Vinod Kumar Shukla, the 88-year-old recipient of the Jnanpith Award, India’s highest literary honor, is known for his quiet yet powerful literary presence. He is both a poet and a writer whose work reflects a deep sense of clarity and abstraction.
Shukla’s creative process is unique. He thinks visually before shaping his ideas into poetry and prose. In a 2013 interview with Pustak Varta, he shared, “I don’t think in language. Ideas come to me visually. I think visually.” This approach is evident in his poetry, often resembling abstract paintings with layered meanings.
When I first encountered Shukla’s poetry in 2013, I examined it for readability. While substance is essential, the way it is conveyed matters just as much. Poorly structured writing can obscure even the most profound ideas. However, Shukla’s work stood out for its refined expression and visual depth.
Unlike many literary figures who maintain an air of exclusivity, Shukla believes in the universality of writing. He once remarked, “Everybody should write at least one book. There is no person or life about whom something cannot be written. Everyone can write about themselves and others.” This perspective reflects his democratic approach to literature, welcoming all into the world of storytelling.
Shukla’s poetry is subtle yet intellectually engaging. He maintains a light lexical touch while conveying deep meaning. One of his most celebrated works, Hatasha Se Ek Vyakti Baith Gaya Tha (A Man Had Sat Down in Desperation), from the 2002 collection Atrikt Nahin (Nothing Surplus), showcases his empathy and poetic brilliance.
Kumar Vikram translated the poem into English in 2008 for Poetry International:
A man had sat down in desperation
I did not know the man
But I knew the desperation
So I went to him
And extended my hand
Holding my hand, he rose
He did not know me
But he knew the extending of my hand
We walked together
We did not know each other
But we knew walking together.
This poem highlights the power of human connection. It shows that understanding emotions can bridge gaps between strangers. Shukla’s writing often carries this essence—minimalist in style but rich in meaning.
Unlike poets who use elaborate language, Shukla avoids grandiosity. He focuses on simplicity, allowing his words to resonate deeply. However, the depth of his ideas makes his work anything but simple.
In his interview with Pustak Varta, he discussed the difference between writing prose and poetry:
“To begin writing prose is natural, but later it becomes as difficult as poetry. Writing poetry is difficult in the beginning, but later it becomes as natural as prose.”
Shukla’s poetry may not always have immediate popular appeal. It requires patience, much like an acquired taste. But once understood, it leaves a lasting impact, revealing new layers with each reading.
In one of his poems, he beautifully expresses a simple yet profound thought:
Sitting in the bus, I wish
that there were trees on both sides of the road.
In my room
I have hung a picture of an entire forest.
These lines capture his ability to blend the ordinary with the extraordinary. Through minimal words, he paints vivid emotions, making everyday experiences deeply poetic.
Shukla’s work continues to inspire, reminding readers of the beauty in simplicity and the power of quiet reflection.
Related topics: