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Yuyutsu Sharma on how writing adds meaning to life

Yuyutsu Sharma on how writing adds meaning to life

Yuyutsu Sharma was born in Punjab, India, in his maternal grandfather’s house. As his grandfather didn’t have any sons, he adopted Sharma as his own. “I grew up under his patronship. He was an English teacher and introduced me to writers like Wordsworth, Hardy, Whitman, and others,” says Sharma. His grandfather wanted him to learn English, and inculcated the idea of leading a good, cultured life.

Sharma’s father, however, showed him a totally different side of life, in the beautiful mountains of Himachal Pradesh, India, where Sharma would spend his summer vacations. His father was influenced by the ‘Naga Sadhus’ (worshippers of Lord Shiva), and the life they lived. He would take Sharma with him to the dens of the holy men.

“One day, during Guru Purnima, my father said he wanted to donate me to the Sadhus. I was in the den, my mother was outside, she wasn’t even allowed to enter the celibate Sadhu’s den. I was about seven years old.” But a sadhu told his father to send him to school. Sharma still wonders how his life would have panned out had he been adopted by the sadhu.

However, from then on, his father would take him to see the sadhus quite regularly. He watched the holy men recite mantras, read the Mahabharata, Ramayana, Gita and learn slokas, which to Sharma were a kind of poetry.

“There was a shrine devoted to serpents in Punjab. My grandfather took me there when I was young and I started to crawl around it, as if possessed. The villagers saw me as a deity but I didn’t want my friends to find out and make fun of me.”

He believes his experience at the shrine as a young boy was a sort of a ‘calling’. He says, “When I read or write poetry, I feel this Goddess erupt through me. I feel a vision, a passion, an ecstasy. Science reduces everything to rationality and poetry does the opposite. My initiation into the spiritual world was very significant. The Goddess knocks at my door sometimes, wakes me up, makes me write, so it’s a passion.”

Sharma shares he has been influenced by American poet David Ray, who passed away this year. “When I was doing my MPhil in Jaipur, I met Ray, a visiting professor. He encouraged me to write poetry. I initially wanted to do theater. He was instrumental in my journey,” says Sharma. Later, Sharma met with several influential poets as well who inspired him further.

Sharma came to Nepal in 1984, to teach at the military campus in Bhimphedi where he stayed for two years. He recalls it being a beautiful, remote valley. Later, he taught at a university in Kathmandu. However, he got tired of teaching. He knew he wanted to be a writer. So he started traveling. His family was upset about him giving up a permanent job and going down an uncertain path. Now, as he travels the world, attends writers’ festivals, he admits that it’s indeed a tricky path. “You need to be determined and passionate, and even then it’s difficult.”

Sharma is inspired by the mountains and is even known as the “Himalayan poet” internationally. “I’m leading a sort of vagabond life. I celebrate the mountains, and all the people I meet during my travels,” he says. Considering himself privileged to get to travel to the Himalayas, as well as all around the world, Sharma remarks that there is a lot of wisdom in the mountains.

He is always conflicted between wanting to stay in the mountains and the obligation to return to the city. Sharma says, “I have children, I have family responsibilities. Poets are also human beings. You can’t just let go of reality, even though you have had a taste of paradise. There are social obligations. Art is beautiful but life is full of responsibilities. The two can complement each other, but art cannot replace life.”

Sharma got his lesson on compassion and hospitality from Nepali people living in the mountains. “The idea of compassion that I saw up in the mountains was unparalleled. They welcome you like long lost friends. They invite you to stay in their houses, and eat with them. Tourists here in Kathmandu, however, are treated like walking ATMs,” he says.

As a freelance writer, Sharma acknowledges that it’s difficult to think creatively all the time. But a saying by American poet Robert Lowell is something he believes in, “In the spring of my life, I write my work. In the winter of my life, I translate.” Sharma is currently translating Gopal Prasad Rimal’s poems.

“After waking up in the morning, I revisit what I wrote the day before, then I start writing in the early hours of the day. I take notes as details are important. They say poetry should have details of journalism, and mystery of romance,” he says. Sharma also talked about how the force of writing comes from fearlessness and breaking taboos. “A soft person can’t be a poet. You have to be fearless, you have to make people shake,” he says. “The role of a writer is to awaken the dead sensibilities in people when societies become dull.”

As someone who has translated works in many languages, has his works translated, and has held workshops in translation in many prestigious centers around the world such as Columbia University and University of Ottawa, Sharma says, “Translation is the art of the impossible. Literal translation of art is never possible. A good translation should not be exact. Only a creative writer can translate the work of another creative writer in the same field.”

Currently, Sharma is working on a memoir, while translating Rimal’s poems. There’s also a novella about his time in Ireland in the works. 

For young, aspiring writers, Sharma has some sound advice. “If you’re truly passionate about something, go for it, but be careful. Learn the craft. Nowadays, there are a lot of online platforms, residencies, scholarships, and fellowships. There is a lot of scope in writing.”

He also stresses on the importance of a book club culture in Nepal. “It’s a cultivation of sensibility. I would encourage youths to start a culture of holding readings in small groups.” 

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