energy every last stain of life - nothing more, or less, than speaking. That is what I want to leave you with today, as I share his words.
Vimal will be reading his poems along with Rajutai and Srividya Sivakumar on Sunday, October 4th. Mark your calendars:
Use this link to join the zoom meeting: https://bit.ly/2S97zWG
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