Poetry isn’t born in a vacuum.
You don’t just sit one day and decide that you are going to come up with a masterpiece, because when you do, you don’t even come close.
Neither can you sit everyday, pen in hand, and expect to churn out (good) poetry.
You’ve got to go on with life instead; because life itself is the best stimulant.
And when you shall have inspiring moments in your life, you shall have your masterpiece.
It won’t matter then that you can’t write poetry.
Because poetry isn’t about words, it’s about thoughts.
Hardly anyone can claim the distinction of having expressed every thought thought of as thought of, every feeling felt as felt.
But we all do think and feel deeply.
And in those moments, no word-poetry matters; because in those moments poetry was in your thoughts.
And that shall remain the most magical poetry that you shall ever know.
I intended this post to be an article on the crises in Japan. I had already begun arranging my thoughts – details of the quake, the resulting Tsunami, the known extent of damage, the ongoing nuclear crisis, first person accounts and the like. ‘Nothing not already known’ I thought to myself. I didn’t want to write about apocalyptic predictions either. Preaching on man-going-against-nature-and-nature-taking-it’s-revenge wasn’t an option either (Everyone who’s anyone is getting all preachy on Japan!). So I gave up.
Last night I woke up to the realisation that the reason for not having written about the events in Japan was none of the above. I knew I’d have my own story to tell, perhaps I was waiting for it. Last night I found it – As I lay on my bed, I looked back on the last few days. From the moment my Dad had rushed home with the news right until then, Japan had dominated my thoughts. Everything was so surreal to me. An earthquake of that scale, the onslaught of the Tsunami and the looming nuclear crisis. I devoured newspaper articles on Japan, I couldn’t take my eyes off the TV imagery, I couldn’t get enough of the coverage, always wanting more. I couldn’t even understand people who didn’t talk earthquake-Tsunami-nuclear crisis (How could people be so unfeeling? I thought. It could have been here and it could have been them!) It was then that a little voice in my head asked – Do you feel so deeply because it could have been here and it could have been you? When I came up with my answer I was glad I hadn’t written the run-of-the-mill article with facts and analyses and comments. When I came up with my answer I knew that even an attempt at expressing my feelings would fall short because when I came up with my answer I knew that I felt what I did though it may never be here and it may never be me.
Dedicated to each and everyone affected by the quake and resulting Tsunami that hit Japan on the 11th of March 2011. Dedicated in particular to those 50 faceless and nameless workers who struggled on at the Fukushima-Daiichi nuclear power plant when the others evacuated and to those who, even as I write, risk their lives to make others’ safe.