The Mumbai poet, Deepankar Khiwani, died on March 28. He shared some of his new poems with me a fortnight ago, in which he wrote of art as “a dark condemned space with the door unlocked”. I shall revisit those finely-wrought last poems, reminding myself that for all the darkness and incarceration around us, somewhere there is an “unlocked” door.
When the disquiet begins, there are a few books I’d recommend keeping within arm’s length: The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche, for one. Also that extraordinary Bloodaxe trilogy – Staying Alive, Being Alive, Being Human – which offers a poem for every minute fluctuation in inner weather.
Right now, it’s the Salvatore Quasimodo poem that’s replaying in my head:
Everyone stands alone at the heart of the world
pierced by a ray of sunlight
and suddenly it’s evening
My discovery this week is I Saw Myself on the 18th-century Sufi poet, Shah Abdul Latif, by Shabnam Virmani and Vipul Rikhi. There is a temptation when presenting sacred literature to a lay readership to offer a single interpretation, reducing all metaphor to allegory. But not here. This book is a shifting weave of lyric and reflection. No pontifical explanations, no self-conscious sociology. Instead, this is an unhurried meditation that circles a poetry of hints and textures. It allows the reader to marinate in song, infused with ancient folklore, under the stars of a Kutch desert.
“Your body is the mosque/ your heart the inner chamber/ for contemplation…/ Know yourself/ from inside out” – Latif’s lines seem to become a possible way to navigate our path through very singular times. And ironically, maybe an upside-down moment in human history is just what some of us need to explore that long-deferred inside-outness?
Arundhathi Subramaniam’s latest collection is titled Love Without a Story.
Read other articles in The Art of Solitude series here
Buy an annual Scroll Membership to support independent journalism and get special benefits.
Our journalism is for everyone. But you can get special privileges by buying an annual Scroll Membership. Sign up today!