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Waves-An Appraisal
Prof. S.N. Wakhloo
Majboor's Waves, printed and published in a delightful get-up,
is the English translation of some of his Kashmiri poems culled from his various
colourful poetical gardens. The poet has titled this thin volume Waves.
Undoubtedly, his mind is a perennial river in which there is ebb and flow of
the waves of deep thoughts and intense feelings. Hence these poems are such
waves. This work is a cocktail of the reflections and observations expressed in
beautiful words.
It is disadvantageous to attempt a critical estimate of the
translated poems when the poems in original Kashmiri language are not
incorporated along with the translations. But the translator Arvind Gigoo has
done a commendable job as his translated poems keep in place on their own
independent strength without losing the realistic flavour of the poet's original
utterances. The poems in the English translation are of high order of merit. The
drawings of Vijay Zutshi are done artistically, and fittingly illustrate the
purport of the poems they are supposed to do.
Majboor created and followed the bent of his own nature and
turned to no one for a mentor or model. He is a self fashioned man, but poetry
cannot sprout on a dry sandy track; it must have the oasis of inspiration and
influences. As is obvious, Majboor spent his lifetime in the paradisiacal
environment of nature, and "impulse from the vernal wood" has
implanted aesthetic sensibility in his mind. Besides, the poems reveal that his
soul has been drawing stimulation from the springs of his elementary
experiences. Although his inspiration is set free from the literary
reminiscences, and sought his own individual; path but having studied the vast
Kashmiri and Hindi poetic literature, it is psychologically impossible not to
dray. out some elixir from the fountainhead of the old Muse. All this hay
enabled him to strike fine chords of our turbulent times.
Majboor is a poet and he does not set his aim for the search
of ideas, which he regards as the proper end of a philosopher, but he has
allowed the emotion of an intelligence which does not refuse itself the human
privilege of feeling to come out in half tones through his work. This is
illustrated in his poem Snowman. This poem shows that his
aspiration to reality is more courageous, bold and violent.
The inner world is no less a reality to Majboor, and so his
psychological curiosity gives itself scope in deep ruminations which tantamount
to auto-psycho-analysis. This has given originality to his poems
like a modern poet. The very first poem Portrait of a Child, in
which much is unsaid, reveals how in retrospection he feels that his childhood
had a purity of soul which got defiled as he grew up. In some poems like The
New Millennium and To The Swan he has an epic imagination
which spent itself in an allegorical evocation.
Majboor warmly espoused the cause of the poor and bitterly
denounced the wealthy drones that abound in society . He is troubled by the
present moral disquietitude and degradation. He finds how selfishness turns man
into a wolf. The Topsy-turvy Tree shows Majboor's graphic
power in which he mirrors the restlessness and pensiveness due to the topsy-turvydom
of ethical values. The vultures have destroyed the culture, and the prestige of
ancient sages has vanished.
Majboor is not a revolutionary or a progressive in the sense
in which fiery souls like Rehman Rahi, Firaq and even Nadim are. But the
poignancy of his suffering leads him to humanism. The poem The Hungry Man
shows his mood of disgust against the existing order of facts and society .
Social consciousness is his forte. Some of his poems are replete with
symbolism and the mention of Stone in the poem is a symbol of stone-hard
life of a poor man.
Yet it is for his ethical force that Majboor would best be
remembered. This feeling at the bottom of his consciousness is incontrovertible
enough. As a catalyst to this there is the intellectual cynicism. He clear
sighted realism is mixed with irony and satire. There is pathos to be found in
his poems. In the Hungry Man we can read the mystery of fate, with
which the poor man consoles himself. All the same the mood of his thought is
pessimistic.
Style is the man. Majboor is lucid, cryptic and skilful. His
social interpretation has shaped itself an adequate instrument of sweet language
and a free verse voluntarily shorn of all regular measure.
But all said and done, these poems demand from the reader an
intense effort of mental synthesis and understanding which in the present day
life is a great strain on the reader. The intellectual cynicism and gloom is
needlessly intensified. In conclusion it may be said that Majboor's peculiar
power of sensitive sympathy creeps into the reader's heart and nestles there.
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