THIRUVANANTHAPURAM: In her poetry, she always strove to be the voice of those souls who were themselves deprived, lost, forgotten and weary.
‘Samaanahridaya, ninakkaay padunnen’ (For you like-minded, I sing)
This poetic line penned by Sugathakumari — poet, environmentalist, social activist and one of the most genuine humanists of our times — aptly captures her own life and times. A selfless soul who lived for nature, Sugathakumari has breathed her last. “After spending an entire lifetime writing, I am left with only a handful of poems. With a thousand hands reaching up to me, I am able to hold on only to a few. But I’m sure thousands of trees at faraway places have a place in their hearts for me. I’m content with it.” This was how she herself sought to sum up her poetic life when The New Indian Express had caught up with her as she turned 84 in January 2018.
A poet of deep compassion who penned brilliant works like ‘Ambalamani’ and ‘Rathrimazha’, Sugathakumari would undoubtedly remain in the hearts of many for leading several social struggles, be it the Silent Valley protest, the ‘Krishnavanam’ movement or setting up of the ‘Abhaya’ home.
In her poetry, she always strove to be the voice of those souls who were themselves deprived, lost, forgotten, unloved and weary and yet were capable of ardent love and soulful compassion.
Works like Radhayevide and Krishna Neeyenne Ariyilla capture an unacknowledged, yet eternal and divine love for Krishna. Some of her works gave voice to the lone and fragile cries of the deeply neglected and the destitute, while some others turned into rallying anthems on behalf of Mother Nature. Sugathakumari had time and again warned that nature would retaliate like never before. She loved to quote from T S Eliot’s ‘Hollow Men’ to showcase the rampant destruction of resources, unmindful of the environment:
“This is the way the world ends,
this is the way the world ends,
this is the way the world ends,
not with a bang
but with a whimper.”
The Silent Valley protest played a significant role in shaping her as an environmentalist. It was this movement that led to the formation of the Silent Valley National Park in 1984. The poet was in the forefront of a lengthy agitation to save one of the largest and oldest tropical rainforests in the country. Perhaps, the biggest takeaway from the Silent Valley movement could be the emergence of many other similar eco-conservation movements across the state, including the agitation against the proposed Aranmula airport a few years ago.
Her inner glee often shone through while she narrated to rapt listeners the story of ‘Krishnavanam’ — how she was instrumental in giving a new lease of life to a dried-up forest. On one such occasion, after a long and fruitful interaction with her friends from the Bommiyampadi tribal settlement in Attappadi, Sugathakumari reminisced that at the time she had embarked on that long tiresome journey to nurture a thoroughly dried-up patch, the land had looked parched and the dried-up rivers had seemed like wandering ghosts.
“It was a challenging job with no money and one was not sure whether the plants would thrive. But nature healed herself. If we plant 10,000 saplings, nature herself would plant 30,000 more. If we sowed a hundred seeds, the birds would bring along another 1,000 seeds.”
She established ‘Abhaya’, a home for the destitute in the state capital, braving stiff opposition and criticism from various corners. Speaking to The New Indian Express about her association with Abhaya, she had recalled how she chanced upon some people at the mental hospital a couple of decades ago — an incident that led her to contemplate seriously about setting up a home for the homeless. Since then, Abhaya has become a household name in Kerala for homeless women, the mentally deranged, drug addicts and other social outcasts. Sugathakumari has breathed her last. But as she chose to say, thousands at faraway places will continue to carry her memories forever.