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Offbeat: The rare talk…

'You don't talk to me when you talk to my poetry, because my poetry is mostly me, but you are often the one I talk to.' These are the words of the famous Marathi poet Kusumagraja… the poet speaks for all. And yet shows the technique of getting into poetry. Poetry is born from the same words and phrases that we have from birth. Yet the poet uses his own language. Look at a line from Grace… 'Mother used to distribute summer to all the children in the house.' The talk of sharing the summer and the mother's relaxation are both revealed by Grace's pen keeping grace. Mangesh Padgaonkar's lines come to mind when the body feels like a wall and love becomes a thing. 'Embrace rusts. of a night of habit.' Relationships are centuries old and rotting in the leisure of habit. The poet combines the language of the conversation with his own language. In that language, the poet and the society unfold together. How the story of ages unfolds in a moment. Vinda Karandikar says… 'What does a fist in the thoracic skeleton do on a rise like a cat's eye that has no ability to cry.' Are you able to cry naturally? 'Maryz' is a share of sir. 'Restraint was useless over crying 'Mrize' nothing happened when we cried.' 'Crying' is also a language. Poetry rises with turning points of emotion. That is why it contains the entire creation even though it is a matter of a single person. Amrita Pritam says. 'Tragedy is when you write your whole life letter to your loved one, and then you lose your loved one's name, address.' Also, when that name and address become a poem, language dissolves completely and stands at the door of silence. Ashok Vajpayee's poem also rips open the paper by hitting the letter… 'No one goes A prayer to the infinite is only a window That opens a few times and closes again on an impossibly invisible road.' That poem in the form of fixed speed! It doesn't have to be all face to face! Even if there is nothing left to say – it may not happen. Can not be! Mark Strand's lines are… 'Ink runs from the corners of my mouth and nobody's happy like me. I keep eating poetry.' Poetry is to live. A poet has to love. In its joy and outrage, the denominator of life's ugliness flies. May creation never be complete in its cosheta! Rajendra Shah says… 'Let us stake everything we have, win or lose, we will be with each other.' The joy of life, every feeling of life, which has given birth to society by removing its edge from its neutrality, is the creator. On the beats, the name of a bird is not given, the gecko that unfolds in the lips… as if everything is not visible, the one who sees me, mehenk mehenk… -Ramesh Parekh

Image Credit: (Divya-Bhaskar): Images/graphics belong to (Divya-Bhaskar).

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