ROOMS

 

Emotions that emanate from deep within a person, articulated as intertwined, well arranged, structured word to word combinations, dynamic and vibrant in their content and emotive aspect forms the essence of good poetry. Emotions from deep within are often reflective of the rich, varied and vast experience of a person, acquired over a period of time and from personal involvement in some form or other. The poems of Boutha Ayyanaar are without doubt, from deep within his heart and hence on reading are able to instantaneously resonate with his fellow humans placed in near identical situations. Mansion Kavidhagal, first published in 2005 bears excellent testimony to Ayyanaar’s sensitivity to contemporary realities, expressed at times in veiled biting sarcasm.   

 

 ‘The moment I stepped inside the city

  the first thing that came into view

  were the horns of men.’

                                                           (Horns p.16)

Living in the prison like rooms of the Mansion, loneliness, slowly and steadily eats into his very being and like most others placed in his position would, the poet tends to be philosophical.

 

              ‘Not knowing which face you like

               and which one I like,

               yet, we keep living

               in love. Don’t we?’

                                                                        (Love p.21)

The poet tries to find new dimensions to love – especially as he is burning and melting under the pangs of separation. The poet, without doubt, is in deep love with his past, his village, the village life, his home, his wife and pines to be back. The city really is not in his heart, though as he confesses elsewhere, he has nothing against it.

             

                ‘Chased by memories

                 pained by the sorrow of migration

                 The heart covers its face

                 in anguish untold.’  

                                                                          (Please Let Go My Hands p.23)

See the exactness of his analysis of the characteristics of the city.

 

                ‘In the solitary room

                 the fan

                 scatters fear

                 everywhere.’  

                                           (The Entire City Is Reeling Under The Grip of Fear p.24) 

The city and the mansion of course do not recognize nor do get familiar with any particular face. In the dingy room of the mansion the poet is alone, except for the room as his companion in spite of the fact that he is in the very centre of the crowded city.

 

                ‘The room and myself

                 keep waiting

                 for a familiar face.’

                                           (The Entire City Is Reeling Under The Grip of Fear p.26)

 

No, that is not totally true –he does have other companions to converse with. Look at his companions with who he converses – the tube-light, the fan, the pillow, the door, the worn-out mirror, dirty clothes. He comforts himself in the fact that his room is a sincere trust worthy friend, with who he can confidently share his secrets.

 

                  ‘We share so many a secret

                   My room which has never told nothing to none

                   is definitely better than my friend.’

                                                                                          (You and I p.30)

The room is definitely better than the friends who betray.

 

The poet also has a definite sense of humour which surfaces occasionally, may be even without any conscious effort from him.

 

                   ‘Even my daughter who is

                     just three years old

                     calls me “Mottai’

                     When asked to show respect

                     she says ‘Mottai Sir’.

                                                                                       (Appearance p.71)

 

As I jot down these lines purported to be a critical appreciation of Ayyanaar’s poems, I should confess that I am doing so without accessing and reading his original work in Tamil. No doubt that every language has its distinct unique beauty and it is rather difficult to have the beauty one transfixed into another in its totality –especially so from such a rich and vibrant language that Tamil is. As such I can only presume that the original will be much more powerful in its semantic and emotive content and reflective of the poet’s rich Tamil cultural mooring.

 

A word about the rendering in English is considered not out of place. Latha Ramakrishnan has more than 25 books translated and published and all are well received and appreciated by the readers. She has done full justice in this instance also. However let us not forget that an expression which is exquisitely pleasing in one language when translated into another may lose its charm. This is all the more so, as the translator herself has stated, ‘in the case of Neo-Tamil poems when the poems are rich and complex with the element of obscurity and multiple meaning’. Having said this, I cannot but observe that her attempt to be as sincere as possible to the original text, at times seems to force her to sacrifice the beauty and expressive exactitude unique to English language. I only wish that a well established translator of the caliber of Latha Ramakrishnan could take a little more liberty to deviate where found necessary and without having to jar the beauty of English.

 

Prabanjan’s forward is very good and brings forth the essence of Ayyanaar’s poems with all the force and vigour that it deserves.

 

Ayyanaar’s ‘Rooms’ is excellent reading material and is a fine example of neo-Tamil poetry of the 1990s, rich in imagery, vibrant with raw life experience at its best.

 

                                                                                                      P.K.N.Panicker. 

ROOMS  by Boutha Ayyanar, Translated by Latha Ramakrishnan, Published by Meenal Publishing House, 3/363, Bajana Kovil Street, Chennai -603103. Published in Chennai Chronicle, Vol.1, issue 2, May 2010