Syed Amanuddin (b. 1934): Don't call me
Indo-Anglian
no i don't
want to be
a
hotchpotch of culture
a
confusion of language
a nullity
of imagination
an abortive affair between an indo and an
anglo
i hate
hyphens
the artificial bridges
between artificial values
in the name of race religion n language
i damn all
hyphenated minds
prejudiced offsprings of unenlightened souls
i denounce
all labels and labelmakers
i refuse
to be a moonrock specimen
to be analyzed labelled n stored
for a curious gloomy fellow to
reanalyze reclassify me
for shelving me again
they call
me indo-anglian
I don't now what they mean
cauvery flows in my veins
chamundi hills rise in my mind with stars
afloat
eyes of the goddess smiling on the slain
demon
brindavan fountains sing in my soul
but i am
not tied down to my childhood scene.
i have led languages by their ears
i have twisted creeds to force the truth out
i have burned candles in the caves of
prejudice
i have surged in the oceans of being
i have flown across the universe on the wings
of my thought
they call
me indo-anglian
the mistaken misinformed folk
n class me with a small group of writers
cloistering me
crippling me
i would
rather roam with kalidasa n kabir
or go on a
spiritual journey with dante
meditate
with khayyam on the mathematics of existence
or sing
with ghalib the anguish of love
or drown
with li po kissing the moon's reflection in the river
they call
me indo-anglian
it's true i write in english
dream in the language of shakespeare n keats
but I am not an anglo my friend
i am a POET
i have lived forty centuries under various
names
i am now
amanuddin
----
don’t call me indo-anglian – syed amanuddin (Summary)
Syed Amanuddin was born and brought up in
Mysore, South India, and later he migrated to America. This is the reason that
his poetry unifies the Indian clarity and American modernity. Syed Amanuddin is
a poet with a blend of Indian essence and American flavor in his writings. His
works capture the essence of the human experience like joy, happiness, love,
pain, suffering and death. He has a very distinguished style of writing, which
resembles to E. E. Cummings style of writing. Both of them introduced the
Avant-grade style in writing poetry, which experiments the conventional rules
of syntax and punctuation. His poem ‘don’t
call me indo-anglian’ is the best example, which unfolds the liberty to use
his syntactic structures. His usage of negative words like ‘hotchpotch’,
‘confusion’, ‘nullity’ and ‘abortive’ unveil his disgust as he was put in the
category of Indo-Anglian men of letters.
Syed Amanuddin denounces being addressed as
an Indo-Anglian. In a staccato speech pattern, he designates the word
‘Indo-Anglian’ as a ‘hotchpotch of culture’, which suggests lack of
belongingness to either of cultures. It seems he feels himself illegitimate
when somebody assigns him as Indo-Anglian and it ‘aborts’ his identity as an
individual. The complete absence of punctuation in the entire poem shows
strongly the urgency to vent out his aggression and frustration or of the
repression of anger that he has been undergoing for a long time.
Syed Amanuddin, in his poem ‘don’t call me indo-anglian’ vehemently
rejected his identity as an Indo-Anglian. He hated ‘hyphens’ that play as
bridges between artificial values in the name of race, religion and languages.
He denounced all pseudo labels and label makers. He declared that his writings
are not be a ‘moon rock specimen’ to be analyzed, labeled and stored for
another curious gloomy fellow to reanalyze and reclassify and put them back
into the shelves of the book racks again.
He said that they called him Indo-Anglian
that he did not understand what it exactly mean. Though he was migrated to
America he nostalgically recalled his hometown Mysore and its important
landmarks like Cauvery river, Chamundi hills, Deity Chamundi who slain the
demon and haunting music of Brindavan fountains. But he did not want to confine
himself to his childhood scenes. He had flown across the universe on the wings
of his thought in search of the truth by knowing languages and their creeds and
kindled the candles of wisdom in the dark caves of prejudice.
Even then they called him Indo-Anglian by the
mistaken misfortuned folk classify him with a small group of writers, which
made him cloistered and crippled. Though he was able to roam with Kalidasa
and Kabir.
He could go on a spiritual journey with
Dante and meditate with Khayyam on the mathematics of
existence. He could sing the songs with anguish of love with Galib
or even he could drown with Li Po
kissing the moon’s reflection in the river.
In fact, he was not Anglo but he could write
in English surely in the language of Shakespeare and Keats. But his name was
categorized as Indo-Anglian, which was just confined to a few men of letters. He
did not digest this type of segregation.
The poem begins with utter
dissatisfaction and disappointment. The
most remarkable thing in this poem that marks the poet’s style is his audacity
to challenge the linguistic norms. It seems like he exploits them in a rage
against their non-acceptability. It is he does not belong to them then their
rules do not belong to him. Amanuddin
presented in his poem ‘don’t call me
indo-anglian’ a clear picture of what he feels about his hybridized identity.
The sense of loss of belongingness haunts his identity, which finds no
satisfaction but ends in victorious chant when Amanuddin finds his identity as
“POET”. His diasporic identity vanishes with this declaration which makes him
universal and every where, when he says:
i am a POET
i have lived forty
centuries under various names
i am now amanuddin
Thus Amanuddin revolt against the conservative
ideas of the literary world.
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