HENRY LOUIS
VIVIAN DEROZIO - A TRIBUTE
Sumit Talukdar
Recognized at eighteen, even among the select little inner circle of intellectuals who then held sway in Calcutta, as a poet and writer of outstanding ability, Derozio wielded an influence of youthful vigour and protesting voice. Through establishing Young Bengal (1828) he acted as a reformist in enlightening the poor prejudiced Hindu people encircled by medieval darkness and orthodoxy. He was short-lived. He died when twenty two years old (1809-31). But in this very short period of living he was able to turn himself a devoted student of David Hare, a scholar-lecturer of Hindu college and a pioneer of Indo-Anglican literature. In the foreword of ‘Poems of Henry Louis Vivian Derozio, A Forgotten Anglo-Indian Poet’ published by Oxford University Press, R.K.Das-Gupta comments - “H.L.V.Derozio is modern India’s first patriot to give expression to that patriotism in verse, the first to sing of Freedom ‘that lights the altar of the soul with everlasting flame’, the first to contemplate an intellectual renaissance for an ancient civilization through ‘new perceptions’, the first to exalt reason as an instrument of progress".
Though by birth he was a Portuguese, by heart and soul he was a Hindu, in larger sense an Indian who felt pain and his heart bled for the enslaved fellow country-men and fettered Mother India - Neglected, mute and desolate art thou/Like ruined monument on desert plain/Oh! many a hand more worthy far than mine/Once thy harmonious chords to sweetness gave/...../ Those hands are cold - but if thy notes divine/May be by mortal wakened once again/Harp of my country, let me strike the strain (Harp of India). This patriotism and national spirit was indeed unexpected of Derozio, an alien product under British rule. But he was dauntless and committed to Indian nationalism. He realised - Success attends the patriot’s word/That is unsheathed for thee/And glory to the breast that bleeds/Bleeds nobly to be free/Blest be the generous hand that breaks/The chin a tyrant gave/And feeling for degraded man/Gives freedom to the slave (Freedom To The Slave). Even his creative mind was so conscious about the existing social injustice. His beautiful long narrative poem ‘The Fakeer of Jungheera’ is a tragic tale of two lovers - Nuleeni & Fakeer. Here Derozio depicted the triumphant sublimity of Love over all-consuming Death-Of a fair woman, whose all powerful charms / Even death had failed to conquer - her lips seemed/Still parted by sweet breath, as if she dreamed/Of him in her embrace.
His lyrical outpourings and metrical odes speak volumes of personal weals and woes. He is essentially a romantic poet. Like an exalted youth he always tries to be playful and happy - Like birds from land to land we’ll range/And with our sweet sitar/Our hearts the same, though world may change / We’ll live and love, Dildar (Song of the Hindustanee Minstrel). About love he has mixed feelings - Aye - this is love - a thing of fears/And doubts and hopes and sighs and tears / A feverish feeling of the heart / A pain with which we’re loath to part/A shadow in life’s fleeting dream/A darksome cloud, a morning beam! (Ada). Despite being a romantic idealist, a jubilant singer of love; Derozio suffers from an eternal note of sadness. He questions - But What’s red wine or moonbeam white/If thee I meet not there? (An Invitation). He is always haunted by death. He invocates death - ‘Death! my best friend’. (Sonnet). A melancholic tone either hidden or exposed prevails in almost all the poems. He describes his melancholy so profoundly - And earth the mask of darkness from her face/Flings off - then must I wake to grief and pain/And suffer ills - until thou com’st again (To Night). Even his own elegy is so pathetic - There nothing over him but the heavens shall weep/There never pilgrim at his shrine shall bend/But holy stars alone their nightly vigils keep (The Poet’s Grave).
Certainly Derozio was a great poet, a genius. But he is least remembered at present. It will not be exaggerated at all if we consider him Father of Indo-Anglican literature. His superb lyrical outpourings and metrical odes gave rise to a Romantic Movement, A Renaissance in Bengal. He loved Mother India, became the true patriotic son of India. He breathed his last in this sacred soil with a deep sigh - “There, all in silence, let him sleep his sleep!”