Cross Talk
When art intimidates life
ONE of the granite figures of slimy politics, he was once a potentate who ruled this country. That was the time when he was also a practicing poet. He wrote poetry, he wrote songs -- some of which were made into videos for television. He got his book published, and consorted with poetic minds until one day he was constrained to give up power. Then something happened. Either his creative juice dried up or he lost interest. We didn't hear much about poetry again from this man.
There was also a female poet around the same time whose husband, again, was a powerful man. Her poetry gained prominence, one was even adapted into short film, and she was a ubiquitous figure on our poetry scene. Then, poof! Once her husband lost his job, she was gone. We lost interest in her before she lost interest in poetry, or both must have happened around the same time.
These are the instances of how Neroes amongst us often abuse power to become heroes, and return to zeroes when power is gone. It's true, power has its magic. It can make the blind see and the lame walk. It can also make poets out of a deadmeat. But is it right?
The answer is a resounding no. Nepotism is when a man of power dishes out favours to his friends and relatives. Narcissism is when someone falls in excessive love with his own image or ego. The rise and fall of poetic genius on account of power is wrong on both counts. It's morally wrong to use one's power to establish a talent, which doesn't exist. It's a personality disorder to accept that false credential and bask in its glory.
The problem is that this absurd situation is now a national phenomenon. It has branched out to include family members, even in other creative fields. Wives, mothers, daughters, sons, brothers, sisters, uncles and lovers are being regularly promoted for talents which were latent until their loved ones got power in their hands. In fact, it's now a thriving industry. Thousands of people are engaged in it. They are working to upstage the family members of their bosses by the way of building their own career opportunities.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy writes, while reflecting on Robert Frost in The Atlantic Monthly: "A nation reveals itself not only by the men it produces but also by the men it honours, the men it remembers." It goes without saying that all three elements are interwoven.
A nation can only honour the men it produces, and remember the men it honours. This is where we have been making an awful mess. Everyone from his position of power, be it the seat of government, television channel, newspaper, or any other platform, is pushing his favourites, oblivious to the fact that birth of writers, singers, and performers are determined not by bloodline but by talent.
Not to say that bursts of genius can't run in the family. In Bollywood, the children of movie stars are getting breaks in the industry. Connection gives them a breakthrough, and then they are left to free market, staying in business if people want them, and going away, if not. But in this market the demand side is forced to take bad poetry, substandard writing, cacophonous songs or odious performances by the supply side, which has power and money huddled behind it.
I suppose one could argue that we have the right to reject what doesn't always meet our taste. But that belies the concept of public nuisance. If someone plays loud music in the neighbourhood, we can shut our doors and windows, even use earplugs to mute the noise. The right thing, however, is to walk up to that person and tell him that he should lower the sound.
In our national life we have altogether banished the concept of public nuisance. Instead, we have learned to ignore and condone, tending not to make our business how others promote their family and friends. Although one wishes others had kept it within the confines of their own business. It doesn't matter who is the news editor of a newspaper or cameraman for a television station. Right or wrong, human resources are a business decision.
Not so when it's a question of talent, which has far-reaching implications on the entire nation. Here we are talking about resourceful people, our creative minds, people who are to set the standards for us, people who will be honoured and remembered by posterity, people who will be their role models.
It doesn't matter if a wife is beautiful, daughter is adorable, mother is irascible, sister is unavoidable, uncle is respectable and lover is irresistible. There is no reason why national excellence should be subjected to anyone's whim or stubborn insistence.
There is a perfect scene from the movie Lawrence of Arabia where Bedouin raiders, led by Lawrence, thunder through a canyon in Jordan on their way to lay siege to the port city of Aqabah. On top of the cliffs, women in black are ululating and at the bottom the men are chanting poetry. It is a powerful imagery of how the human spirit is propelled by the strength of verses. Poetry comes when power fails to levitate the souls of men.
That's true for any art, be it writing, music or painting. The power of art arises from the deepest womb of human existence, mankind's innate ability to establish truth, the touchstone of all their judgments. Art heals when power hurts. Art cleanses when power corrupts. Thus, art is the last port of human sensibility, power being its first call.
Power ignobles art and art ennobles power. Both of these are basic instincts which drive the world. In this country, we have got them jumbled. The art of power is confused with the power of art. If we can snatch power, we believe the same applies to art. Art imitates life. But when power usurps its essence, art intimidates life.
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