Jayant Mahapatra: The Doyen of Poetry

Pradeep Biswal 

I first heard of Jayant Mahapatra when he bagged the Central Sahitya Akademi award for his poetry collection ‘Relationship’ in 1981. Everyone was taken by surprise. He was the first Indian English poet to receive this coveted award. A professor of Physics turned poet he had by then gotten international recognition but he was hardly known in the home state since he used to write in English. No wonder his poetry revolves around Odisha, its history, topography, myth and myriad cultural milieu.

Cuttack remains his favourite place on earth although he has travelled far and wide across the globe. Kathjodi and Mahanadi inspire him a lot in his poetic journey over the years. The black pagoda Konark, the golden beach of Puri, Lord Jagannath, the Kalinga War, Dhauli and river Daya reverberate in his poems. The holocaust of the great famine in 1866 that devastated Odisha haunted his mind with a sense of loss and disillusionment. One of his forefathers changed his faith in the face of starvation and death during those fateful days.

He was a latecomer in literature starting writing poetry hesitantly in his forties. Hailing from a Mofussil town like Cuttack in Odisha he was ignored by the intellectual poets and editors of Mumbai and Delhi during the initial days but once his poems got published in some prestigious international journals like Hudson Review he got noticed by the elite literary circles in the home turf. His unique style of narration and unusual themes earned him a distinct place in the poetry world. His poems speak of human relationships entangled in love and loss, memories of the past and fleeting reflections of time like waves on the seashore. His unbridled love for his soil and genuine feelings for the common men make him a true poet with compassion.

I came in contact with this genius in the early eighties when I was serving in All India Radio, Cuttack. One of my colleagues and close friends Shri Dipak Samantrai, himself a poet and photographer, introduced me to him. He is one of his close confidants to date.

Both of us used to visit his famous single-storied house in Tinikonia Bagicha in the heart of the town surrounded by trees and got entertained with his ever-endearing smile and small jokes over tea and snacks served by his affable wife whom we addressed as Mausi out of love and affection. Alas, she’s no more. Every time we meet he will ask me whether I could find a sweetheart for me or else it’s impossible to be a poet. Whenever I said no he would dismiss me as a poet. Once Dipak broke the news that I qualified for his test and then he burst into a big laugh and congratulated me. Much water has flown in the river Mahanadi since then. After I left Cuttack’s meeting with him became occasional.

Eleven years ago he has lost his son and Mausi left him early now he is leading a lonely life in the same house which was once humming in bliss and beauty. With falling health and age-related problems he is having a difficult time at present. Nevertheless, his house is always considered a place of pilgrimage for young poets and poetry lovers. Most of his contemporaries in the Indian English literary landscape are no more and he is now the grand old man of Indian English Poetry. Although he was senior to my father in age he always behaves like a friend.

I admire his sense of humour and childlike simplicity.  There are thousands of fans and followers like me around the world who love him and respect him as a poet and as a person as well. Age never ripened for him and he is still young in the heart in his nineties. He very often says that love is the essence of literature and that love never ends with one person in life. He is a true lover of life and literature.

He not only writes poetry but more importantly lives the life of a poet. He has dozens of poetry collections both in English and Odia and many of his poems have been published in international journals. All the awards bestowed upon him including Padmashri can never measure the poet in him and he is much above everything. He is a soulful poet who has never betrayed his heart.

His literary journey is not confined to writing poetry in English. He is a translator and editor of repute. He was associated with many literary journals as editor of their poetry page and finally, he edited and published ‘Chandrabhaga’, a journal dedicated to poetry which got instant recognition in international spheres.

Some years back he delved into writing poems in his mother tongue Odia and left an imprint with his impressive style. Recently, I had a few hours in his company in a literary seminar and I presented him a shawl as a token of honour on that occasion. When I told him that he may use it in the next winter his reply was he is not sure whether he will survive till then. It brought tears to my eyes.

Pray God he crosses hundred years of life and remains an inspiration for all of us for many more years!

(Mr. Pradeep Biswal is a bilingual poet writing both in Odia and English. His poems are widely anthologized. He is also an editor and translator of repute. A retired IAS Officer, Mr. Biswal presently holds the position of Member, Odisha Real Estate Regulatory Authority and stays with his family at Bhubaneswar. Views are Personal)

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