Did you see the Geminid meteor showers happened a while ago?

Did you see the Geminid meteor showers happened a while ago?   

This meteor shower occurs every year as the Earth passes through debris left from the asteroid while orbiting the sun. As soon as the debris from the asteroids comes in contact with the Earth’s atmosphere, they cause a flare and produce arcs of bright light across the sky. In case you missed them this time, do not worry. These showers are most likely to occur every year during December the same time when the planet passes through a trail of debris left behind by the asteroid 3200 Phaethon. Okay, okay! Enough of the scientific jargon.

This mail isn’t about astronomy, but writing, specifically writing poetry with stars and the moon in them. Stars and moon have been among the most common elements to hog limelight (or should I say starlight?) in the poetic imagination. Their sight inspires awe, and poetry is perhaps the only medium to do justice to how they make you feel. Being accessible to everyone alike, these bright objects in the sky have taken the center stage in the creative expression across languages. From English rhymes, ghazals in Urdu to haikus in Japanese to songs in Hindi, Tamil, Telugu & others. Stars and the moon are the most redundant, most clichéd occurrence when it comes to talking about love. The world of poetry right now is stinking with young poets crediting the moon and stars as their muse, objects of desire, as a metaphor for their beloved. Consider this popular Bollywood song: Chand si mehbooba ho meri (I wish for a beloved like the moon). There’s nothing spectacular about it. Not even the countless poets writing about scars on moon’s face. It’s done and dusted. Come up with something new, please.

Basho, Japanese haiku and Zen master, once remarked: ‘A poet’s job is not to look at the object, but as the object.’ Younger poets have tried interpreting our lives from the point of view of the stars and the moon. Consider this by a fellow YQ writer:

Moon looks for itself

in my eyes.

Finds itself submerged in water.

Life, maybe.

The above angle to talk about the moon is relatively fresh, perfectly in line with Basho’s saying, but as a poem, it is quite forgettable. It tickles you, because of the intelligent use of imagination, but doesn’t provide any food for thought. You’re like: oh, what does it mean? Umm, I got it, yay & whoop, it’s over. You get it & move on. Never thinking about the poem again. As a poem, it impresses rather than provokes, and hence, it fails. A good poem is one that makes you stop when you’re on the move; that makes you sit up when you’re lying down. A good poem is unsettling. It evokes a memory within you that was asleep all the while. It is unforgettable. Allow me to demonstrate by quoting the maestro, the inimitable Gulzar saheb.

Maa ne eik chaand si dulhan ki duaayein di thi

aaj ki raat jo phutapaath se dekhaa maine
raat bhar rotii najar aayaa hai vo chaand mujhe

Mother had wished for a wife like the moon for me.

Tonight, I saw it from the footpath.

Entire night, it looked like a roti to me.

The above poem unsettles you, for it’s not just a moving story of some destitute but a social commentary. It highlights very subtly how poetry is a luxury that cannot be afforded by those that are hungry. The muse of stars and the moon end up looking like food for the famished ones. How battles between art and hunger is won by hunger. It seeps deep within you, reminding you — rather haunting you — of your privilege as a writer. A feeling that doesn’t go away easily.

Structurally, a poem doesn’t need a beginning, middle and an end like a story. A poem could be everything at once, and nothing at all. It could end at the beginning itself, or it could be the middle, complete by itself. A poem can be about just one emotion. A happy emotion, a sad emotion. Or no emotion. Poetry is about capturing that part of life that’s elusive, that’s not out there, in words that do justice. It’s not about what’s observable. Of course, the stars shine and the moon has scars and the sky is blue and my skin is brown. For a poet, the moon and the stars could mean something else. Something under the surface, something so small and subtle that it paints a bigger picture. It was food for Gulzar. It could be something else for you. Today, write a poem on the moon and the stars in a way that is not the usual. Use #NewMoon as the caption on YourQuote.

Tomorrow I leave Varanasi for a new city. It’s been a fulfilling stint. The new city, I hope to reveal in tomorrow’s email. Before I pack my books and notes, allow me to quote the gifted poet Manjul Bajaj’s take on what a good poem essentially is. She writes, ‘It isn’t a poem, not a poem at all, if it doesn’t make a little bit of life or sex happen in your head.’