As a writer and editor and
sometimes book reviewer, I pick up some nuggets through casual conversations,
some word that flies in the air, or a work I suddenly stumble upon. I shall give you some instances to illustrate
what I am talking about.
In 2013, Sudeep Sen invited me
to review the Harper Collins Book of Poetry edited by him, and the review appeared
in Cha (http://www.asiancha.com/content/view/1424/394/). While reviewing the collection, I was
introduced to the work of several new poets, one of them, John Siddique, whose
poems really resonate with me. This is one of the unexpected throwbacks of
doing voluntary work; you gather your diamonds on the way. And later, I found in
John Siddique’s collection of poems titled ‘Full Blood’ which I bought, that he
actually has a very beautiful poem in there (among so many others) which is titled
‘Abha’. I posted this on my blog:
http://poetryilove-abhaiyengar.blogspot.in/2016/06/abha-by-john-siddique-in-his-collection.html!
I recently participated in
the Seemanchal International Literature Festival in Bihar where I met a young
Bengaluru writer, whose body is home to several tattoos. I admired a few and
she gave the reason or occasion that made her get them one by one. There was
one on her forearm, however, which she said she had got done ‘just chumma’.
“Just chumma?” I raised an eyebrow.
“You mean, for a chumma? A kiss?” for that is what chumma means in the general understanding
of the term.
She laughed. “No, chumma is a
Bengaluru word, meaning ‘just like that’.”
“Oh”, I grinned, “you mean
‘aiwein’, which is what is used in Delhi to denote the same thing?”
We began to laugh. But for
me, this was a delightful term which I would make a part of my arsenal. When I
say arsenal, I mean I would use it sometime somewhere in my writing or one of
my talks.
I was also introduced to some
poet hitherto unknown to me like Abdul Ahad Saaz, whose poem finds its mark in
me:
मैं बढ़ते बढ़ते किसी रोज तुझको छू लेता
कि गिन कर रख दिये तू ने मेरी मजाल के दिन
~ अब्दुल अहद साज़
which translated reads:
I would slowly move forward and touch you
some day
But you have counted out the days of my
impertinence
Another word making the rounds sometime
in Darjeeling post the festival was the word ‘itemgiri’. It was a Mumbai
phrase, and one I thought had to do with Bollywood item numbers (raunchy
songs), but it turned out that this phrase is for boys who hang around outside
college gates eyeing girls. So they do ’itemgiri’, and it is supposed to be an
inherently youth-centric pastime.
At a recent gathering at
Habitat Centre where the discussion was on women at the work place and how an environment
could be created there for their safety and wellbeing, a word that cropped up
was ‘mamitsu’, which is an Italian term that translates into ‘being soft inside’.
It was a term used in the discussion to ask for a certain degree of vulnerability
and understanding to occur in the workplace. This was another word that has
uniquely found its way into my arsenal of words and expressions.
And so this carries on, people
and places and the words they carry with them that add dimensions to my life. Words
and expressions fall upon you indirectly and get imbibed into your system for
further thought and action. Or you let them lie within you to just nourish you
on your journey as a writer.
*****
© Abha Iyengar, 12th
February 2017. First published in Different Truths.
