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BOOKS
AUTHORSPEAK
Makarand Paranjape
Professor of Poetry
The dusty, arid
curves to the School of Languages at Delhi's Jawaharlal Nehru University
can be spied through the windows of room 222, currently occupied by Makarand
Paranjape, professor of English. Inside, cool air is sweeping across the
R.K. Narayans, the volumes of poetry and essays,
over the large table stacked with papers and across the low chairs, and
the pictures made by a 10-year-old daughter who used to call her father-author
of 17 books and come September, a fellow at Ball State University, Indiana-mummy.
Paranjape,
40, produced Used Book (Indialog) like others create progeny. It took
nine years though, not months of time and tide: the resignation of "Hymn
to Her", the avaricious "Miss Gobble", the cool moistness
of "Umbrellas", the embracing cynicism of "soul wrenching
struggle" and, at his best, after bringing home from university four
cases of literature, "the same story repeated all over again".
"Undies and Neurotica" are unexpected insights for a man, but
the poet, made to suffer the ignominy of a "lesser citizen (man)
because I studied English" drew from a latent androgyny, staggering
with "when I awoke they had scoured my womb" ("Lost Cause").
"As a student, I loved books and wanted, if possible, to write them,"
says Paranjape, whose belief in the unseen hand of the "heavenly
chessmaster" and the blanket comfort of rebirth allows for a strenuous
but amiable Indo-Anglian literary existence. So his one great book will
be written, and while waiting for that to happen, "life will be my
greatest work of art", each day spent in pleasurable anticipation.
Paranjape was born in Ahmedabad and studied
in Bangalore before heading for St Stephen's, Delhi, a college whose alumni
writers forever bear the insignia of the Stephanian school of literature.
After a PhD from the University of Illinois, he returned to India and
to a customs officer who insisted that "philosophers don't need computers".
So I'll keep this, thank you very much. "I wanted to turn right back,"
says Paranjape. "But I'm glad I didn't." And the muse hasn't
stopped since.
--Sonia Faleiro
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