What man has made of man' lamented Wordsworth in a poem. Indeed we make fools of ourselves, and others, as the artistic community has witnessed recently with all the bans and protests. Perhaps it occurs not to this lot to direct energy and efforts to promoting positivity rather than fighting negativity.

What, for instance, was done on World Poetry Day? Except for a few scattered readings, including one organised by The Poetry Circle during the last week of April, it went by practically unnoticed. If poetry be food for the soul, surely it needs support. Manuscripts upon manuscripts are piling up as publishers stray away from unsaleable commodities. Literary pages too are being discontinued. Now why couldn't the same torch-bearers of our culture have organised community readings of poetry, commissioned special television programmes or encouraged poets by purchasing books? No. That they will not do. It's easier to clamp down than to prop up. On National Poetry Day in UK, even part ofthe national news is presented by a poet every year. In the US last year, thousands of free copies of T S Eliot's The Waste Land were distributed at post offices. Here, we hear horror stories of our Marathi poets sleeping in bus depots! Perhaps, it's easier to track down M F Husain than a lost poet.

Let's be generous and give them a year. By April 1999, let's see if the powers that be propagate poetry. If sex comedies are destructive surely poetry is uplifting.

Forgotten life

The role of poetry is to express a level of life forgotten by others," stated Hans Plomp, a Dutch poet and India buff. Ironically, the platform he was given to present his work was the PEN All India Centre which has itself become a forgotten place. Often, a mere handful turn up for poetry readings. Interestingly, Plomp lives in an Artist's Colony on the outskirts of Amsterdam. Our Artist Village, planned in Belapur and designed by Charles Correa, is in a state of total disintegration. No artists live there, and builders aremoving in with bungalows and townhouses. I often pass that way it could have been an inspiring setting nestled at the foot of the hills. Of course, Plomp's habitat also faces extinction with power brokers wanting it for other purposes.

Plomp is truly a people's poet, and his effort these days is to try and make poetry more accessible to the youth. His simpler poems, with easy rhymes, have been set to music, and he claims there is a growing interest in poetry among youngsters "who are returning to it for spiritual purposes". His own work reflects a spiritual search. In one of his poems he writes: "I believe in the left wing/ I believe in the right wing/ I believe in wings to fly."

Child's play

This is the time of the year when children's theatre gets a fillip. Meena Naik may not enjoy the same reputation in children's theatre as Sulabha Deshpande, but she is connected and always ready with a piece. Chamatkar Zalach Pahijay based on Roald Dahl's Matilda is relevant in today's upwardly mobilescenario. Parents are more engrossed with TV and careers than with their children. So, naturally, a miracle is called for, and lo and behold, perfect parents emerge. While the little girl, played by Shreya Bugde and the supporting cast give commendable performances, the production suffers from some of the weaknesses found in many children's plays in our midst including clumsy change of sets and lip sync to recorded music and songs. The script, by Ratnakar Matkari, could have been more powerful and he should have allowed the characters to develop fully after the miracle occurs. It ends all too suddenly. All said and done, it's a treat for kids and adults. Working with low budgets and little or no sponsorship, it's a marvel that these plays get produced. Naturally, they would benefit from state support. In the early years of Marathi Theatre, Lokmanya Tilak encouraged it via the Ganesh festival and other social activities. Often, its a matter of creating the right atmosphere for art to flourish rather than usingthe whip!

A living culture

The Summer School at St Xavier's College has been encouraging students to go out in the field and get a taste of culture. Following a poetry reading in which the history of Sindhis and their literature were discussed I was surprised to learn that the students were all geared up to visit far-off places like Ulhasnagar, where many Sindhi's came as refugees. There may not be much affluence there, but you can still hear echoes of the classical poetry of Sufi poets like Shah Latif and Abdul Karin.