Your early writing met with much criticism, mostly negative. Kiran Nagarkar recently spoke of similar attacks when he first strayed from Marathi as his language of expression. What is it about writers who break free of linguistic constructs that brings on such anger? Are you suddenly regarded as traitors of some sort?
My early writing broke away from that of my immediate precursors. The hostility it aroused in them was the establishment's response to anything that's new but can't be ignored because it catches the attention of even their own readership. Unlike what they did in Nagarkar's case, nobody (except a contemporary I shall not name) ever accused me of being a traitor to Marathi. I wrote and published in Marathi as well as in English. There was no question of abandoning one in favour of the other. My writing has not depended on any pampering by publishers, critics, or readers. I appreciate the response I get from the few who see something of value in what I do. As a poet, I am used to the notion of a limited audience. Novelists crave larger audiences, dream of living on royalties or advances on their future work, and I sympathise with them.
Much of your work, and that of your colleagues such as G N Devy, has attempted to draw India's attention to its dispossessed tribal communities. Does that battle still rage? Are you satisfied with what has been done so far?
G N Devy is an academic turned full-time activist. The Adivasi Academy founded by him in Tejgadh, Gujarat, is now doing something unique and historic. Devy was inspired by the work of Mahashveta Devi, the great fiction writer and fighter for tribal rights. I am not in their category. I am primarily a poet and an artist, and occasionally a thinker. I support activists, activist organizations, and any person or institution that attempts to empower the marginalized.
The dispossessed in India comprise as much as 30 per cent of our population and 300 million would make a nation by itself. The hyped image of upbeat India at the beginning of this millennium is an illusion: India is more like an athlete with gangrene. Recently, during a lecture in Europe, I described India as 'not a waking giant but perhaps only a delinquent monster' for ignoring its dispossessed.
Image: Dilip Chitre at the Prithvi theatre during the 2007 Kitab festival in Mumbai.
Also see: Future of world hinges on India, says new book
Advertisement
