The ‘process notes’ pieces were
originally solicited by Maw Shein Win as addendum to her teaching particular
poems and poetry collections for various workshops and classes. This process
note and poetry by Shikha Malaviya are part of her curriculum for her class at
the University of San Francisco in their MFA in Writing Program.
In 2017, I chanced upon a photograph that would alter the course of my writing life for the next five years, resulting in a book of historical persona poetry on India’s first female medical doctor, Anandibai Joshee: A Life in Poems (HarperCollins India, July 2023). At the time, I was researching South Asian American history for a long lyric poem project inspired by the racism I had experienced while growing up in the midwest in the ‘80s. In this project, one of my goals was to confront my childhood bullies with historical facts about immigrants from South Asia, to prove to them that my family was one of many that had come from India to live in the United States over the years. I wanted to render my bullies' words, ‘go back where you came from’, obsolete. I set out to find who was the first woman from India to touch American shores by doing an internet search. Within a few seconds, I found myself staring at a sepia-tinted photograph that left me almost breathless. Three young women stared back at me with intensity and purpose, the leftmost one dressed elegantly in a saree, the middle woman in a kimono, and the rightmost one wearing a headdress of coins. The inscription below the photograph indicated that these three women, Anandibai Joshee, Kei Okami and Sabat Islambooly were doctors who had come to Philadelphia from India, Japan, and Syria in the 19th century and were the first women from their respective countries to study medicine in the United States. As the Indian doctor’s Monalisa-like glance followed me everywhere, I wondered who this woman was and how she got to Philadelphia from India in the 19th century? How did she manage to break the shackles of tradition where women were largely homebound tending to family and manage to cross ‘kala pani,’ those black ocean waters that were considered poisonous/tainted? I literally felt a shiver of acknowledgment, this validation of knowing that there actually had been others before us. I immediately saved the image of the photograph on my laptop, knowing I would return to it and somehow write about it. Little did I know that this very photograph would spur a whole biography in poetry as well as become one of my most challenging poetry prompts.
I had written several poems on Anandibai’s life, before I approached writing a poem based on the very photograph that started it all. I knew this ekphrastic poem had to be in the book, but I didn’t quite know how. Because this photograph was the catalyst, I wanted the poem in response to it to be special. I first thought of approaching it in terms of an invocation and having the poem at the very beginning of the book.
FIRST ATTEMPT/VERSION:
GODDESSES OF THE SERPENT & STAFF: AN INVOCATION
Women’s Medical College of Pennsylvania, 1886 / World Wide Web, 2017
A
triumvirate of another kind
we
circumambulate the world
in a
new century
where
longitude and latitude
collapse
into a tangled web
and we
are surfing high
goddesses
of the serpent and staff
not
Durga Lakshmi Saraswati
but
Joshi Okami Islambooly
stethoscopes
tucked under
a saree
a kimono a headdress of coins
viewing
the modern world with sepia glances
and
like a lottery ticket to the past
you
scratch to see what’s underneath
to see
if the numbers match
what
you’ve won is palimpsest
a story
over a story over a story
you
show me yours, I’ll show you mine
I’m the smallest of them
all
wrapped in six yards of
silk
my kunku a tiny third
eye
consumption hidden behind
a hint of a smile on my
lips
as my eyes follow you
like a Mahratta Mona Lisa
pulling you into my life
turbulent like kala pani
While this wasn’t necessarily a bad poem, I felt it was revealing too much at the beginning and that I was sort of directing what I wanted the readers to feel. A poet friend had told me to add myself into the narrative, my connection to my subject, and this was my clumsy attempt. Not every reader might feel they had won a lottery ticket to the past by looking at this photograph and that these three doctors were goddesses. This first draft felt like I was trying too hard and ultimately, I wanted to focus on the feelings of those who were in the photograph. My voice did not belong here. I felt the pressure of conveying the importance of this photograph and my own feelings and responses were interfering with the creative process. I decided to put writing this poem on hold and revisit it in a few months.
