The Dream of the Geleyara Gumpu

BY Prof. V. K. GOKAK, M.A.

(The Fergusson College, Poona)

I

When the esteemed Editor of the Triveni wrote to me inviting an article on the ‘Geleyara Gumpu’ (The Group of Friends), of which I happen to be a member, I thought a good deal over the subject. What had the Gumpu done to receive this attention at the hands of the learned Editor? Then it was that a light began to play upon my memory. The Gumpu had stepped in at a very crucial moment in the life of renascent Karnatak. It had been producing much good work in various directions ever since 1922. It was largely responsible for implanting a deep love in the young men of Northern Karnatak for a study of the culture and the literature of the Kannadigas. It won its first literary recognition in the Sahitya Sammelan held at Bijapur in 1923. The Swadharma, a journal conducted by the Gumpu for two years, had helped to make the public familiar with the methods and the materials of Gumpian literary work. The Gumpu had then shouldered the responsibilities of the Jaya Karnataka, the premier monthly of the province. It was through this journal and its Granthamala (series) that the Gumpu had effected the celebrated revival of the folk-songs and the ballads of Karnatak. The Utsavas (festivals) some of which are now celebrated all over the province–the Mahanavami Utsava, Pampotsava, Vidyaranyotsava and Shanta Kavi Tithi–were first set going by the Gumpu. And some of them had very often to be held with the Gumpians themselves as the speakers and the audience.

Another fascinating feature had been that the members of the Gumpu came from all parts of Karnatak. Dharwar was the centre of its activities. But Bijapur had been holding out prospects of another Gumpian centre and there were members from Mysore and Hyderabad. The first large batch to set the precedent of joining Shantiniketan from Northern Karnatak was that of four Gumpians. A collection of the poems of Gumpians had been submitted to the committee vested with the power of awarding the prize at a competition held at Anantapur as early as 1924. And when Hakki Harutide was published, it contained specimens of the work of nearly twenty-six Gumpian poets.

Some of the senior members of the Gumpu have gained wide literary recognition. Mr. Bendre, the president of the Poets’ Conference held at Mysore in 1930, is one of the foremost poets of renascent Karnatak. Mr. Sali is another poet of distinct abilities. The stories of ‘Anandakanda’ (also a poet of recognised merit) and Krishnakumar have found a very warm approval in all parts of Karnatak, Nor need we forget the work of Mr. Konnur, Mr. Khanolkar, Mr. Sangam, the artist of Shantiniketan, Prof. R. S. Mugali and others, in poetry, fiction, and criticism. Channamalla, the poet of Nanna Nalla, has made his own contributions to historical research. And his Madhura Geete lays down some of the vital articles of the Gumpian faith.

It was natural, then, that the Gumpu should soon become an object of curiosity and inquiry with the public of Karnatak. The provocative nature of the group constitution Intensified this curiosity. It had no constitution whatsoever. It was an unregistered and unorganised body of friends trying to live together in the light of their ideal. Some persons desirous of joining the Gumpu wanted to know the entrance fees for their enlistment. The Gumpu had never dreamt of entrance fees. The name it had assumed was the name of the ideal which it was trying to realise, individually and collectively. And the persons who were drawn towards it by its literary activities were left looking askance at the intangible ideal which it was pursuing. They even found that the number of the Gumpians was itself indeterminate. It was the motto of the Gumpu that even two make a group.

The Gumpu is thus a name of charm and fascination. It fills the air like fragrance, yet is unseen. It has been exercising an unconscious influence, yet is unorganised. ‘Like a glove of civet’, it scents many of the garments you take out of the wardrobe. The Editor, therefore, is certainly justified in seeking to enlighten his readers with regard to the nature and the work of the Gumpu. But I am not at all so certain about my share in the work. I still feel that it is rather inopportune to divulge the truths about a group which is in harness. But one can as well speak out when one knows the full import of the restraint and the liberty of conscience.

(2)

I shall relate a few facts at the outset, not with a view to colour what follows, but to indicate the lines on which a distinct literary phenomenon can be studied. They also serve to give a rough notion of the circumstances which preside over the birth of a new literary movement.

It is a commonplace of literary criticism that literature is the expression of personality. It is also a matter of common acceptance that literature, in its early stages of development, expresses the very soul of a community. But there is another memorable fact about literary production. When the old order in literature yields place to new, the dreams that flush the horizon are ushered in, not so much by a master-mind as by a group of literary men working in harmony with one another, They may install one from amongst themselves as a leader. But the group will always be a fraternity. Such a band met once in ‘the low-roofed house of Socrates’, though for no less a purpose than the realisation of Truth. A similar band of seekers rallied round Basava and Allamaprabhu in the Anubhava Mantapa in twelfth century Karnatak. But we are concerned with groups which have purely literary ideals. We immediately call to mind the university wits of the Elizabethan period. They were the first to vindicate the dignity of Elizabethan drama. There was the Lake School in English poetry, concerned with evolving a new type of romantic poetry. Then came the Pre-Raphaelites. And we are living in an age which has witnessed the birth and the progress of a new movement called the "Irish Revival" with Yeats as its spokesman.

Another fact may be noted about these literary coteries. The dream which they cherish is too sweet to last. It lifts its tents silently away. Such a group seems to insist on the incarnation of the spiritual idea of which it is enamoured. But nothing remains of the Socratic circle except its Platonic dialogues. The school of Basava was rather fortunate in leaving behind it, not only a great body of Vachana literature, but also a religious institution. But there was a difference of opinion between Wordsworth and Coleridge, the two inaugurators of the romantic tradition. The Pre-Raphaelites pursued different paths after having started the hare. Disenchantment has overtaken W. B. Yeats.

The Indian Renaissance has, perhaps, witnessed the rise of a number of literary associations allover India. The Geleyara Gumpu has sprung up in Karnatak. My only object in this article is to submit to the reader a brief sketch of the aims and fortunes of the Gumpu.

(3)

Let me remove the possibility of any misconception. I do not wish to insert the Gumpu in that casket of precious movements referred to above. I do not desire to hint at any relationship except the possible one of literary and spiritual indebtedness. The experiment of the Gumpu is not yet over. And the reader is necessarily free to evaluate the results as he likes. Secondly, I do not mean to leave the impression that the Gumpu was largely responsible for sponsoring the movement. The beginnings were effected in the splendid and unobtrusive manner of the Indian Renaissance. The strands were then deliberately taken up by literary men all over Karnatak along with the senior members ofthe Gumpu. It should also be noted that Northern Karnatak owes much ofher glory to many other eminent literary men: Mr. Golganath, the novelist, Mr. Kuyilgol, Prof. R. V. Jahagirdar, the iconoclastic dramatist, Mr. Kurudi and the like.

But it is certain that, besides the work referred to in the first section, the Gumpu has produced two unique results. One is that it gave the lead to a number of literary associations which are studded all over Karnatak today. The work had, till then, been carried on by public institutions or by private individuals. But the Gumpu opened the eyes of the public to the possibility of a few friends working together, bound to each other, not by institutional and formal but by friendly and informal ties. Literary associations like the Kannadigara kula derive their lineage from the Gumpu. Another is the Gumpian element in modern Kannada literature. It stands by itself and has coloured much of the literary output of the last eight or ten years.

But the question remains: Is this what the Gumpu set out to accomplish? And here we meet again with the ironic ways of Destiny. This is not what the Group mainly meant to do. It had set its hopes on the idea that aspiring men can live together as friends. Two swords cannot rest in the same sheath, so runs a Kannada proverb. The attempt of the Group was to prove that a number of aspiring men, if not swords, could live together as friends. It is only a chance coincidence that most of the Gumpians were interested in the literary and the spiritual regeneration of Karnatak. The fact that the Gumpu embraces in its fold a number of non-literary men, artists, and constructive workers should suffice to prove that, whatever the diverse inclinations, the members were held together by this common ideal of friendship.

In the sublimer moments of the corporate existence of the Gumpu, I make bold to suggest that the dream was Partially realised. But the literary and the institution-building talents of the Group received a slow and unconscious prominence. And the reasons of flesh and blood stood too much in the way to enable us to remove the dream bodily into the region of life.

(4)

It was about the year 1921 that Mr. D. R. Bendre, then working as a teacher in the Victoria High School, Dharwar, made up his mind to experiment with this ideal of friendship. He had long thought about it. He had tried it with men of diverse characters and inclinations. And now he gathered a few friends of a like temperament and habit of life around him and started on his quest.

Another fact struck him vividly. The boys in the school could be the best possible friends. He wrote elsewhere:

"Mine is but a flower's wish,
To leave some seeds behind,"

and the innocence of young minds offered a point of vantage. He inspired in them a similar regard for the language and the literature of Karnatak. He made them interested, like himself, in the spiritual cult of Tagore and Aurobindo. And the talk went on–endless, nectarous talk, talk which could perhaps have no meaning for the public but which, it is hardly enough to say, has shaped the lives and careers of a number of young Gumpians who are making a name for themselves in Kannada literature today. It covered a wide range of topics–from the daffodils to the stars.

