A Tribute to Kamala Suraiyya

Kamala Das Suraiyya: My strength is my honesty

“Where ever I go, it becomes my home”, Kamala Das Suraiyya, the world renowned-poetess and writer had said in an interview in 2004. The cemetery of Palayam’s Jama Masjid – where she is scheduled to be buried at 8 am today with State honours – will be her new “home” now. She breathed her last in Pune’s Jehangir hospital early on Sunday morning.

Kamala Suraiyya was born in Palghat, Kerala in 1934. She was a woman of integrity and honesty, who had a penchant for writing. She would write for hours after finishing household chores.

“There was only the kitchen table where I would cut vegetables, and after all the plates and things were cleared, I would sit there and start typing,”

she is reported to have said.

Her conversion to Islam in 1999 opened Pandora’s Box. She earned lot of enemies and had to bear criticism. She was bitterly criticised even in literary circles. She remained steadfast in her new-found Faith and retorted back,

“No one came home when I was a Hindu. Islam brought me friends and love. Several poor women and children come to me, they love me and I reciprocate their affections.”

In 2002, a documentary called Malayalathinde Madhavikutty was made on Kamala Suraiyya but fundamentalists threatened the producer and theatre owners of dire consequences if they release the documentary.

Some of her poems generated controversy but Suraiyya stood firm. In one of her poems she wrote,

“If love is a flower, lust is its fragrance. Without love, where is lust and without lust, can life be created?”

When asked about her “controversial” writings, she once said,

“My strength is my honesty. I tell it like it is, I don’t pretend to be saintly. Perhaps that’s why my house gets filled with so many young people. They feel I am speaking the truth because I never hide anything.”

In 2004, responding to her detractors, she said,

“They want me to go to a place of worship and wait for death to arrive. But I’m not ready for death so early. I’m not tired of life. I may have done a lot, but there’s so much left to do. It worries people that I am not frustrated.”

Kamala Suraiyya knew Arabic as well as Urdu. She wrote a prayer book in Arabic in 2002 which was released in Qatar.

“This is the first Arabic prayer book written by a woman.”

She had said then. She learned Urdu because it suited her poetry. “I even learned Urdu, which I think suits my poetry well”, she has said.

Kamala Suraiyya has been the Poetry editor of the Illustrated Weekly of India and editor of Poet magazine. She won many awards including Kent Award for Asian English writing, Vayalar Award for literature. Not many would know that she was nominated for the Nobel Prize for literature in 1984. In 2002, Kerala government conferred Kamala Suraiyya with Ezhuthachan Award recognizing her outstanding contributions to the language and literary world. A Canadian movie company made a film on her. It was about Kamala Suraiyya, the writer, the poetess and her experiences with Islam. Every time renowned linguist and intellectual Noam Chomsky visited India, he made a point to meet Kamala Suraiyya.

Suraiyya was a poet with a philanthropic heart. She ran a charity trust called Lok Seva. She was also patron of Raksha School for children with multiple disorders. As a staunch supporter of purdah, she donned a black burqa.

Kamala Suriyya loved gold jewellery. She used to wear 18 smooth gold bangles on each arm.

“I am keeping them as my gifts to my grand-daughters!”

She once joked.

As a patient of diabetic neuropathy and respiratory disorder, her eyesight almost failed after 2004 but yet she used to dictate poetry.

In the last five years, Suraiyya changed a lot. From a fighter woman, she became a woman of affection. She has said that the only climate she can live in was that of an ocean of friendship and affection.

“If I see someone approaching my house and see criticism and mockery in the tension of their jaw, I refuse to let them in. Time is so rare. I wouldn’t like to waste it on people who don’t love me.”

