🌾 “I Am Still Alive” — If Nagarjun Spoke Today

 An imagined poem in the voice of Vaidyanath Mishra ‘Nagarjun’, the people’s poet of India

There are poets who live through their books, and then there are poets who live through their defiance.
Vaidyanath Mishra, better known as Nagarjun, was one of the latter — a voice that refused to be tamed by authority, ideology, or polite literature.

Born in rural Bihar in 1911, Nagarjun wrote in Hindi and Maithili, giving India some of its most politically charged and socially conscious poetry. He was called Janakavi — the people’s poet — because his words carried the scent of soil and the sting of truth.

If he were alive today, what would he write?
What would the monk-turned-Marxist say about a world of broken farmers, social media protests, and slogans louder than hunger?

Here is an imagined answer — a poem that tries to speak in his voice, his cadence, his moral clarity.

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🌾 Main Abhi Zinda Hoon

(I Am Still Alive)

मैं अब भी ज़िंदा हूँ,
उसी देस में
जहाँ किसान का बेटा अब भी
बीज से ज़्यादा उधार बोता है।

धान की बालियाँ
अब शेयर बाज़ार में खिलती हैं,
और मिट्टी की गंध
अब केवल म्यूज़ियम में मिलती है।

मैंने देखा था –
कभी औरतें गीत गाती थीं
जब खेतों में पानी आता था,
अब वे ऐप पर वीडियो बनाती हैं
ताकि राशन कार्ड न कटे।

मुझे याद है,
एक बार मैंने इंदिरा को ललकारा था,
आज अगर मैं लिखूँ
तो किसे पुकारूँ?
नाम बहुत हैं, पर चेहरा सबका एक-सा है —
एक ही मुस्कान, एक ही झूठ।

भाषा अब विज्ञापन हो गई है,
और सत्य –
वही पुराना, ठिगना मजदूर,
जिसका हक़ कोई नहीं मानता।

मैं अब भी ज़िंदा हूँ,
कविता अब भी भूखी है,
और जनता अब भी भूखी है।
फर्क बस इतना है —
पहले जनता अख़बार पढ़ती थी,
अब जनता मीम्स पढ़ती है।

फिर भी,
जहाँ भी कोई बच्चा
अपनी बोली में सवाल करता है,
जहाँ भी कोई औरत
हँसते हुए मना करती है झुकने से,
वहाँ मैं हूँ।

मैं हूँ —
एक जनकवि,
जिसकी पंक्तियों से अभी भी
बिजली गिरती है खेतों पर।

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✨ English Translation: “I Am Still Alive”

I am still alive —
in the same land
where the farmer’s son still sows
more debt than seed.

The paddy stalks now bloom
on the stock market screens,
and the scent of earth
survives only in museums.

I have seen it —
once, women sang
when water flowed into the fields.
Now they record short videos
so their ration cards aren’t cut off.

I remember —
once I called out Indira by name.
If I were to write today,
whom would I call?
There are many names,
but every face is the same —
the same smile,
the same lie.

Language has turned into an advertisement,
and truth —
that same short, dusty laborer —
still waits for his wage.

I am still alive.
Poetry is still hungry,
and the people are still hungry.
Only one thing has changed —
once, the people read newspapers,
now the people read memes.

And yet,
wherever a child
asks a question in her own tongue,
wherever a woman
laughs and refuses to bow —
there I am.

I am —
a people’s poet,
whose lines still
strike the fields like lightning.

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💬 About the Poem: Writing in Nagarjun’s Spirit

This imagined poem draws upon Nagarjun’s poetic DNA — his mix of biting irony, folk realism, and compassion.
Here’s how it tries to echo his style:

1. Plain Speech, Deep Meaning

Nagarjun’s verse rarely hid behind abstraction. His lines spoke like ordinary people — unadorned, conversational, but loaded with truth.

“The paddy stalks now bloom on the stock market screens” —
a simple image, but it captures the displacement of agriculture by finance.

2. From the Village to the Nation

Even when he wrote of politics, Nagarjun anchored his imagery in fields, soil, and rural life. The modern scenes — memes, ration cards, social media — are today’s versions of the same class struggles he chronicled.

3. Satire and Compassion Together

He could laugh and ache in the same line.

“Language has turned into an advertisement, and truth that same short, dusty laborer” —
is both bitterly funny and profoundly tragic.

4. The Voice of Resistance

The refrain “Main abhi zinda hoon” (“I am still alive”) echoes through the poem like a heartbeat — a declaration of survival and defiance.
It insists that the poet’s spirit cannot die so long as people question, women refuse, and the poor endure.

5. Continuity of the ‘Janakavi’

Nagarjun was never a poet of resignation. His writing urged action — laughter in defiance, anger with purpose.
The final stanza imagines him reborn in every act of courage, in every native tongue that refuses silence.

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Conclusion

If Nagarjun could see today’s India — its contradictions, its muted voices, its persistent hope — he would still write, still fight, still laugh.
The “people’s poet” would not retreat into nostalgia.
He would find poetry in protest, rhythm in resistance, and faith in the soil.

Because the truth is: Nagarjun never really died.
He just keeps returning —
whenever someone dares to speak in their own language.