It is unnecessary to inquire here into the number and the nature of interlinked friendships which made the Gumpu an integral whole–a chain of ‘linked sweetness long drawn out.’ Suffice it to say that the common desire was to set sail on a sea of talk with Mr. Bendre at the helm. No idea of a colony of friends had ever dawned as yet on the Gumpian mind. They had come together, that was enough. To talk and to live in the light of that talk became the end of life. Men with all sorts of aspirations-literary, spiritual, national, and constructive–were held together by this tie of spontaneous friendship.

The reader will now excuse me for a personal digression, since it will take him into the very heart of the subject. Many aspiring students of the Karnatak College at Dharwar were drawn to Mr. Bendre because of his well-known scholarship, geniality, and acuteness of judgment. Many of them stayed to be his friends, and were glad to be accepted as Gumpians. It was an achievement in those days to be called a Gumpian. Add they only knew afterwards that they had been able to break into the ranks of the Gumpu because of their consanguinity of thought.

I was one of these collegians. It was in 1925 that I joined the Karnatak College as a young matriculate. I had been writing verses in English and had put together quite a good heap of rubbish, with some fine lines lurking here and there. My craving was for light, more light. I approached the professors of my college. But they could not satisfy my craving. I was groping in the dark. Then it was that fortune favoured me.

I was staying with the A–s, long known to me through family friendships. And R. B. A–happened to be a past student of Bendre and also a Gumpian. He was a collegian at that time. My intimacy with him soon ripened into friendship. Our evening walks were strewn with flowers of Gumpian talk. I used to hear much of the literary greatness of the Gumpu at that time. But I never knew that A–was its member. The Gumpian spirit thus began to work on me in an unconscious manner. And A–made me understand myself for the first time in my life.

The youthful literary circles at Dharwar had been, in the meanwhile, ringing with Bendre's praise. I showed my poems to T—, and B–, and they advised me to see Bendre. Many others did so. I was wondering who Bendre was. I saw him once or twice in the streets but I could not speak to him myself. I revealed my intentions to A–. And he took me to Bendre months after my stay at Dharwar, having made sure that my mind was ripe.

It was on a fine evening that we saw him. He was residing in B–'s house. A– introduced me to him and I read out my verses. He listened with patience, even approval. And it was after giving me a full hearing that he began to speak. The discourse lasted for more than three hours. Mrs. Bendre was impatient with long waiting since it was high time for supper. But Bendre's imagination had soared, in his characteristic way, past the kitchens and the meadows, right up to the stars. My soul was suspended in the web of his philosophic talk. And when we rose to depart, I was a changed man. And I feel that my soul will remember that talk long after it has ceased to be a denizen of earth.

This one and the succeeding talks with Mr. Bendre moulded my destiny. I learnt to look at life, not like one who is ‘hurried’ down its stream, but like one who is tempted to brood over its mysteries. I began to write poetry which, for once, could satisfy my soul. I became an acute critic of my own work. And the only other critic whom I fear is Mr. Bendre. I gained that grasp over literary criticism which is essential for academic distinction. And Bendre succeeded in dispelling the charms which verse-writing in English had for me, though it took a long time for him to do so. He made me study and write in my mother-tongue. I am sure that, but for him, my muse would have perished in the deserts of Indo-English verse.

I confess that A– had much to do with all this. A– and myself began as friends. My early life with Mr. Bendre was one of discipleship and it resulted in friendship when I grew up to manhood.

There is another interesting sidelight on this development. I was a graduate by the time the Gumpu had undertaken to conduct the Jaya Karnataka. Taliru, a collection of poems by some young poets of the Maharaja's College, Mysore, had been received for review. Mr. Bendre, with his fine gift for using man-power, asked me to review it. And the result was a long article, followed by other reviews of the same type which have pleased some persons and displeased many. He had found out that I could dabble in criticism and wanted to make the best use of it.

The fact that I was received into the fold by Mr. Bendre, not because I wrote poetry but because I was friends with A–, quickened my development. I came in touch with all the other Gumpians and we were friends. I began to breathe in a freer and wider atmosphere. To be the soul-mate of nearly forty (an indefinite number!) friends, all of whom agree in principles though not in details and spheres of work, is a rare privilege. Small circles came to exist in an informal manner within the Gumpu, and they provided ample scope for a more intense cultivation of friendship. Flecker once remarked that the business of poetry was not to save souls but to make them worthsaving. The Gumpu has, perhaps, saved my soul; it has certainly made it worth saving.

I have reluctantly disclosed this chapter from my personal life because it makes it easier for the reader to gain an insight into the nature of the work accomplished by the Gumpu. I have no doubt but that my friends will bear testimony to the very point which I have been emphasising, provided some allowance is made for the peculiar circumstances of every case.

