World Poetry Congress in Maebashi, Japan (1996)

ldad return home! My father travels on the late evening train Standing among silent commuters in the yellow light Suburbs slide past his unseeing eyes His shirt and pants are soggy and his black raincoat Stained with mud and his bag stuffed with books Is falling apart. His eyes dimmed by age fade homeward through the humid monsoon night. Now I can see him getting off the train Like a word dropped from a long sentence. He hurries across the length of the grey platform, Crosses the railway line, enters the lane, His chappals are sticky with mud, but he hurries onward.

Home again, I see him drinking weak tea, Eating a stale chapati, reading a book. He goes into the toilet to contemplate Man’s estrangement from a man-made world. Coming out he trembles at the sink, The cold water running over his brown hands, A few droplets cling to the greying hairs on his wrists. His sullen children have often refused to share Jokes and secrets with him. He will now go to sleep Listening to the static on the radio, dreaming Of his ancestors and grandchildren, thinking Of nomads entering a subcontinent through a narrow pass.

The poem speaks about the inner loneliness of the poet’s father, the utter alienation he is experiencing in the twilight years (man’s estrangement from a man-made world) as he ceases to matter to his children who no longer share anything with him. All the while he is trying to evoke, through the racial conscious, the invisible connection with his ancestors who had entered the sub-continent through the Khyber Pass in the Himalayas in some distant past (the allusion is perhaps to the migration of the Aryans to the Indian subcontinent from Central Asia).

The poet uses some fine imagery to describe the pain and misery lurking in the old man’s soul as he travels in the local train . His bag stuffed with books is falling apart refers to the state of the old man’s mind which has turned senile after all that knowledge it has acquired through years of dedicated study. A wonderful image is used to describe his getting down from the train: Like a word dropped from a long sentence .

The uniqueness of the image lies in the highly evocative visual picture of an old man dropping off from the train as though he is no longer relevant to the train which will now move forward with other people to their destinations. The old man is just a word in the syntax of life. The sentence that is long enough to carry several words forward each contributing to its overall meaning now drops off one stray word, which is no longer required. The other interesting image is the eyes and vision, which occurs in the poem again and again.

The suburbs slide past his unseeing eyes is a pretty image. The second one is his eyes dimmed by age fade homeward. Above all we may look at the dexterous use of words to convey the “twilight” atmosphere in the poem : evening train, yellow light, unseeing eyes , his eyes dimmed by age fade homeward ,gray platform. Meaning of the poem is also a part of “to know, how to live in the society”. Other meaning is It’s all about the severe problem of generation gap. The widening crisis due to the explosion of rational. Father Returning Home is a poem written by Dilip Chitre.

The main idea of this poem is ‘Man’s estrangement from a man-made world’. Here the father comes home late tired with his pants are soggy and his black raincoat is stained with mud and his bag is falling apart-He never cares the scenes of the outer world when he travels. Because he is always musing about his family. He is so true about his family, yet no one in his family realizes his care for them. He gets only the weak tea and stale chapati. (Look, he is the only one who works hard for his family yet he does not get even good food.             The lines like ‘The cold water running over his brown hands, A few droplets cling to the greying hairs on his wrists’ are used to add to the effect of the life and the world of poor father. His children are not ready to share jokes with him-their sullenness shows the unspoken resentment. And finally, even when he goes to bed the story is not different. There he receives only noised receiving, not even a good program from the radio. In short the father has no joy in his life; there is no closeness between the father and the children.

The only thing that changes the mood of the poem is when he thinks about his dead yesterdays (ancestors) and unborn tomorrows (grand-children and nomads) -Here one thing must be noted that he dreams about these people not about his own children. Patel wanted to convey the idea of unseen sincerity of millions of fathers who strive hard for their family and their people. Dilip Chitre’s poem “Father Returning Home” is selected from “Travelling in A Cage”. It speaks about the dull and exhausting daily routine of a commuter. Delinked from his family he is left with himself to talk.

Dreaming about his ancestors and grand children he communicates with the dead ‘yesterdays and unborn tomorrows. ‘ His alienation is complete and irreversible. Sleep and dream come as sweet relief from a world that is alien to him. The theme of the poem is “Man’s estrangement from a man-made world. ” Dilip Purushottam Chitre (Marathi: ????? ?????????? ?????? ) was one of the foremost Indian writers and critics to emerge in the post Independence India. Apart from being a very important bilingual writer, writing in Marathi and English, he was also a painter and filmmaker. Biography

He was born in Baroda on 17 September 1938. His father Purushottam Chitre used to publish a periodical named Abhiruchi which was highly treasured for its high, uncompromising quality. Dilip Chitre’s family moved to Mumbai in 1951 and he published his first collection of poems in 1960. He was one of the earliest and the most important influences behind the famous “little magazine movement” of the sixties in Marathi. He started Shabda with Arun Kolatkar and Ramesh Samarth. In 1975, he was awarded a visiting fellowship by the International Writing Programme of the University of Iowa in Iowa City, Iowa in the United States.

He has also worked as a director of the Indian Poetry Library, archive, and translation centre at Bharat Bhavan, a multi arts foundation, Bhopal. He also convened a world poetry festival in New Delhi followed by an international symposium of poets in Bhopal. His Ekun Kavita or Collected Poems were published in the nineteen nineties in three volumes. As Is,Where Is selected English poems (1964-2007) and “Shesha” English translation of selected Marathi poems both published by Poetrywala are among his last books published in 2007. He has also edited An Anthology of Marathi Poetry (1945–1965).

