I am fairly certain no other “major poet” in world history has written as many poems concerning the rasika, the sahrudaya, the kindred-spirit as Bendre has. Indeed, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that Bendre’s raison d’etre for writing and publishing his poetry — especially in his later years, after people had begun to call his poems complicated and incomprehensible and obfuscatory — was his belief that the best (kind of) poetry was a ‘give and take’ between the kavi (poet) and the sahrudaya (the appreciative kindred spirit). This sentiment is supported by Bendre’s many ‘statements’ on the subject in his prose writings as well as by the several poems he wrote about it. Indeed, I myself have published two of those poems on this very website. They are The Pollen Calls and Rasika. (In both poems, we see Bendre speaking to the rasika: in allusive fashion in the former and more directly in the latter.)
What’s more, please note that in the introduction to Rasika, I have offered some samples from Bendre’s prose that express his views about the relationship between the poet and the rasika.
Now with this poem, it seems to me that Bendre “goes a step further” in expressing his relationship with the rasika. To see what I mean, please read the afterword. But first — here are the poem and its translation.
Note: I am very pleased to say that I have finally managed to collaborate with both Amma and Appa on the same poem. Specifically, Appa has played the part of the rasika in our Kannada ‘duet’ and Amma has played the same part in our English ‘duet’. I’ve played the part of the poet (kavi) in both. I hope you enjoy both recitations!
Recitation of the Kannada poem:
You sat listening to my songs,
I sat to listen to you sing;
As though in echo of the joy I felt,
I saw that your éyes were dancing.
You’ve created your new poetry to
the rhythmed-beat of my dancing eyes;
does the koel not sing in the burgeoning spring?
That song you sing’s not yours – it’s mine!
The essence of a peeled sad-happiness is joy;
the same reflection’s found in every heart!
The song-essence was forgotten in your gaze,
my throat has now become your flute.
Recitation of the English translation:
(Translated by Madhav K. Ajjampur)
Poem Details: From the collection “ಉಯ್ಯಾಲೆ”, first published in 1938.
It seems to me that this poem is more intimate than the two other (translated) poems concerning the rasika. To elaborate, in Rasika, we see the poet speaking not simply of the every heart’s need for ‘a kindred spirit’, but his own specific need for the rasika, for ‘the kindred heart’ ready to accept the ‘song offering’ he wishes to send forth. The poem ends in the suggestion that the poet’s final happiness lies in the rasika‘s wholehearted embracing of the poem that has been sent forth. Or, looked at another way, while the poem showcases the rasika as a figure essential to the poet (and, consequently, his poetry), it also positions him as the ‘taker’, as someone who is ‘on the outside looking in’ and accepting the ‘gifts’ that come his way.
In this poem, however, we see the rasika ‘coming in’ from the outside. He is now an integral part of the poem and inseparably involved with its creation. Indeed, the poem can be understood as a symbiotic “dialectic” of sorts — where neither the poet nor the rasika is the single creator of the poem but, instead, engage in a ‘give and take’ (through a mirrored partnership) that is ultimately responsible for the creation of the poem. Indeed, the “action-reaction” nature of the exchange allows us to think of the poem’s creation as the result of a (continuous) back and forth: poet — rasika — poet — rasika — poet and so on. Or, looked at another way, the poem is indicative of Bendre’s stance about poetry and its creation as a collaboration between the kavi and the rasika in such a inextricable manner as to allow them to exchange positions. In other words — their give-and-take partnership brings forth a poetry that neither of them could singly create.