Every day more writers are returning their Sahitya Akademi awards and it appears to have goaded some “#InternetHindus” to take note and give us their learned views. Although only some among these writers are poets, a new hashtag began to trend on Twitter: #AkademiPoetry.
It is clear from these examples on Twitter that the intention is to satirise the writers who have returned their awards, and most especially the poets. The hashtag brings together those who want to poke fun at not only the poets but also, apparently, their poetry. If they’re returning awards, someone may as well prove that they didn’t deserve them in the first place.
Poetry has long had room for scathing, even vitriolic verse, and poets have exercised their art to skewer their enemies or to attack society’s hypocrisies or cruelties. Read satirical poetry to recognise anger coated with the sugar of wit and the spice of craft.
Read Namdeo Dhasal’s coruscating verse. Read Sukirtharani – in fact, read lots of Dalit poetry.
Real poetry that can be tweeted
If that falls on the bitter end of the satirical spectrum, read Kabir or Tuka. Or any bhakti poet, really – it’s not always about god. It’s just as often about the society from which these poets were excluded.
Anyone with a working sense of humour, some familiarity with poetry and a little skill can write parody or pointed satire. In Poetry with Young People (ed. Gieve Patel) and published, ironically enough, by the Sahitya Akademi, children have a pretty good idea about how to work a pithy line. In poems that could fit into a tweet.
Here’s Aanchal Bharati’s Teacher:
Or the closing lines of Anandi Rao’s poem, To a Noisy Neighbour:
And Abhinay B’s Epigram:
Real poetry is easy to spot
Most people don’t need a primer to figure out what is or is not poetry; they recognise it when they hear it. And the more they hear, the better they get at appreciating it. But I suspect the people writing for #AkademiPoetry wouldn’t recognise poetry if it came and hit them over the head with the complete works of Kalidasa. It is possible that they have some working definitions of what poetry is (and I beg they will not enlighten me) but not even the contributors to this thread could mistake their productions for it. Anger without wit or craft is just anger. Or, in this case, petulance.
So if it’s not poetry and it’s not even funny, why are we talking about it?
Because right now, we’re watching “#InternetHindus” using words ineffectively and it’s somewhat amusing. But we should be in interested in the kind and quality of their reading and their ability to write well, be articulate and engage with people.
It is my sincere hope that the rank and file of the right gets better at using words to express itself. Because the alternative – as we have seen recently – seems to be to use more material weapons. And that can only end badly.
Sridala Swami's second collection of poetry, Escape Artist, was published by Aleph Book Co. in 2014. She is an alumnus of the International Writing Program at the University of Iowa and blogs at The Spaniard in the Works.
We welcome your comments at
letters@scroll.in.
It is clear from these examples on Twitter that the intention is to satirise the writers who have returned their awards, and most especially the poets. The hashtag brings together those who want to poke fun at not only the poets but also, apparently, their poetry. If they’re returning awards, someone may as well prove that they didn’t deserve them in the first place.
Poetry has long had room for scathing, even vitriolic verse, and poets have exercised their art to skewer their enemies or to attack society’s hypocrisies or cruelties. Read satirical poetry to recognise anger coated with the sugar of wit and the spice of craft.
Read Namdeo Dhasal’s coruscating verse. Read Sukirtharani – in fact, read lots of Dalit poetry.
Real poetry that can be tweeted
If that falls on the bitter end of the satirical spectrum, read Kabir or Tuka. Or any bhakti poet, really – it’s not always about god. It’s just as often about the society from which these poets were excluded.
Anyone with a working sense of humour, some familiarity with poetry and a little skill can write parody or pointed satire. In Poetry with Young People (ed. Gieve Patel) and published, ironically enough, by the Sahitya Akademi, children have a pretty good idea about how to work a pithy line. In poems that could fit into a tweet.
Here’s Aanchal Bharati’s Teacher:
“I have a teacher
With serrated features.
She talks a lot; there’s hypocrisy
Even in her walk.”
Or the closing lines of Anandi Rao’s poem, To a Noisy Neighbour:
“Talking is your birthright;
But sleeping could be mine.”
And Abhinay B’s Epigram:
“Religion will always remain the opinion of the masses.”
Real poetry is easy to spot
Most people don’t need a primer to figure out what is or is not poetry; they recognise it when they hear it. And the more they hear, the better they get at appreciating it. But I suspect the people writing for #AkademiPoetry wouldn’t recognise poetry if it came and hit them over the head with the complete works of Kalidasa. It is possible that they have some working definitions of what poetry is (and I beg they will not enlighten me) but not even the contributors to this thread could mistake their productions for it. Anger without wit or craft is just anger. Or, in this case, petulance.
So if it’s not poetry and it’s not even funny, why are we talking about it?
Because right now, we’re watching “#InternetHindus” using words ineffectively and it’s somewhat amusing. But we should be in interested in the kind and quality of their reading and their ability to write well, be articulate and engage with people.
It is my sincere hope that the rank and file of the right gets better at using words to express itself. Because the alternative – as we have seen recently – seems to be to use more material weapons. And that can only end badly.
Sridala Swami's second collection of poetry, Escape Artist, was published by Aleph Book Co. in 2014. She is an alumnus of the International Writing Program at the University of Iowa and blogs at The Spaniard in the Works.
