Poet Stephen Gill: A Dreamer of Peace
Aju Mukhopadhyay
Poets are often dreamers. No wonder that Stephen Gill, born
at Sialkot, Punjab, in undivided India, who spent his
innocent childhood days with nightmarish experiences during the turbulent
communal disharmony in New Delhi, has ever been concerned about the sordid
human nature all around us, about the ever failing human attempt to achieve
peace, would remain a dreamer throughout his life.
During his teens
Stephen lived in Karol Bagh, New Delhi which was then torn between
marauding communalists, where riot, arson, loot, rape and killing were the
orders of the days, not mainly because of religious bigotry, for that was not
the immediate cause, but for the rage of communal fury systematically aroused
in them by the so called cunning rulers who followed the grand policy of divide
and rule for years. Not only in the capital was the fire raging, it was
almost verywhere, specially
in the border areas like
However, the
history is very long and disputed, at least by the historians, as to who played
what role during those days. ‘This is the realm or condition of the “dead
people”, those who have rejected spiritual values by yielding to bestial
appetites or violence, or by perverting their human
intellect to fraud
or malice against their fellow men. As subject matter it is the lowest, ugliest, most materialistic of the whole poem.’ -- wrote Archibald T
Mac Allister in his introduction to the Inferno,
the first part of the immortal poem, The Divine Comedy, by Dante
Alighieri.
It was a living
inferno around him. In the prefaces to his two adored books of poems, Shrine
(1999) and Songs before Shrine (2007), Stephen Gill has reported his
childhood experiences of the riot torn
expression and the cause for
his Peace Project. So important incidents and experiences, which formed the material
foundation of his Shrine, need some elaboration:
The anticipation of
danger lurking in the air all the time killed me piece by piece with the unseen
sword of the distress of my mind. (p.17)..
My trust in humanity
was shaken so badly in those days that I had to struggle with myself patiently
for a long time to recover it. (p.14)
To flee from the choking condition he
got a job after frantic efforts in
In
Besides some well known personalities
like Jesus Christ, H. G. Wells and George Bernard Shaw, the cultural atmosphere
of
Through the
preface we know that he wished to remain in the community of Christians for
safety but his father did not feel alike. We come to know of the poet’s disappointment
when he realized that being a Christian would not automatically attract the
help of his fellow religionists and that in fact they were never a target of
the warring groups. So fear only consumed him. No life threatening attempt was
made on his family. Though thepoet has not been
nostalgic about his birth place or the religion of the country he was born, he
has literary links galore with it. In the context of his condemnation about the
happenings in
It is to be
remembered that for more than thousand years this country was looted and
ravished by barbaric forces coming from across the borders. It is to be remembered
that Hinduism is not an abode of polytheism only but of monotheism too, that
the Vedas taught the world everything about the essence of the divine before
few recorded religions showing any sign of sublime spiritual identity of God,
that in spite of diverse faiths Indians were culturally united throughout the
ages, yet accepted all other incoming people and their faiths to coexist in
their country, that large numbers of Indian people were converted,forcibly
or otherwise by other religions and rulers, that it is India and its people who
in spite of all onslaught of barbaric waves have not vanished like in many
Western countries, rather absorbed all other cultures in its body and has been progressing
to stand almost equal to any other culture and civilization. No Indian calls
people of other faiths infidels or idolaters though worshipping a man’s image
or name too is idolatry. In the integral culture of
The poet writes in the same preface of Shrine,
‘It is still an enigma for me how people who appear to be normal in their
everyday life turn into animals in the name of their religious creed. Is it
from Satan or in the blood?’
It may be
answered that it happens when religion in its lower strata divides. It is the
same strata which forces and allures people to convert from their own religion
to the others so that the converted enlarge the body of the other religion. It
is the voice of Satan which says that one religion or one faith is at the
pinnacle of man’s spiritual flight, only one person acts as the savior of the
mankind. And somewhere the Satan asserts that anybody who does not believe its
creed is infidel, he should be punished. Not all the scriptures tell the same
thing. At the higher level religion becomes a worship of the white spirit, the
absolute. In it there is no division, no tendency to proselytize. The tendency
to proselytize is the ill gotten child of the religion at its lower strata.
