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Journalism of Courage
I was born when Atal Bihari Vajpayee was the Prime Minister of India. Like many children of my generation, his name floated constantly on the news, in conversations at home, in textbooks. But as a child, I didn’t quite understand his stature. Growing up, I began to realise why he was considered one of the tallest leaders of Indian politics, a statesman who combined dignity with decisiveness.
And yet, the last thing I discovered about him, and perhaps the most beautiful, was that he was also a poet. A man who brought into vogue a heady concoction of politics and poetry, Vajpayee will be remembered equally for both. His statesmanship may have defined his public image, but his verses revealed the private heart: contemplative, tender, and quietly rebellious.
He often joked about being an aadha shayar (half a poet), but there was nothing incomplete about the power of his words. His poems carried the simplicity of conversation and the gravity of philosophy, weaving together hope, resilience and self-awareness. “Rajneeti ne meri kavya-rasdhara ko avaruddh kiya” (“Politics interrupted the flow of my poetic vein”), he once said. Yet, even in the thick of Parliament debates, his inner poet refused to be silenced.
A stalwart of the Bharatiya Janata Party, Vajpayee died at 93 on August 16, 2018, after a prolonged illness. Decades earlier, in his poem Apne hin man se kuch bolen (“Speak from your own mind”), he had underlined the frailty of the human body:
Prithvi lakho varsh purani, jeevan ek anant kahani;
par tann ki apni seemayen; yadyapi sau shardo ki vani,
itna kafi hai antim dastak par khud darwaza kholen
(“The Earth is millions of years old, life an eternal story; but the body has its limits; though voices of a hundred winters, it is enough that one must open the door on the last knock.”)
He once remarked, “Manushya sau sal jiye ye ashirvad hai, lekin tann ki seema hai” (“Man may live for a hundred years is a blessing, but the body has its limits”).
Whether as editor, poet, or leader, his life was dedicated to the nation. The son of a poet, Vajpayee often said, “Poetry came to me in my cradle.” His sense of nationalism led him to journalism, while his deep connection with the country enriched his poetic voice.
On Aug. 30, 1947, he became editor of Rashtradharma, a magazine carrying the flame of national values. Its first issue carried his verse:
Hindu tan-man, Hindu jeevan, rag-rag Hindu mera parichay
(“Hindu body and mind, Hindu life, every vein of mine is Hindu, that is my identity.”)
In another poem, he expressed duty as devotion:
Main ek bindu, paripoorn sindhu, hai yeh mera Hindu samaj,
mera iska sambandh agar, main vyakti aur yeh hai samaj,
isse maine paaya tan-man, isse maine paaya jeevan,
mera to bas kartavya yahi, kar doon sab kuch isko arpan.
(“I am a drop, it is the ocean, this is my Hindu society. I am the individual, it is the community. From it I received body and mind, from it I received life; my duty is only this—to dedicate everything back to it.”)
For Vajpayee, poetry and politics were not parallel paths but intertwined threads. “He strove to make democracy more practical, fought for truth, and remained committed to justice,” said Kumud Sharma, a professor of Hindi at Delhi University. “His poems gave voice to the pain of a failing democracy while expressing the aspiration for change.”
The voice that defied fear
One of his most quoted poems, Maut Se Than Gayi (A Tryst With Death), reads like a duel with death: “Tu dabe paon, chori-chhipe na aa, Saamne vaar kar, phir mujhe aazma. (Don’t come tiptoeing, playing hide-and-seek: attack me from the front, and then test me.”)
It was pure Vajpayee: courageous without being theatrical, composed without losing bite. This was not a man cowed by mortality, but one who challenged it to meet him in the open. Despite opposition and obstacles, he pursued his goals with balance and conviction. His poetry reflected this determination:
“Badhayein aati hain aayein, ghire pralay ki ghor ghataayein,
Paaon ke neeche angare, sir par barse yadi jwalaayein,
Nij haathon mein hanste hanste, aag lagaakar jalna hoga,
Kadam milakar chalna hoga.
(Challenges come and arrive, surrounded by the dark clouds of disaster; If embers burn under your feet, if flames rain down on your head, With your own hands, laughing, you must set fire and burn;
We must walk together, step by step.”_
As Professor Sharma explains, “Vajpayee was not a man of defeated temperament. He believed that ‘no one can stand with a broken spirit.’ He repeated this in verse: ‘Battles are not won with a defeated mind, nor is the mind won by winning battles.’”
For a leader who saw India through some of its most turbulent years, it is telling that his poetry often chose optimism over despair. In another iconic verse, he urges:
“Bhari dupahari mein andhiyara,
Suraj parchayi se hara,
Antar-tam ka neh nichodein,
Bujhi hui baati sulgaain,
Aao phir se diya jalaain!”
(Darkness at noon, the sun defeated by shadows, and yet, he insists we squeeze embers from our souls to light the lamp again. It is a metaphor that resonates as much in the corridors of power as in the struggles of ordinary life.)
