You are on page 1of 3

Interrogating Identity, Ideology and Aesthetics:

A Profile of Gujarati Dalit Poetry


Dr K M Sherrif
Reader, Dept. of English
University of Calicut

Dalit writing emerged in Gujarati at the end of the Seventies of the last century. As in
Marathi, poetry was the predominant genre. Although Gujarati Dalit poetry, like its Marathi
counterpart, began as an expression of Dalit anger and protest, it soon created a distinct aesthetics
for itself. As it latched on to the emerging subaltern view of the Dalit movement, it unfolded itself
as a ruthless interrogation of traditional themes, modes and styles of Gujarati poetry.
One of the most important achievements of Dalit poetry in Gujarati was the appropriation
of traditional poetic forms and modes. Thus, we find poets like Bipin Gohel and Kisan Sosa
experimenting with the ghazal and the najhm. In their hands these traditional poetic forms
underwent the same kind of transformation that the sonnet underwent in the hands of Shakespeare
and some of his compatriots in the Sixteenth century. The ghazal and najhm to Gujarati Dalit
poets are not vehicles for nostalgic reveries on lost love or lost childhood, but poetic forms which
can represent the hopes and frustrations, the agony and ecstasy of a poetic sensibility tuned in to
the struggles of oppressed humanity. Kisan Sosa’s ghazals like “doomo khasedi”(Dousing the
Fire)1 present a new kind of rhetoric and a new kind of imagery which traditional ghazals, with
the possible exception of a few by poets like Mirza Ghalib, ever attempted. It is also remarkable
that the ghazals and najhms of Gujarati Dalit poets often employ a diction close to spoken
Gujarati. Mangal Rathod’s “Jalsaghar” which refers to Satyajit Ray;s famous film of the same
name is a remorseless attack on the vestiges of feudal patronage to art and literature under the
Delhi Sultanate and their vassals. 2
Many Dalit poets like Yoseph Macwan, Mangal Rathod and Raju Solanki accepted and
innovated upon the craft of Modernism, while rejecting its world view. Yoseph Macwan’s poem
“Sandarbh vinaano ” (A Man of No Consequence) 3looks every bit the conventional expression
of the existential angst of the alienated man, except that the alienated man in this case is a Dalit
poet. The comparison in Raju Solanki’s poem ”Navnirman-na yuvan shaheedone” 4of the
bourgeoning slums on the banks of the Sabarmati in Ahmedabad to the every-growing pot-belly
of the Shethiya sitting in his sari store is technically a metaphysical conceit, quite in line with
Eliot’s famous ‘etherised evening’ image.
Gujarati Dalit poetry has drawn sustenance extensively from Gujarati folk poetic forms.
Phatana, the ribald songs sung during weddings and songs in the elegiac mode called marseeya
have been particularly influential. Shanker Painter’s poetry carries both the music and the power
of folk poetry. Others like Yashwant Vaghela, Raju Solanki and Kisan Sosa have used the
rhythms and tunes of folk songs effectively. There is also a tendency to parody folk songs and
hymns. Neerav Patel’s poem “Maro Shamlyo” (My Dark-skinned Lord) 5 which turns a legend
about Krishna’s beneficence to Narsingh Mehta, the medieval Gujarati Bhakthi poet on its head is
illustrative.
Although shades of identity politics appears in fiction and in memoirs, it is largely absent
in poetry. There are no pictures of idyllic Dalit life in Gujarati Dalit poetry. Identity politics may
not be a bad idea. But as Marx famously remarked about the Nineteenth Century German Poet
Heine’s use of the folk songs of Silesian weavers, the Dalit movement ought, perhaps, to find its
poetry, not in the past, but in the future. For many Dalit poets the past was a long nightmare
stretching from Mohan jo Daro to the manholes of Mumbai’s sewage lines, from which they had
to wake up. Yashwant Vaghela’s long poem “Hoon bhar rat” (I, Bearer of Burdens) playing on
the word “Bharat” (bhar-rath – bearer of burdens) compresses the horror of Dalit history into a
collage.6 In “Bhoonsata Manasne Ghoontoon Choon” (To the Fading Man I Sing) Bipin Gohel
sings for Dalits who have “all but faded away from the walls of time”, whom “Manu’s monstrous
brushes/ Have tried to stamp out for centuries.” 7 Mangal Rathod’s panegyric to Ambedkar, “He
Babasaheb” (O, Babasaheb)8 touches on the epoch-making event in the history of Dalits, the
Mahad agitation of 1927 in which a group of Dalits led by Ambedkar burnt copies of Manusmriti
and drank water from the Chavdar lake which was forbidden to Dalits.
Of course, there have been occasional attempts to counterpoise mainstream Hindutva
icons with Dalit folk-heroes like Elkalavya and Shambuka and to claim the heritage of pre-Aryan
civilizations. Kisan Sosa’s “Jhaadpar”9 presents the surrealistic vision of an aged tree that
sprouts Ekalavya’s thumb and Shambuka’s head.Yashwant Vaghela in “Hoon bhar rath” calls
Mohan jo daro “the mound of our dead” and Harappa “the city of our haar (defeat).”
