For twenty minutes, I travelled with two artists, two poets, and 40 wide-eyed Chennai-ites in a metro train. I’d like you to join me, as I relive the poetry, art and reverie.
It was a balmy evening. Sudden bouts of rain and round-the-clock drizzles over the last few days made everything damp, without the romance of rain. It was now time for Chennai’s signature sweltering heat that I can feel despite the shade of the metro station.
The poets – Sampurna Chattarji and Karthika Nair – and the artists – Roshni Vyam and Joell Jolivet – boarded the 4:20 to Shenoy Nagar, along with a group of people that defied demographics.
French-Indian poet Karthika Nair got right to it, the moment the sterile voice said; "doors closing".
I missed the first few lines of the poem. Her voice, and the very French, yet mildly Malayali accent held my attention. I listened to the words without really taking them in, and I was content with this for a minute or so.
Unknowing this would be their last duet; Unsullied by grief, horror; The end of nameless freedoms; And other kinds of unbeingExcerpt from Karthika Nair’s poem in the train
Meanwhile, Joelle Jolivet, an illustrator, drew on post-its. She drew everything she set eyes on.
Jolivet lives in France, but appears to have a continuing love affair with Madras. Her illustrations are simple and child-like, with surprising details that have no business in a tiny post-it. She has collaborated with Karthika Nair on the poet’s book for children, The Honey Hunter.
She has the smile of a five-year-old, devoid of affectation. But she smiled sparingly, and spent most of her time staring. And drawing.
Karthika Nair’s poem was about the sights and sounds of a city in France. And as she narrated it – her voice amplified by a portable mic – much was lost in translation, especially the generous sprinkling of French. But this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, for there was something about the mixture of languages that seemed to appeal to the motley crowd.
A homemaker with her five-year-old daughter, a septuagenarian retired government servant, a group of school girls from the government school, a weekend golfer, a fifty year old mother-in-law... Karthika Nair’s poetry and Joelle’s art connected them all.
Sampurna Chattarji picks up right where Karthika stops. Like an eclectic game of Antakshari, the poem traverses continents. And from France, we suddenly find ourselves – with a sense of unbeing – at Charni Gate, Mumbai.
Another kind of unbeing occurs; when he gets off the train at Charni road.Church Gate to Charni Road, by Sampurna Chattarji
Sampurna changes the cityscape whizzing past the windows of the train, from the heart of Chennai, to the suburbs of Mumbai, where the local train plies. And while the protagonist is someone else, and the focus shifts from first person, the feeling the words evoke continue to be personal.
All the way-stations in his deviant geography; His splintered psychology; He not single anymore; Nor a single shard of shadow....Church gate to Charni road, by Sampurna Chattarji
Joelle’s post-its are blue, and stick-on flimsily on her dress. Roshni Vyam’s post-its are yellow, and on a board. They are individual illustrations that also bleed into each other, forming a whole.
Roshni Vyam is a Gond artist. The Gonds are one of India’s largest tribes and are spread across central India, and parts of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana. Some of them speak a language akin to Telugu, while the others speak a hindi-based language.
Gond art is hand-drawn, cyclical, curved and has a beautiful symmetry. This is probably due, in part, to the tribe’s innate knowledge of astronomy. Incidentally, Ajanbahu Jatbasha, the founder of the old Gond dynasty, is thought to be a contemporary of Akbar, and is said to have met him in court.
As the jugalbandi continued, dusk arrived in beautiful gold. The air-conditioning in the compartment made it possible to appreciate the sunset without the sweat.
It was time to get off at Shenoy Nagar. Everyone was asked to deboard, with the promise of another reading at the station. I, for one, was glad the poetry and art continued, even though the journey had come to an end.
Poetry with Prakriti is a two-week long festival of poetry held annually in Chennai to coincide with the famed Chennai music season. The festival brings together eminent and emerging poets, featuring readings to small, intimate audiences. These readings take place at several venues in the city.
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