He is also an accomplished translator and has prolifically translated prose and poetry. His most famous translation is of the celebrated 17th century Marathi bhakti poet Tukaram (published as Says Tuka). He has also translated Anubhavamrut by the twelfth century bhakti poet Dnyaneshwar. Film Career He started his professional film career in 1969 and has since made one feature film, about a dozen documentary films, several short films in the cinema format, and about twenty video documentary features. He wrote the scripts of most of his films as well as directed or co-directed them. He also scored the music for some of them.

Awards and Honors He worked as an honorary editor of the quarterly New Quest, a journal of participative inquiry, Mumbai. Among Chitre’s honours and awards are several l Maharashtra State Awards, the Prix Special du Jury for his film Godam at the Festival des Trois Continents at Nantes in France in 1984, the Ministry of Human Resource Development’s Emeritua Fellowship, the University of Iowa’s International Writing Program Fellowship, the Indira Gandhi Fellowship, the Villa Waldberta Fellowship for residence given by the city of Munich, Bavaria, Germany and so forth. He was D. A. A. D. German Academic Exchange) Fellow and Writer-in-Residence at the Universities of Heidelberg and Bamberg in Germany in 1991–92. He was Director of Vagarth, Bharat Bhavan Bhopal and the convenor-director of Valmiki World Poetry Festival ( New Delhi,1985) and International Symposium of Poets ( Bhopal, 1985), a Keynote Speaker at the World Poetry Congress in Maebashi, Japan (1996) and at the Ninth International Conference on Maharashtra at Saint Paul, Minnesota, USA in 2001 and Member of the International Jury at the recent Literature festival Berlin, 2001. He was member of a three-writer delegation ( along with Nirmal Verma and U. R.

Ananthamurthy) to the Soviet Union (Russia, Ukraine, and Georgia), Hungary, the Federal Republic of Germany and France in the spring and summer of 1980 and to the Frankfurter Buchmesse in Frankfurt, Germany in 1986; he has given readings, lectures, talks, participated in seminars and symposia, and conducted workshops in creative writing and literary translation in Iowa City, Chicago, Tempe, Paris, London, Weimar, Saint Petersburg, Berlin, Frankfurt, Konstanz, Heidelberg, Bamberg, Tubingen, Northfield, Saint-Paul/Minneapolis, New Delhi, Bhopal, Mumbai, Kochi, Vadodara, Kolhapur, Aurangabad, Pune, Maebashi, and Dhule among other places.

He travelled widely in Asia, Africa, Europe, and North America as well as in the interiors of India; been on the visiting faculty of many universities and institutions, a consultant to projects. He was the Honorary President of the Sonthhheimer Cultural Association, of which he was also a Founder-Trustee. Death After a long bout with cancer, Dilip Chitre died at his residence in Pune on 10 December 2009. Dilip Chitre: Portrait of an artist

At the ripe young age of 16, Dilip Purushottam Chitre made a decision that would change his life forever. He decided he wanted to live as a poet and artist. It could not have been an easy choice. He admits to vague premonitions of it being difficult, and admits it proved hard at times. And yet, after over fifty years of living that life of poet and artist, he stands by it, refusing to have it any other way. One can’t blame him either. After all, his has been a life gifted with all sorts of revelations.

It has been a colourful life, one spent whole-heartedly in the service of art and literature. His achievements, when strung together casually, boggle the mind. Chitre has — since publishing his first collection of poems, Kavita, in Marathi in 1960 — published a lot in English (Travelling in the Cage, 1980), has had his work translated into Hindi (Pisati ka Burz, 1987), Gujarati (Milton-na Mahaakaavyo, 1970), German (Worte des Tukaram) and Spanish. He has exhibited his own paintings (First One Man Show of Oil

Paintings, 1969); written and directed an award-winning film (Godam, 1984); made a dozen documentary films and scored music for some of them; taken on the mantle of editor for literary magazines (Shabda, 1954-1960); written for India’s most respected publications; influenced a literary movement (the little magazine of the sixties in Marathi); convened poetry festivals; won all kinds of honours; travelled widely across India and abroad; and taught at universities worldwide. So, when he describes his interests on his blog thus — ‘I am a poet and a writer. I paint. I make films. I travel. I make friends. I read. I listen to music.

I reflect. I contemplate. ‘ — it’s hard not to believe him. Born in Baroda in 1938, Chitre soon moved with his family to Mumbai, where he published his first collection of poems. Possibly the most famous of his translations is Says Tuka, a rendition of the work of seventeenth century Marathi bhakti poet Tukaram. It is a translation of abhangs, a form of devotional poetry sung in praise of Vitthal. Chitre’s translation continues to find new readers, surprising and moving them with its simplicity: ‘There is a whole tree within a seed/ And a seed at the end of each tree/ That is how it is between you and me/ One contains the Other. I envy Dilip Chitre for the life he has lead, for his unwavering faith in all he holds dear. He now lives in Pune with his wife, Viju, to whom he has been married for over 45 years. ‘Even in the most civilized societies of the world, poets receive ambivalent treatment,’ he writes. ‘The economic value of what poets do is considered extremely dubious… The most they can hope for during a lifetime is niche audiences scattered far and wide and small publishers crazy enough to publish poetry without any regard to sales. ‘