Partition
stories have been written in some books. Remarkable among them are Tamas by Bhism Sahani, Train to Pakistan by Khuswant
Singh and Freedom at Midnight by Dominique Lapierre
and Larry Collins. It may be said that the disastrous partition could be avoided
in 1942 when Sir Strafford Cripps offered Dominion Status which at first was
accepted by Nehru and C. Rajagopalachari but rejected
by Gandhi. Sri Aurobindo sent his personal messenger
to the then leaders advising to accept it. Instead, Quit India movement was
begun which proved to be full of violence and the
truncated freedom came as it would voluntarily come,
under the helpless condition of the British. It was the example of
another Himalayan blunder of Gandhiji, who at last pleaded for partition though not over
his body.
The ill feeling
continues, illustrated by the post-Godhra incidents
in
Stephen Gill is
highly conscious of all such incidents of terror throughout the world including
in
In
the lap of
unruffled solitude
I
hold the book of memories. . . .
open my inner eyes
to the fruits
of pains and pleasures. (“Journey”)
I
have planted in my yard
the trees
which give the fruits of pain,
tear, loneliness
and self destruction. (“Legacy”)
He finds devastation all around:
Bodies
rotting in ditches
or dumped with the garbage.
Bodies
washing up
onto the beaches. . .
All
lie here
like the mowed grass on the lawn.
Who
are these faces
on whose eyes and cheeks
drops of blood
glitter like pearls. (“A Familiar Scene”)
I
have gazed
into the graveyard of their eyes. . .
In
the furnace
of their helplessness
they burn themselves . . . (“Refugees”)
Like a master social worker and
sympathetic psychiatrist he finds out in “Slavery”, ”A Heroin Addict”, ”Abandoned”
and “Amputee” the reasons why a person becomes a murderer, another a drug
addict, a boy devil and an innocent girl worse than a harlot. For example,
mark the following expressions:
He
comes from a home
where
neglect and desertion
were common. (“Abandoned”)
The
years of abuse
has damaged the delicate nerves
of her relationship with God,
men and herself. . .
Scenes
of childhood lock her
behind the barbed wires
of her fragile hopes. (“Amputee”)
Though he has immense hope from
Democracy, he finds it maimed as autocrats rule the roost. Muscle is more powerful
than sane voice of wisdom, as we find in “Lotus of Freedom”, “Seed of
Democracy” and “The Ballot has Muscles.” In the poem “Who Runs Our World”, Gill
shows
that politics, money and blood run our
world. With a sympathetic heart, social concern and unending inquisitiveness
the poet finds hopelessness as the presiding deity of the time:
Year
after year
the same concerns.
Life
comes back to life. . .
The
future seems crumbling
in a fog of sands. (“Year after Year”)
Every
year the same act is repeated:
Only
calendars become new.
Some
cards are traded
some feasts are arranged.
This
is not a change.
(“On the New Year”)
In
this valley of sand
not all that we see is true:
only the gossip. (“A New Canadian in
Science, technology and commerce have
done miracles in the material world but have not helped mankind’s elevation to
any higher plane of life:
I
am the father of conflicts,
engulfed by the devils of technology. . . .
Dreams
open their windows
to let in the breeze of repose
but the hands of commerce
frustrate their attempts
by polluting surroundings
with the acid rains
of rush. . . rush. . . rush. (“Twentieth Century Says”)
The poet’s hope, it seems, has been
crushed
:
It
is easier to carve a god
out of stone
than to curve a being
out of human. (“In My Books”)
But he has hopes in the will of masses
:
Like
a thunder
I
fuse into the clouds.
When
I drop
even the earth yields.
Cruelty
cannot kill me.
(“Will of Masses”)
The poet often speaks biographically:
The
immigrant in me
talks of the days. . . .
Those
painful shrieks
hidden in his blood
stagger at night. . . .
The
Canadian in me
works harder day after day
to pay his bills
hoping one day
he would be free. (“Tenants in Me”)
But the poet is
quite sure to stay on in his country of refuge, where he has found comparative
peace and security. He refutes the charge that he is an intruder for he knows
that exodus and resettlement are part of the human routine throughout the
history. Have not the Whites settled in new-found lands driving out the
original inhabitants? If he is asked to go back,
Where
would the whites go?