Even at the peak of his career, Vajpayee remained wary of the arrogance that power can breed. In a verse that reads like a prayer, he writes:
“Mujhe itni oonchaai kabhi mat dena,
Gairon ko gale na laga sakoon.”
(Never bless me with such heights that I can’t embrace others.)
In just two lines, he distills what political manuals take volumes to explain: leadership without empathy is no leadership at all.
For Vajpayee, life was about balancing ideals and reality. As a poet, he wove the truth of the present with the lessons of the past and the dreams of the future. Both as poet and journalist, he envisioned India’s tomorrow with creative foresight. His poetry carried within it the will to fight for truth and justice:
“Satya ka sangharsh satta se,
Nyay ladta nirankushata se,
Andhere ne di chunauti hai,
Kiran antim ast hoti hai.
Kintu phir bhi jhoojhne ka pran,
Punh Angad ne badhaya charan,
Praan pran se karenge pratikar.”
(The struggle for truth fights against power, Justice contends with tyranny, Darkness has issued a challenge, The final ray of light fades. Yet still, the spirit to struggle remains, Again, Angad has advanced his steps, With every breath, we will resist.)
His message was simple yet profound, that one must never break from within. Even when power is achieved, humanity should not be lost. He wanted individuals to rise again after setbacks, to remain compassionate, to share in others’ sorrows, and never lose sight of their humanity:
“Admi ko chahiye ki wah joojhe,
Paristhitiyon se lade,
Ek swapn toote to doosra ghade.
Kintu kitna bhi ooncha uthe,
Manushtva ke star se na gire.”
(A person must struggle, Fight against circumstances, If one dream breaks, forge another. No matter how high one rises, Do not fall from the level of humanity)
Professor Sharma says, “The guiding principle of Vajpayee’s life was that one has to balance ideals and realities. His poetic vision connected the present with the thread of the past, while also tying it to the dreams of the future. As a poet and journalist, he used his creative ability to sketch a beautiful map of India’s tomorrow.”
His Do Anubhutiyan (Two Experiences) captures the essence of reinvention: “Geet nahi gaata hoon…” (“I do not sing…”) becomes, later: “Geet naya gaata hoon…” (“I sing a new song…”) For a man whose career spanned decades, it was an apt reminder that one must shed the old and embrace the new, in politics, in art, in life.
His poems expressed both his anguish over a failing democracy and his hope for change. They carried determination and thoughtfulness, often offering new ideals suited to the times: “Haar nahin maanunga, Raar nahin thaanunga. Kaal ke kapaal par, Likhta-mitaata hoon, Geet naya gaata hoon.” (I will not accept defeat, I will not give up the fight. On the forehead of time, I write and erase,
I sing a new song.)
Vajpayee’s literary output was vast, from the widely read Meri Ikyavan Kavitayen (My 51 Poems) to Twenty-One Poems, which introduced his work to English readers. Some poems were written in moments of political exile, others during illness, many during travels. The subjects ranged from the deeply personal to the fervently nationalistic, like the oft-cited: “Hindu tan-man, Hindu jeevan,
Rag-rag Hindu mera parichay.” (Hindu is my body and mind, Hindu is life, Every fiber of me declares I am Hindu.)
For him, identity was not just a political position; it was also a poetic declaration. It is easy to remember Vajpayee for his speeches, his pauses, his wry humour, his thunder in Parliament. But his poetry offers a quieter legacy: one of reflection, humility, and endurance.
He did not write to flatter an audience. His verse was not ornamental but purposeful, simple in language, rich in feeling. It could inspire a rally and comfort a solitary reader with equal force. Collections like Meri Ikyavan Kavitayen (My Fifty-One Poems) ran through multiple editions in just a few years, proving that even in an era crowded with political rhetoric, there was space for sincerity.
Many of his poems have been immortalised in song, Jagjit Singh’s renditions of Kya Khoya Kya Paaya (What Was Lost, What Was Gained) , Lata Mangeshkar’s haunting recital, making his words part of India’s cultural memory.
Professor Sharma says that, “In poetry and journalism alike, Vajpayee preserved traditions while also setting new standards. He was contemplative and determined, yet always gave fresh formulations suited to the spirit of the age.”
On his death anniversary, the temptation is to remember Vajpayee the Prime Minister, the architect of policies, the man at the centre of nuclear tests and peace summits. But perhaps the more enduring image is of Vajpayee the poet: a man who, even when wielding the blunt tools of politics, kept a corner of his life reserved for the delicate art of verse.
In his world, poetry was not an escape from politics, nor was politics an obstacle to poetry. The two fed each other, creating a voice that could be both fierce and tender, strategic and soulful. Today, as the nation pays tribute, it is worth picking up one of his poems. Read it slowly, aloud if you can. You will hear not just a leader speaking to his people, but a poet speaking to himself, and to all of us, about courage, hope, humility, and the stubborn beauty of lighting the lamp again.
(As I See It is a space for bookish reflection, part personal essay and part love letter to the written word.)
