There is a “postmodernism generator” on the internet. Invented to ridicule the jargon-ridden academic—almost anti-writing—style of some intellectuals in American and European academia, you feed random text into this generator and it throws up the most deceptive garble, dressed up as a research paper. You could only pretend to understand it. I wonder if there exists a mobile phone application that similarly generates poetry with such insouciant ease when nourished with banal statements and everyday conversations. Something that guarantees a mild and rudimentary metre to recreate a visual experience of a poem, rather than an auditory one.
Kapil Sibal, in My World Within, his second book of poems, claims the mobile phone is a “handy instrument for creativity”. For most parts of the collection, what is arranged as poetry are passionate assertions, arraignments and compassionate outbursts. The Union telecom minister has imagined his cell phone to be a three-in-one device: a jukebox, a confession chamber and a witness stand. The QWERTY keyboard has taken the punches whenever he has dropped a coin of emotion and the ‘Talking Tom’ has added an echo that sounds like a chorus.