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Uttarakhand News Network

AUGUST 2001:

THE Delhi-based senior journalist, socio-political activist, playwright and poet Suresh Nautiyal has moved to the final of the Poetry.com-sponsored International Open Poetry Contest. The final competition will be held in August 2001. Besides, Nautiyal’s poem has been selected for publication because of its unique perspective and artistic vision. The poem will be published in its publication, Under a Quicksilver Moon, scheduled for publication in winter 2001. “We believe it will add to the importance and appeal of this addition,” says the letter received by the poet.

In his letter to Suresh Nautiyal, Howard Ely, Managing Editor of The International Library of Poetry, said: “After reading and discussing your poem (Albatross), our Selection Committee has certified your poem as a semi-finalist in our International Open Poetry Contest. Your poem will automatically be entered into the final competition held in August 2001.”

As a semi-finalist, Suresh Nautiyal has a chance of winning one of 104 cash or gift prizes, including the $1,000 Grand Prize or even the $10,000 Annual Grand Prize. “In celebration of the unique talent that you have displayed, we also wish to publish your poem in what promises to be one of the most highly sought after collection of poetry we have ever published,” Ely says in his letter to Suresh Nautiyal.

In his note sent to The International Library of Poetry, Nautiyal has said that the poem sent for the contest, Albatross, is a philosophical note on the futility of war. A world is imagined where nobody is left except the stranded war-ships, the parched mosaics, the Albatross and the poet himself.

A strong votary of vegetarianism and compassion towards all life forms on earth, Nautiyal is also involved in the activities of conservation of ecology, play and script writing. Being a believer in creativity, his firm view is that he encounters the creativity most often in his own minds. Wishes peace for the endangered planet earth.

The Poem is as follows:


The drowsy Pacific sank
While the Albatross kept
Flying and rolling
Up and down
Watching the war-ships stranded
Concealing the tales of
Defeat and humiliation

The clay that lay
Beneath the swirling sea
Bears the brunt of
Parched mosaics

There are always
Faces like this
That crumble
On the slightest instance
Of ferocity
I contemplate
This is not the dream
I dreamt