Beauty?

By Shashwat Shukla

Edgar Allan Poe defined poetry as the rhythmic creation of beauty

And I thought to myself.....is this beauty that I have created?

My words have almost never walked the path of pithy beauty. They paint a grim picture of the large ball of fire that engulfs me each day from all corners of this little universe.

They also said poetry is reflection

I’ve never looked at myself for more than 10 seconds in the mirror in my life

I feel it always shows what others see of me

In my head, I look like I sound. And I sound different in my head to how the world hears me – that’s just science as my sister explained. We resonate more inside our own heads and sound different to ourselves than that which is heard by others as our ‘voice’.

To check it, use a recording device and listen to your ‘voice’ in the recording

And that is why I never even listen to myself for more than 5 seconds on record. As that is not at all how I sound, at least not to myself.

And there begins dissonance. Never will anyone see or hear me as I do.

So why write poetry? If everything you see or hear is a lie? An inaccurate description? Or worse... A part truth!

They also said poetry is the ultimate expression of the dramatic.

I believe life gives you as much drama as you want from it. My grandmother wants loads, and gets it everyday

Not a day has gone by in the last decade where she hasn’t had a whole breakdown in front of others.

And yet to me, we’ve had a very quiet decade as a family – no deaths, no births, no scams that we fondly call marriages.

If life is poetry, then this is the most pedantic and prosaic section you’ll come across. Our whole life could be read through our tax returns. That’s how banal it has been and yet

And yet, grandma has managed one dramatic scene after another; it seems like a decade long operatic note held by a moderately talented singer whose performance none would’ve watched but for their declaration to break a world record or simultaneously dance on fire or whatever else a person has to do when they can’t impress you with their original skillset...

The other day I heard a famous person say – ‘write about what you know’ and that the ‘best piece of poetry is about the lived experience’

But all I know are stories and songs and poems from others that I’ve grown up with

I never read my literature in the 8th grade. So all I know is such quotes as the one I gave you above

My lived experience is made entirely out of watching and reading and humming what others have written, read out and sung for me. What I’ve won awards for, and been educated at, has been theories and stories woven by others in lives they lived about facts they observed.

Heck, the coolest thing I know is also not about me but about a South American bird – it’s very common for these birds to take up new partners after having a baby, but the amazing thing is that those partners, and their babies also join this household, making it a four parent, three child house

Well it is poetic to read and reflect, but it’s not something I do

Which brings me back to my foremost conundrum –

Is what I’ve written so far a rhythmic creation of beauty?

It’s firstly the eye of the beholder – you – who I least care about as I go on writing

And then the question of whether ‘I’ have anything to do with this creation

‘This piece’ above – is not how I talk everyday

It isn’t how I look or sound to myself

It won’t be how I read it, when you read it in your voice or in your head

The stories aren’t mine here, they’re all borrowed or rented or forcefully occupied in some cases

So when you read it, if you read it, do create a rhythm for yourself and add beauty to it

As I now believe and reflect, I give you the only original thought I’ve had in this piece – Life gives you as much beauty as you want from it

By Shashwat Shukla