(5)

But a time came when some aspiring members of the Group became unsatisfied with this fundamental but unorganised stuff of life. They wanted to give a concrete shape to this Utopia of talk and friendship. If our ideal was friendship, why not realise it in its entirety? An effort had to be made in this direction some time or the other. It was thought that the literary and the constructive talents of some of the Gumpians could be used for this purpose. And the affair came to a head with the acceptance of the Jaya Karnataka as a journal conducted by the Gumpu.

A project had been going round, before this came to pass, to transmute these values of talk and friendship into life by investing the property of all the members in one joint effort at starting a colony of friends. This was all the more necessary since the student-members of the group were fast finishing their course and would soon be on the high seas of life. The members of this colony were to support themselves either by starting an ideal secondary school or by conducting a journal. But the main aim was to live together in a big building, to eat together in a common kitchen, and above all, to promote the high ends of that talk and friendship which every one had learnt to regard as his very life. It was not realised because the hard facts of life were too stern to be overcome. A later attempt to convert the Jaya Karnataka into such an institution failed because of similar reasons. And the Gumpu exists today as it began,–an unorganised body of friends scattered far and wide. But its spirit begins to work as soon as two friends come together. And every individual has his new circle, wherever his destiny may have led him. The talk has no doubt, been more dispersed and less multitudinous, since the Gumpians have drifted one way or the other to win their daily bread.

But the members who had a passion for constructive work, have formed small but concrete circles within the Gumpu. The Jaya Karnataka has been a nucleus for some enthusiasts. Others have started the Manohara Granthamala. The Group, it is needless to say, is the ground for these constructive efforts.

(6)

Gumpian friendship has not thus condescended to put on flesh and blood as yet. It will perhaps live on as a dream that eludes the grasp of the seeker, vouchsafing him a glimpse now and then. But its formative influence on the literary members of the Gumpu has been immensely fruitful of results. And their work presents a number of unique traits which may as well be presented here.

It may be said that many of the major literary forms have been cultivated by them, as by some eminent men of letters in Karnatak. Poetry, fiction, the drama, the personal essay, criticism, ‘confessions’ and many other varieties have been included in their range. The poetry of poverty and nationalism and of the beautiful and the terrible has perhaps been presented with a greater passion by Mr. Bendre than by any other poet of Karnatak. In his eager anticipation of a spiritual regeneration, he ever remembers the thorn in the flesh, the red ruin that can overtake a glorious empire like Vijayanagara.

"Grey, rained streets and ruined palaces,
And ruined glory scattered in the dust,–
I saw that home of long-forgotten graces,–
Some food to satisfy Time's heinous lust."

He is a poet of cosmic vision as seen in the poem on the "Bird of Time."

The revival of folk-songs has left an indelible influence on the work of many of the Gumpians, especially Mr. Bendre. In his fine use of the haunting native tunes and of the heart-born language of the people, he deserves to be called the ‘Wizard of the North’ in modern Kannada poetry. It is as if Bishop Percy, after collecting the Reliques, had been inspired by them himself in the manner of Coleridge.

The child-lyrics of ‘Anandakanda’ have also a charm of their own. And they are complementary to Mr. Bendre's Karulina Vachanagalu.

Another special note is struck in the mystical poems of some of the Gumpians. Mr. Bendre worked in this line for some years but his thirst for the concrete could not be imprisoned for long within these walls of dreams. Channamalla of Nanna Nalla is the special practitioner in this line. For those who like it, this kind of poetry has a soulful significance. Abstract meditation may not be able to capture the prismatic colours of the world; but it ever lives in the heart of the white radiance of eternity.

Many of the Gumpian songs of friendship remain unpublished today. Any one outside the fold can hardly be expected to write them. But two of them have left their warm nest,– Channamalla's Madhura Geete and Belgaumkar’s Bhavadevi.

The one hope that goads on many of the Gumpians is well-expressed by Channamalla in the "Kokil of Silence."

"Heav'n and earth together blend;
Man will, and plainly see the things
To which forgetfulness still clings,
And lift the curtain from his eyes,
Which hides from him all mysteries."

It is here that one stumbles upon the truth that an assiduous cultivation of life is more essential than a cultivation of art. The vision of the artist must be supplemented by that of the seeker. The journey is from the palace of art to the mansion of life, and thence to the heaven of mystery. It seems to me that this cry for life, more life, is the core of the Gumpian doctrine. Nanna Nalla and The Sword of Life (Bendre’s Bala Karavala) uphold, in unmistakable accents, the gospel of life.

This is but the Argument that stands at the beginning of a long Canto. In what I have said, I have been as true and as outspoken as Truth. It is up to the reader to be as uncompromising and as unprejudiced as Justice.