In a detailed conversation, poet Madhu Raghavendra speaks about his literary journey, finding space for politics in his poetics, the inspiration of art and bhakti in his work, and more.

- Chittajit Mitra

Madhu Raghavendra’s poems are rooted deep into the culture that nurtured him, immersed with our shared experiences in the subcontinent. It’s a culture where diversity doesn’t just exist but is celebrated. In his last four books, Raghavendra has delved into various worldly issues and experiences, which have lent to a transformative journey for him as a poet as well as a human being.

Raghavendra published his latest collection of poems Seeking the Infinite earlier this year from Red River. Unlike his previous works, this collection transcends from the worldly to the divine, but not in a superficial way, and remains deeply connected with his realities. In these poems, mindfulness and spirituality is not a fleeting occurrence but the base itself which elevates its imagery and adds to the rich bhakti tradition.

In a detailed conversation, Madhu spoke to me about his literary journey, finding space for politics in his poetics, the inspiration of art and bhakti in his work, and more. Edited excerpts:

The Chakkar: How did concepts of bhakti find their way into your poems in Seeking the Infinite?

Raghavendra: In my previous books of poetry, some of my poems were kind of migrating towards self-reflection, the idea of how poetry has existed in the history of Hindu culture. I’m not a great fan of that academic bent of translation and putting things back in library. I’m very performative. I’m a people's artist—that’s what I would like to think of myself. I come from the space of as a child where I used to read out Bhaja Govinda or similar stuff out loud. And I am a Maharashtrian, who also goes back to the idea of Bhakti poetry in my own way.

So, it was a very self-reflecting sort of act in this book, where I wanted to look at a Monet painting, and go over the lotus feet Narayana as well, and not just water lilies of Monet. When I’m looking at Duchamp’s work and I’m thinking that the bicycle in his painting could also be the cycle of the universe—all of it seeped into my work. It seeped from all cross-sectional spaces of my childhood: being a lot of Vishnu Sahasranam, Lalita Sahasranam, Bhaja Govindam and all those. I was only allowed to play if I would go to these classes. In a very different sense, there was some community learning as well.

So, I think all these cross-sectional ideas seep into my work. I think my work started growing from socialistic to very self-reflective perspectives, and focuses on the indigenous work that I do with different communities.

I would say that I also wanted to personally look at spirituality, because I couldn’t make sense of how the world is going around. On one end, India is the fifth largest economy, but there’s this constant initiation of violence that goes on all around the country.

Sometimes, you just want to cocoon and sit back, and probably look at something, probably art collections and such sorts of things. I would like to be able to think of Shiva while I’m talking to you. It does not have to be a ‘blue guy,’ you know, typically sitting in a way. It could be the idea of a river, or a poem, or a name of somebody. Chittajit itself is such a beautiful name and so it could be anywhere.

It’s just trying to find beauty in the smaller things of life, because you’re not able to control the larger things of life. It could be a sense of escapism.

“I think Robert Rauschenberg said that the artist’s job is to be a witness to his time in history. And I think that has been the best way to do it. It has to be personal, because the personal is political, and the personal is social as well.”

The Chakkar: In the past you have written poems around various issues like the farmer’s movement, nature, etc. What compels you to choose and write about such issues?

Raghavendra: I think my life has been very anthropological. It’s mostly a personal lived experience, and that’s why I like the idea of how the sad realists responded to the Second World War, and how we ourselves have responded to social inequities when we look at Kabir. So, when I was with the farmers, or I am in the Northeast writing about the cultural nuances of the region, or the kind of ostracization that comes with being called a ‘chinky’ or something—all these personal lived experiences are the things brought me to those poems. It has never been from a very far sense, it has never been from a newspaper article or something like that. It has been very rooted.

I think Robert Rauschenberg—one of my favourite artists—said that the artist’s job is to be a witness to his time in history. And I think that has been the best way to do it. It has to be personal, because the personal is political, and the personal is social as well.

The Chakkar: This is your fifth book of poetry. How would you trace your journey from your first book to this one?

Raghavendra: Most of the time, I say that I don’t know who that person [who wrote the first book] is anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll cross paths with him. I think it’s also a sort of physical and mental state when you evolve. When you are in your late 20s, you want to experiment about writing about love and ending the book with Faiz. I find it astonishing when [the book] is kept in a lot of festivals and picked up by very young people. I realized that there was this person who is still speaking to young people, [but] that’s not me anymore. Even my publisher would say that young people still buy that book. It does feel beautifully weird, just thinking about that.