Traditional post-colonial thinking which works on the colonizer-colonised binary has
been effectively deconstructed in Gujarati Dalit poetry. Pravin Gadhvi’s poem “Nadirshah Avya
Tyare” (When Nadirshah Came) 10 points to the long, slimy history of Savarna collaboration with
colonialism. The invader is welcomed with open arms by the nobility: Aap aa deshmanj rokai
jav/hava bahoth achi chalthi hai/mujhre ache hothe hai is desh mein/bahuj samridh ane sunvali
murgi jevan che aa desh/ahin tho je avya te rokai gaya (Your majesty, please settle down in this
country/A cool breeze wafts across this land/And its mujhra is enchanting/This land is like lush,
fattened chicken/Whoever came here has stayed back). The irony of the postcolonial nationalist
rhetoric in the lines from the ghazal quoted at the end of the poem will not be missed by readers
who are aware of how empty nationalist rhetoric has always sounded to Dalits: gaaziyaanmein
boo rahegi jabthalak iman ki/thakhthe London tak chalegi theg Hindustan ki (Let the courage of
faith ignite the crusader’s heart/And the sword of Hindustan shall conquer London!).
In Raju Solanki’s poem “Maf karje dosth raghla” (Forgive Me My Honourable Friend) 11
the protagonist, a dher (scavenger) tells his Savarna friend that he cannot break into a dance with
the Shakuntal balanced on his head. The allusion is to the legend about the Nineteenth Century
German poet and philosopher Goethe breaking into an ecstatic dance after reading a German
translation of Kalidasa’s Abhijnana ShakunthalamI. There are probably few instances in India’s
literatures in which the Savarna elite’s collaboration with the colonial-orientalist project is so
squarely exposed.
Although many of the Dalit poets were born and brought up in far-flung villages in the
Gujarati countryside, there theatres of activity were cities like Ahmedabad, Vadodara (Baroda)
and Surat. There is a discernible Dalit presence among the working class in Ahmedabad. Like
American Black poetry, Gujarati Dalit poetry is largely an urban phenomenon. Bipin Gohel lived
most of his life in Mumbai. Kisan Sosa and Mangal Rathod are Surtis by adoption, while the
overwhelming majority of Dalit poets live in Ahmedabad. Neerav Patel’s poem “dr.bhaga manga
ms ane dr mhera mohan frcs”12 is a comic saga of two Dalit workers of the Ahmedabad
Municipal Corporation who clear clogged sewage lines like expert surgeons, but finally suffocate
to death in the urban netherworld, trapped in a sudden burst of noxious gases. Narsingh
Ujamba’s poetry has all the irreverence of urban protest poetry: Maanavtha/Aadarsh/
Prem/Dharm/Naamna Khali Khatara neeche/Mara kapayi gayela/ Shishn jevo komal
shabd/Chagdaaya kare (Humanism/Idealism/Love/Religion/Empty carts with such fancy
names/Crush a beautiful word like my penis). 13
Events have overtaken the Dalit movement and Dalit writing in Gujarat. Communal
violence during the last decade has cast a dark shadow over them. Fiercely subversive Dalit poets
have been largely silenced. There is no light at the end of the tunnel – at least for now. Dalit
poets have the unenviable task of both retrieving and reinventing their poetry ahead of them.
1
Kisan Sosa. “Doomo Khasedi”, Anauras Soorya. Ahmedabad: Khet Vikas Parishad, 1991. P. 10.
2
Mangal Rathod. “Jalsaghar”, Ekalavyas with Thumbs:Selections from Gujarati Dalit Literature. Trans. & Ed. by K M Sherrif.
Ahmedabad: Pushpam, 1999. PP.27-28.
3
Yoseph Macwan. “Sandarbh vinano.” Dalit Kavitha (Ed. Ganpath Parmar & Manishi Jani). Ahmedabad: Gujarat Lokayan, 1981. P.
112.
4
Raju Solanki. “Navnirmanne yuvan shahidone.” Mashal. Ahmedabad: Jati Nirmulan Sankalan Samiti, 1987. PP. 11-12.
5
Neerav Patel. “Maro Shamlyo.” Dalit Kavitha (Ed. Ganpath Parmar & Manishi Jani). Ahmedabad: Gujarat Lokayan, 1981. P.53.
6
Yashwant Vaghela. “Hoon bhar rath. Ame Andhare Ughela padchaya. Ahmedabad: Dalit Panther Gujarat Prakashan, 1991. PP. 58-64
7
Bipin Gohel. “To the Fading Man I Sing”. Ekalavyas with Thumbs:Selections from Gujarati Dalit Literature. Trans. & Ed. by K M
Sherrif. Ahmedabad: Pushpam, 1999. P.14
8
Mangal Rathod. “O, Babasaheb” Ekalavyas with Thumbs:Selections from Gujarati Dalit Literature. Trans. & Ed. by K M Sherrif.
Ahmedabad: Pushpam, 1999. PP.23-24.
9
Kisan Sosa. “Jhad par.” Dalit Kavitha (Ed. Ganpath Parmar & Manishi Jani). Ahmedabad: Gujarat Lokayan, 1981. P.10.
10
Pravin Gadhvi. “Nadirshah avya tyare.” Dalit Kavitha (Ed. Ganpath Parmar & Manishi Jani). Ahmedabad: Gujarat Lokayan, 1981.
PP.60-61.
11
Raju Solanki. “Maf Karje Dosth Raghla.” Mashal. Ahmedabad: Jati Nirmulan Sankalan Samiti, 1987. P. 9.
12
Neerav Patel. “ dr. bhaga manga ms ane dr mhera mohan frcs.” Dalit Kavitha (Ed. Ganpath Parmar & Manishi Jani). Ahmedabad:
Gujarat Lokayan, 1981. PP.47-49.
13
Narsingh Ujamba. ”Shabd.” Dalit Kavitha (Ed. Ganpath Parmar & Manishi Jani). Ahmedabad: Gujarat Lokayan, 1981. P.34.

You might also like