Adil Jussawalla’s sixth book of poems, The Tattooed Teetotaller and other wonders is a charming volume packed with delightful characters.
Contained in 30-odd pages are 27 short and very short poems described as ‘nonsense verse for the young at heart/and a few words for the heartless’. Only three of the 27 poems manage to reach a second page. Of the remaining, many struggle to even get past the upper half of their pages.
One of the important and influential poets of post-Independent India, Jussawalla (who turned 80 last year) published his first collection of poems, Land’s End, way back in 1962, when he was just 22. It was followed by Missing Person, which came out in 1976. Decades later, three anthologies emerged: Trying to Say Goodbye (2011); The Right Kind of Dog (2013); and Shorelines (2020). Trying to Say Goodbye received the Sahitya Akademi Award for 2014. There are many reasons why Jussawalla’s latest work, The Tattooed Teetotaller and other wonders, should not be missed. In this slender anthology, we come face to face with several colourful, curious characters who are busy hatching devious plans, when they are not easing/causing pain or pleasure or both.
Like the unnamed friend who is outside the Tower of London trying to figure out how to steal the Kohinoor. Ghalib, of course, is busy rubbing Tiger Balm on his neck in a circular motion; while (Sir Isaac) Newton thinks that in order to pick a really good apple one must use a ladder.
My favourites, though, belong to the animal kingdom. Unforgettable rats who are, like dictators, strict in their regulations; the ‘brindle cat’ who does something peculiar on a yoga mat; baby gecko found in a kitchen drawer; and those mosquitoes who sing in the ear: once a donor always one! The poet from Bombay reserves his best for the very last: ‘three poets, in the beautiful city of Bomabompum, a bit high on bhang, have no one to stop them from tickling the teats of the tattooed teetotaller!’
Jussawalla’s entertaining book has something for everyone. A quick read. Light on the purse. Easy to traverse…‘till struck by a bolt that had us in splits.’