Hard Words From An Open Page... Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

I`d read out my poems to many; some friends, all students and seemingly poetry lovers.While reading I`d often look at their faces to watch feedback.I`d allow them some time to ponder over and love to answer their questions, sometimes diving into the very depths of a theme.Some of them looked to have taken it for nothing but a routine work.Just a few showed their growing interest with their eyes shining more on each of the poems. Some seemed to have given up long before a thoughtful journey began, maybe, just because they believe that poetry is not their cup of tea. Some others may think that such creative work is merely fanciful intellectuality, what has very little to do with daily concrete realty. Again, some of them may love the poems of this poet just because they love the poet personally. They love to know the poet more than his poetry. But discovering a poet through his work is the best way, I believe. When a poet gets larger than his work, it is disgrace to such a sublime fine art like poetry. In my mind, good poetry of a poet is the true identity of a good poet. None but the avid readers could know him the best. Now that I realize no good thing could be forcibly pumped into a person until their minds are ready and alert to accept, I quit the old habit of sharing my joys and sorrows through my poems with others, especially reading out to them directly myself. Finally, all have right to like or dislike poetry as many other things. But, it is so dear to me, even more than my life, I can never make it cheap by catering to all and sundry. So, my poems are only for the readers who love to read them themselves. I declare to change my habit right here and now. Thanks for listening to such personal words.