Vishal Bharadwaj's book Nude, bares his soul through his poetry by giving form to the intangible. This is the first poetry book written by him. The book has 25 ghazals and an equal number of nazms – and they are fine examples of a richly visual and melodiously acoustic journey into the poet’s mind. He is able to share, with no difficulty at all, his feelings about a vast range of subjects – love, loss, grief, joy, life, death, the beauty of nature, the contentment in little moments of joy and even going to the extent of making strong yet valid comments on the socio-political situation of the country. If there is one thing that somewhat tends to mar the joy of reading the book, it has to be the translations. Some of the greatest poets of the world have failed while translating good poetry. In fact, the better the poetry, the more difficult it is to convey the emotion behind it in another language. Vishal Bhardwaj’s Nude, as a matter of fact, is best enjoyed in the language it was originally written in. However, this does not mean that if one does not understand said language, one should not read the book – it’s just that reading the translation would be akin to biting into a fruit that is less juicy than what it could have been.
The salience of any good poetry is the simplicity of its verses as juxtaposed with the depth of the meaning they convey. By that parameter, Bhardwaj’s poetry fares quite well. Consider the simple simile hidden in these lines, in the context of the beautiful comparison it attempts to make:
बचपन में स्कूल की जब