From love, you evolve being a ‘social bandana person’, and then slowly start seeing beyond the bodily grit and gore and think that it’s time to hold a breath and probably create something different. Some time ago, there were two youths who were killed from Guwahati by certain Karbi people, and suddenly people started branding the Karbi community as a murderer community. I went around with my friend Longvi Terang and we bought out a book of young Karbi people on love poems and nature poems and you respond differently. You learn to evolve, you learn to come back from the streets to your table and say that we are going to still respond in ways we think we want to do.

So, when I look back from my first book, I think there have been circular motions of love, from the physicality of love, to the sociality of love, to the spirituality of love, and to familial love in between.

The Chakkar: You were chosen for the International Writing Program Fellowship and the Charles Wallace Writing Fellowship. How would you say these fellowships paved the way for you to pursue your artistic endeavour?

Raghavendra: Well, when I was selected for the fellowship, I couldn’t believe it, because it kind of gives you a sense of being seen. And that is very rare for an artist, especially an Indian poet. You come across so many poets and writers who don’t have much opportunity for their work to be seen and heard, despite they being really good, and it kind of built a sense of gratitude. But more than that, it kind of made me believe that real writing still existed, which is not honed by a degree. I have a degree in public health; I don’t have a degree in literature.

Both the fellowships shaped my writing. It made me work harder towards what I believed my writing should be about, because at the end of the day, I don’t want to end up writing like any other poet in contemporary India, right? When somebody reads a poem of yours, you want them to feel that, ‘Oh! I think it’s a poem by Madhu.’ I kind of always thought that my writing should represent the oral tradition of India. So, yeah, bringing the oral narratives in a way like Kurt Waiter's small poems, which you can carry along with you most of the time, like a spine which you don’t feel, but you carry.

When I look at writing, I don’t think it should be complex and inaccessible, because most of the things in life are inaccessible, right? A good education, clean water, a decent living, respectable living, most of these things are very inaccessible to most of us. And so, I didn’t want art to be that space which is made inaccessible. I want my art to be of the people.

“More and more people should open themselves to the idea of the global poetry, Indian poetry, folk poetry, and the unknown self within which they can find themselves. People should consume all sorts of different things, and not just poetry, if one wants to be a poet.”

The Chakkar: Would you say that publishing poetry has become easier or more difficult these days especially with the well-known publishing houses?

Raghavendra: Self-publishing has definitely made it easier in poetry. But what is more important is that there are definitely good avenues for publishing good poetry. When you talk about contemporary Indian English poetry, there are spaces like Red River which is an avant-garde publishing house and it has really evolved as per the times. And then there are Copper Coin and other publishers who are in the space, and doing well.

I’m not sure if ‘traditional’ publishing is that much into poetry. They are usually into everything else, and that is from the trope that poetry doesn’t sell. But… if you don’t invest in something that’s not going to sell.

Poetry does sell. I think people buy poetry but the dearth of good poetry books sends a wrong message.

The Chakkar: Would you like to give any advice to budding poets on how to hone their skills? Any Dos and Don’ts?

Raghavendra: I would say, liberate poetry from the definition of poetry itself. We have this vast country with so many art forms, folk forms, and hence, there’s so much poetry just in our lives every day. The richness of listening to Bach, Bob Dylan, Bhimsen Joshi, and Bhauri Devi on the same day is a gift very unique to our country. More and more people should open themselves to the idea of the global poetry, Indian poetry, folk poetry, and the unknown self within which they can find themselves. People should consume all sorts of different things, and not just poetry, if one wants to be a poet.

***

Chittajit Mitra (he/him) is a queer translator, editor and writer from Allahabad. He has been working on issues of gender, sexuality and mental health with the team of Resistive Alliance for Queer Solidarity (RAQS) from the last five years in the city. A postgrad in anthropology, he is interested in constitutional ethics, social justice and human rights. He regularly reviews books on his Instagram: @cj_mitra. You can reach out to him on chittajit.mitra@gmail.com or Twitter: @cjmitra.

“Liberate poetry from the definition of poetry itself”: An Interview with Madhu Raghavendra

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