Should we encourage an English Literary Association?

This afternoon, I attended a gathering of poetry lovers at Salsa Royale organized by the well-known Dhivehi poet, Jadulla Jameel and his associates in the civil society. I arrived a little bit late because it took a lot longer than I realized to fully charge the battery of my video camera. The organizers and the participants had opted not to invite the media or the press formally, so I undertook to make a record of the event.

Jadulla is widely known in the Maldives. He is a poet in his own right and a fearless defender of free expression. He also hails from a very well known family, both for their literary achievements and political clout.

When I arrived, Jadulla was introducing the event. I was pleased to see that the event was well attended, especially by a lot of young people. Jessica from the Open Society Association was already there. I also noticed that Hon. Mujuthaba, former Minister of Trade and Chairperson of the Human Rights Commission, was also there.

Many of the younger faces were new to me. Some were people I had met before. But all seemed very eager and looked very happy to be there. Utopian Culture had a good presence.
Shihab read a poem, I think written by Jadulla. A topical poem that voiced some of the angst that fills the streets of Male’.

Jadulla himself read a poem, written by a young girl, a Thalassaemia patient. She had the wisdom of the sages and the flair of a poet. I had heard the poem before, and had found that a very moving poem. Jadulla’s reading of it carried the emotive undertones of the lines well.

Jadulla was followed by Mujuthaba, who read one of his own poems, a poem that he said he had written on 8 April 2006. It was a very topical poem, with sharp angles on the current political ferment, a real soul –searching poem by one of the key players in the current reform process.

Next, a young girl, I think she said her name was Kulshum, came up and read a poem that she had written. It spoke directly to the primary concerns of her generation, but also had broader interest. It was a poignant expression of the issues that exercise the conscience and the minds of all civic-minded people in the country. The elegance of her expression was matched by the fluency of her delivery, and conveyed the incisiveness of the poet’s mind. She should keep on writing—her meter, rhythm, diction and imagery all fused into mesmerizing poetry, written with uncommon flair.

Edith Piaf also made her entry to the event, via a disc recording. Not only was a song sung by her, but the song was turned into skit, with the words being read by Shazra, who had studied in France, and acted by Andhu. I don’t understand a word of French, but I love the singing of Edith Piaf and Charles Aznavour. I got to Aznavour not through French sources, but from Bob Dylan, who sang an Aznavour song at a concert of Dylan’s that I attended years ago at the Madison Square Garden. It was Aznavour who sang that one should “get up and leave without a word when love is no longer being served!”

I was pleased to find out that the gathering included a few students who were studying English literature. They clearly had enough passion for their subject to spend the afternoon at the poetry recital. I had a chance to talk to them and were very impressed by their interest in literature and their mature approach to the works that they were reading—Othello, Emma, Pride and Prejudice, Street Car Named Desire, etc. I was dismayed to learn that only 5 students were enrolled in the literature class! Twenty-seven years ago, I ploughed through Othello, Emma and so on, again with only 4 colleagues! A country that ignores history and literature cannot have a bright future! No wonder our young minds are falling prey to narrow-minded ideas!

I had gone to the event without any poems. But Nishwan, a young man taking an year off from his studies in London, came up there and recited a poem he said he had found that day, “Crook with the Crown”. He said he had looked through his own anthology of poetry and found that his poetry was all about Cupid, and so he had to get another poem with political overtones. He was kind enough not toe expose the author of that poem.

I felt obliged to own up to having written that, in August 2001. I had no idea what the date was because most of my poetry are written between 11:00 pm and 1:00 am or on an airplane with no sense of time, or in a hospital bed when I lose count of time. But Jessica had to hand a couple of my poems which I had passed on to her for comment earlier that day. I had left over 60 pages of poetry in the President’s Office which I forget to remove before I bolted out the door and haven’t been able to recover them yet.

I thought I would read a poem—Present Tense at the Museum, which I had written in August 2001. I must have been in a hospital or something, to have had time to write so many poems in August 2001!

I don’t know what the audience made of my poem. But it was about the political dystopia that I saw around me, in 2001. It was some ways a dated poem, because I referred to an “unchanging caste”. But I was expressing my disgust over the complacency with which the establishment was gloating about the achievements of the past and I was warning them that “the future will rebel at the past”! A museum displayed those who had enjoyed all sorts of perks in the past: “rows and rows of silent dignity, pointing to yesterday’s opportunity”.

At the break, with music from a couple guys from the band 1984, some of the brightest young people I met in a long time, Ibu, Affan and Nashia, took issue with my time in government. We had an engaging dialogue on the role and impact of New Maldives in government, but Jadulla reminded us that poetry should take precedence over politics. I thought the discussion had more to do with philosophy than politics, but either way, poetry had to rule.

It was a wrench to walk away from the trio – and I look forward to a chance to talk to them again. These are the people whose voices must be heard by the powers that be. I hope that the country doesn’t lose people like them, and indeed discovers more of them.

Which brings me to my original point: why not set up an English Literary Club? To be fair, the idea belongs to Mujuthaba, but it is one that I heartily endorse. Life imitates art as art imitates life. Reading a good book is like living a lifetime. It can open-up minds and widen horizons.

Discussions among literati can be very enlightening, and certainly contribute to a vibrant culture.