Ahmed Faraz: Death of a Romantic

Ahmed Faraz: Main jaa chuka phir bhi teri mehfilon mein hoon! I am not an obit writer; nor do I aspire to become one. August was a month of poetic obituaries; it was a month when angel of death plucked out longstanding poetic trees in two different countries: first it was Mahmoud Darwish of Palestine, and now Ahmed Faraz of Pakistan who died on August 25 at the age of 77. If Darwish penned the pain of Occupied Palestine, Faraz mourned a militarist Pakistan. Both voices signified the poetry of protest which is the last refuge of Muse. Surprisingly both bore an uncannily pictorial resemblance. The poetry of Darwish and Faraz reflected internal struggles within the Muslim world. Their sane and at times insane voices provided an alternative platform for love as well as lament. For Faraz, Gen. Mohammad Zia ul-Haq’s military rule was boon as well as bane. He was arrested and later had to leave Pakistan. It left him bitter but at the same time it gave him enough space to popularize ‘protest poetry’. As Faraz once said, “Yet it (military rule) also provided ample food for thought for the poet and made protest poetry so popular in Pakistan.” Faraz was a limited man but with unlimited ambition. Although Faraz was a wearer of many hats; his poetry can be summed up in two nouns each beginning with R: Romance and Revolution. Teenagers took comfort in his couplets while aspiring revolutionaries quoted him at length to drive their point. His ghazal Sunaa hai log use aankh bhar ke dekhte hain was an international hit. Faraz was not just a poet of romance and love; he was a poet of masses as well as mass hysteria – a syndrome which has consumed so much of Pakistan. His poetry gave voice to the suppressed souls of a depressed Pakistan. He spoke against the Partition as well: Ab kis kaa jashn manaate ho us des kaa jo taqsiim huaa Ab kis ke giit sunaate ho us tan-man kaa jo do-niim huaa (taqsiim=divided; do-niim=cut in two) He breathed life into the idea of romance in contemporary Urdu poetry. His romantic couplets may have sparked millions of romances all around the Urdu-knowing world but yet his writings failed to bring a revolution in his troubled homeland. Perhaps therein lies the irony of Ahmed Faraz. He was a crusading poet who did not believe in the idea of crusade. He preferred verse over weapon. He never shied away from raising the standard of revolt against the Pakistani establishment. He was an asset to Pakistan but Pakistan government treated him like a liability. He was a dissenting poet disenchanted by his own military government. It is primarily for this reason that he went into a self-imposed exile for six years. He told people of Pakistan to dream because he believed that dreams do not die. In his poem titled Khvaab marate nahiin (Dreams do not die), he said: Dreams are not hearts, nor eyes or breath Which shattered, will scatter (or) Die with the death of the body. Dreams do not die. Dreams are light, life, wind, Which can not be stopped by mountains black, Which do not burn in the hells of cruelty, Like light and life and wind, they Do not bow down even in graveyards. Dreams are letters, Dreams are illumination, Dreams are Socrates, Dreams are Mansur! Faraz was a poet of official dislike and unofficial like. Pakistan of Pervez Musharraf tried to woo him with the Hilal-i-Imtiaz in 2004. The trick did succeed initially. But the tricky success did not last. Faraz returned the award two years later because he was a man of conscience. He said, “My conscious will not forgive me if I remained a silent spectator of the sad happenings around us. The least I can do is to let the dictatorship know where it stands in the eyes of the concerned citizens whose fundamental rights have been usurped. I am doing this by returning the Hilal-e-Imtiaz (civil) forthwith and refuse to associate myself in any way with the regime...” Faraz had compared his life to that of a candle. Main bhi chup ho jaaunga bujhti hui shama’on ke saath… (Shama’on = candles). It will not be easy to forget Faraz. He will be remembered though he is not in our ‘mehfil’: To laut kar bhi ahle-tamanna ko kush nahi Main lut kar bhi wafa kay inhi kaaflon mein hoon Badla na mayray baad bhi mozon-e-guftagu Main jaa chuka phir bhi teri mehfilon mein hoon… We have lost Faraz forever. In his own words: Ab ke ham bichhde to shaayad kabhi khwaabon mein milen Jis tarah sukhe hue phool kitaaboN mein milen Those who know Urdu will understand the essence of the above verse because these lines will get derailed in English!