How
about Mohawks and Inuit?
If
you know Canadian history! . . .
Do
not tell me to go anywhere,
my friend.
This
is our land
where our father lives.
We
are all in exile.
(“Go Back”)
Saying
this he adds,
. . . the
world has become a village
where
no one is an island to self
any
more
any
more. (ibid.)
Some of the autobiographical poems are
quite intimate
where the poet looks at himself in
retrospect:
Under
the brow of the cloudy skies
those deep eyes
dropped the dew of innocence
on the wings of my guilt
which I carry still
while searching for
In a similar poem we find the faint echo
of romantic love, as if with himself again in “Peace of
Mind”, where he says that Whenever I
think of you/ lightning thunders/ in the lonesomeness of my retreat.
Stephen Gill says that “Poetry is to present my vision and my
concerns, and to conceive peace in a peaceful way. The compelling
influence of my crusade is
peace that is beauty; the peace that is creative, the peace that makes life
meaningful,” the poet writes in the preface to Song Before Shrine but it
ever eludes him:
For
a long time
I
have been hearing
the dove of peace will be freed
shortly. . .
progress has been made. . . .
our homes now better adorned
with thorns of hatred
a few more nuclear bombs
remains to be developed
and contested
man is to breathe his last
in the smoke. . . (“The Dove of Peace”)
Earlier
in the Shrine he wrote:
Our
rulers talk of peace
but it is futile
when nuclear powered marines
sail over breasts of the oceans;
missiles look down like hawks
and neutrons
make fun of every life. (“Talking of Peace”)
It
seems really a fun to seek peace here. What he witnessed and experienced, kept
such an indelible mark on the pages of his memory that he never forgets them.
In “I Have Seen” he writes about his experiences about all sorts of human
failings, treachery, debauchery and infidelity. He
remembers,
Famished
walking skeletons
bodies resting unshrouded
forlorn infants and old
sad sighs of the sisters. (“I have Seen”)
Even In many aspects/ mosquitoes
excel humans. They are happy sea-waves/ also
honest and brave. (“Ode to Mosquitoes”)
A
child ever wails to get new things and remains ever hankering after new
desires, so the poet finds, It is man’s
fate/ to chase pleasure
as do toddlers. (“Man is Ever a Child”)
Peace is an enigmatic being to him: In “Evening
of Harmony” he says, Beyond those solitary church towers /I see the sun of harmony sinking… In “ and Peace” he
complains:
You’re
a will-o’-the-wisp
a chain of onion layers
mysterious, another paradox
you seem cruel and flippant
or just an image to believe.
Again:
The
sinking sun shines close by
while empty stomachs hold the mast.
No
Christ
Appears
to appease the savage sea.(“Rays of
Harmony”)
We remember, Sri Aurobindo
said that all problems of life are essentially problems of harmony. The poet
here feels that harmony has gone,
.
. . night of terror
chews peace
in the endless depth
of cultural insanities. (“Evening of Harmony”)
Not only human discordance,
environmental pollutants also choke him. He wishes to hibernate,
Away
from swarming cities
Stench
from pollutants. . . .
‘where waves no longer roar
distrust has no teeth. (“Let us Hibernate”)
He seeks Nirvana in silence where drops of
harmony produce a lullaby (Nirvana): I
wish to breathe undisturbed/ away from obnoxious sights.and
dusty pride in the march of technology and science. (“In
My Own Womb”). He wishes, as a remedy, to invoke the blessings of the
sages. Aren’t they Indian sages? . . . those sages could
teach/scheming players/ how to love and live! (“Where are They?”)
After a long
journey with the poet through his poems, do we not feel that peace evades him?
Apparently he is frustrated but the poet in him never dies for ultimately he is
a seer, ever dreamer of peace. He beseeches Nightingales, Clouds, Dove,
Butterfly, Eagle and the Angel to bestow him their special faculties to help
him feel ‘the flesh of peace.’ (“If You Lend Me”). In
“Idol for My Temple”, a nice poem like many of his, he wishes to borrow
vibrations from different aspects of nature to weave the pattern of peace.
