Poetry

Through The Poetic Lens

by Yogesh Patel

Exhuasted on the Cross Najwan Darwish hears sitar

The Instrument

What’s the name of that instrument Ravi Shankar plays?
What’s the name of that winged bull in the sky?
of a scattered resurrection?
What’s the name of the Buraq from whose back a prophet?
alighted in our yard?
What’s the name of that instrument?
What’s its name?
It’s more dangerous, Lord, than atom bombs,
and there are more sins on Shankar’s shoulders
than on the shoulders of a state.
What’s the name of that instrument?
What’s its name?
Such rapture
takes us beyond justice,
and this joy is greater
than the hearts crammed together
on the steps to your home.
Lord,
what’s the name of that instrument?
What’s the name of that instrument with which Ravi?
Shankar
rises to meet you?

Najwan Darwish
A portrait by Véronique Vercheval

Najwan Darwish’s modern and iconic Arabic poetry has occupied a unique seat in world literature. Born in 1978 and surging on the poetry scene with his first collection in 2000, he has also become an unequivocal voice for the Palestinian struggle. However, with his latest collection, Exhausted on the Cross, he has revealed his resignation and weariness of the world. Persecution, if it remains unabating as an agonising endurance on a ‘Cross’, eventually surrenders to world-weariness and reflections, and prayers, because we are not Jesus. I have decided to comment on this poem-mostly ignored by the critics-as it is a tangential prayer. For Indian readers, it will resonate because it represents universality. This universality reflects in the lines in his poem, Visiting Hafez:


I’d give Mecca, and Jerusalem too,

to the God of the Hindus.

******

I wish I could give/ all Persians,

and all Arabs too,

to the God of Hindus.

This universality is not about any literal take on it or about religions, but about the point he is making. Love is music. This is brave. However, make no mistake: it all converges to being perpetually on a cross of persecution as a Palestinian. Just that poet’s vision is panoramic about tolerance humanity must learn. He makes this clear in his poem,

In Defeat:

Who’s the bravest in defeat?

******

I advance and fall back.

I advance in defeat.

Beethoven’s words: “Music is the language of God“. Not that poet doesn’t know the name of the instrument. Remove the name of an instrument, then all that remains is a language of love, God Himself. Poet plays with this idea as a prayer and takes it to the question of humanity’s crimes, more precisely to the sins of the states. The phrase ‘sins of the state’ has more bearing on morality than on the crass wars. This morality is twisted: but is there a higher transgression when one is made to bear pains and tortures incessantly, as if riveted to a cross, from where one can only observe and find the prayers cruelly unanswered? Where is the burden of sins in this? So the poet declares that this prayer is ‘more dangerous’ as it looks like apathetic contempt. However, prayers, meditations and reflections, much like the music-a language of love-are a respite from the sufferance far better than the religious anchors of ‘the hearts crammed together’ on the steps of temples, churches or mosques. In the Abrahamic religions, it is said, sins are stacked on your shoulder when you pray. So, focusing on a prayer requires more concentration and a meditative state. Borrowing from the Islamic tradition, one can also discover in this work an oblique question regarding what takes precedence: hadith or Salah? Instrument or the music? Ibn Umar quotes the Prophet: “When a slave stands in prayer, all of his sins are brought and placed on his head and shoulders. So, every time he bows down (in Ruku`) or prostrates himself (in Sujud), the sins start falling down.”

The idea of how we don’t care for a name comes from the mention of Buraq, a creature that transported the Prophet in one night. Transport for the Prophet is the only focus. Music, the prayer, is such transport. Again, the type of the instrument is irrelevant. So is the name of Buraq.

Mention at the beginning of the poem, the ‘winged bull’ (the lamassu) is also significant. It brings to mind The Winged Bull of Nineveh. It is an Assyrian symbol of force and domination. When pairs of winged human-headed bulls guard the portals of palaces, the presence implies an authoritarian regime. Looking from the level of humanity, does the name of such a cruel regime matter anymore? It is the cruelty that should have a name but often lacks it. Also, the bulls are something that keeps you out! How can a Palestinian participate in progress if he is ‘walled’ out? This perpetually exiled status obviously indicates the Palestinian struggle. However, “resurrection” also brings the image of Egyptian god Isis to mind. She spread her wings to become a bird, and with invoking words, resurrected Osiris. (Brier 1994: 21). But this bull-like sitar-has a name, though it is not to be named. It is the resurrection or a rescue or a respite or freedom that has more significance. A poet wonders if it will ever come!

 ISBN: 9781681375526

By asking the same question, the poem takes the form of chanting. The effect and impact of the melody are so profound that the action in this poem is not about finding the name of the instrument but finding the name of God and challenging Him. It is also about not feeding the ego of any god, as there are questions to be asked. Yet, it is about faith and belief as in this last line, ‘rises to meet you?’. He expands this question in his poem, A question:

By asking the same question, the poem takes the form of chanting. The effect and impact of the melody are so profound that the action in this poem is not about finding the name of the instrument but finding the name of God and challenging Him. It is also about not feeding the ego of any god, as there are questions to be asked. Yet, it is about faith and belief as in this last line, ‘rises to meet you?’. He expands this question in his poem, A question:

This is a question for the midday sun,

for the celebrated traitor,

for the haughty abject queen.

If you are not

then who is?

******