Wishing, inviting and praying finally gives place to dreaming in “Prince of
Peace”, The rays of his presence/ shall
unlock the portals/ of human castles. He is sure in “Domain of Peace”:
The
pulsation of my heart
mumbles to me
that the adders of today
would pave the way
for that glorious dawn
when even thorns and beasts
brighten their faces and eyes
in the panoramic landscape
of harmony. (“Domain of Peace”)
Here we hear a
distant echo of the hope for the possibility of a Life Divine on earth as
envisioned by Sri Aurobindo, one of the greatest
poets and philosophers of the world in his The Life Divine and the
largest spiritual epic poem in English language, Savitri.
Sri Aurobindo and after him the Mother, his collaborator,
caused the descent and emergence of eternal Supramental
(a term coined by Sri Aurobindo, meaning the highest
spiritual consciousness so far envisaged) light, force and consciousness on
earth through integral yoga. They said that gradually, as the mankind would be soaked
in that consciousness, all discord, disharmony, hatred, competition and
inequality would vanish and a life divine shall be established on earth. These hopes are not futile. They will be real and concrete if we
collaborate. In his long poem, The Flame,
Stephen Gill prays for the deliverance from the ugly disharmony and terrorism.
He prays to the divine:
To
direct my steps
towards the shores of the pure bliss
of your peace
I
shall dip in the esoteric stream
that meanders along the woodlands
of my absolute fidelity.
As a poet Stephen Gill has discussed
‘What is poetry?’ in his introduction to books of poems and in interviews, with
reference to his own experiences. As a lover of freedom from all traditions and
customs in writing poems, for which Japanese medium is the best, he feels that
he has poured in his ideas about it in the introduction to Flashes, a collection
of Haiku.
Let us now enter into his theory of
poetry. If we take Wordsworth’s definition of poetry, ‘Overflow of powerful feelings’
as emotion in contrast to T. S. Eliot’s definition of it as ‘An escape from
emotions’, we come to Coleridge’s ‘Emotions recollected in tranquility’. Though
none of these
definitions is liked by Gill
exactly, he comes round to the central point of emotion which he names as ‘airy
beings’ to be caught in the net of poet’s words. Here he gives poetic talent
only 25 per cent credit, rest being given to his labour
for selecting words, correcting and polishing, etc. Though he has said by way
of reference that poetry is spiritual and psychic experience, he has not dwelt
in it much. It is the domain of a yogi-poet, as Sri Aurobindo
was, who gave much value to intuitive faculty of a poet and said that there are
higher sources of poetry like the Overmind and yet higher
levels, mainly in his voluminous treatise, The Future Poetry. After some years
of writing poetry, words dropped on to his pen from higher regions. He did not
think to write anything during the larger part of his life.
Gill has given 75
per cent credit to labour in composing a poem but in
his long discussion about Haiku he says, ‘I like to be free like nature itself.
. . . I do not perceive much creativity in work in which a poet has to struggle
to confer to the established norms.’ He makes full and meaningful use of
metaphors, sometimes in excess, in his poems with other ornaments and
occasional rhyming; quite true and
spontaneous
expression of the poet. And
there lies the beauty of his poems, often with apt imagery. By nature he is a
poet with sensitive heart, creative brain and passion for poetry. His family
migrated from their home in
On the basis of
his experiences from the childhood and the present socio-politico-economic conditions
of the world, the poet has become peace prone. He earnestly wishes to establish
a peaceful world order. Not only has he written poems urging peace but edited
two volumes of anti-war anthologies of poems. ‘I hope that my writings about
peace will cause change in the thinking of my readers’ he has written. He has been
writing essays in support of peace. Many poets are involved in it, like Maria
Cristina Azcona of
Though awards do
not exactly signify the merits of a person for obvious reasons, on whom awards are bestowed
from several quarters, may be said to have some real worth. Dr. Stephen Gill,
author of more than 25 books including novel, short stories, critiques and
essays, of which poetry books number 9, has been chosen by several universities,
the world over, for different honours. In 2005
The poet is very
much alive to the world situations. He
often protests, as he has recently done, to the demand for
========================================================
Aju Mukhopadhyay, a bilingual writer, has written poetry, fiction and
criticism. He has 12
books in Bangla and 11 in English. His works have been recognized
with awards by such bodies as the
Writers
Bureau of
International
Library of
Poetry and some others.