SECOND/THIRD ATTEMPTS:
I had started arranging the other poems of Anandibai’s life I had written chronologically and felt that this poem should be placed chronologically as well. While writing another poem, I started wondering how Anandibai and her other two classmates must have felt while having their photograph taken. Were they the only three international students? My guess was yes. Were they asked to come dressed in their native clothes? Perhaps. Who took the photograph? Surely it must have been a white man as photography was considered a male profession at the time. And if so, what did that imply? I tried writing a poem from the point of view of the white, male photographer and came up with the following lines:
My wife will want to know where such
fine silk is found
I think as I tell them to face the
camera
this triad of doctors, ladies of the
orient, bound by a continent
and yet how different they are
from left to right, a saree, a kimono,
a headdress of coins
three years in Philadelphia and soon
they will don white coats
and is it cold where you come from I
want to ask
And when that didn’t seem
right, I decided first person would be best:
Look straight ahead, the photographer
says
and we do, facing the camera in our
fancy dress
a saree
a kimono a headdress of coins
glad to be rid of our medical
attire
but for this brief hour, where we
pose—
it doesn’t occur to us that we are a
triad
of otherness—India, Tokyo, Syria
who all crossed the same oceans
doctors in training
bound by a common continent
The poem was finally moving in the right
direction, but like the photo, I wanted it to have an immediate impact and what
I had come up with seemed too wordy and explanatory. And also the fact that I
mentioned that they didn’t think of themselves as the other. They surely must
have. It was around this time that I came across Jericho Brown’s powerful book
of poems, The Tradition, and within that the duplex form. I was dazzled
by how this form of poetry, that combined the sonnet, ghazal, and blues, could
provide a framework within 14 lines that embraced the musicality of repetition
with the structure of couplets. As well as brevity. I wondered what would
happen if I used the duplex form for my own poem. The result, below, I am
thrilled to share, is what ended up in the book. I used to be very resistant to
form, but in the writing of this book, I often turned to form because it gave
me a much-needed frame, bringing things into more focus.
FINAL VERSION:
WHEN THEY ASK US TO POSE FOR A PHOTOGRAPH AT THE WOMEN’S MEDICAL COLLEGE RECEPTION
Philadelphia, 1885
Forgive us if we don’t
smile
the ocean’s scent still
on our clothes
still on our clothes the
stench of sea
we, visitors of another
clime
of warmer lands are we
with pride, we wear our
native clothes
silks and jewels we
proudly don
saree, kimono, headdress
of coins
with lyre, sash, a
handheld fan
no scalpel, stethoscope
or degree
three female doctors of
foreign pedigree
playing dress-up for
Western eyes
in our appearance, they
see worlds wild
forgive us if we don’t
smile
From Anandibai Joshee: A Life in Poems, HarperCollins India, 2023.
Shikha Malaviya is a poet, writer, and publisher. Her book of historical persona poetry, Anandibai Joshee: A Life in Poems (HarperCollins, India, 2023) is a unique retelling of the life of India's first female medical doctor and the first Indian woman to study medicine in the United States. Shikha’s previous book of poems, Geography of Tongues, was published to acclaim in 2014. Her poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and featured in Catamaran, PLUME, Prairie Schooner and other fine publications. Shikha has been a featured TEDx speaker and was selected as Poet Laureate of San Ramon, California, 2016. Shikha is co-founder of The (Great) Indian Poetry Collective, a mentorship-model literary press and is currently a Mosaic America Fellow. She lives in the San Francisco Bay area with her family, where she is a poetry mentor, publisher, and workshop facilitator.
Author of Anandibai Joshee: A Life in
Poems
(HarperCollins India, 2023) & Geography of Tongues
Poems & essay
in Commonplace
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Maw Shein Win’s most recent poetry collection is Storage Unit for the Spirit House (Omnidawn) which was nominated for the Northern California Book Award in Poetry, longlisted for the PEN America Open Book Award, and shortlisted for CALIBA’s Golden Poppy Award for Poetry. Win's previous collections include Invisible Gifts (Manic D Press) and two chapbooks: Ruins of a glittering palace (SPA) and Score and Bone (Nomadic Press). Win’s Process Note Series features poets and their process. She is the inaugural poet laureate of El Cerrito, CA and teaches poetry in the MFA Program at the University of San Francisco. Win often collaborates with visual artists, musicians, and other writers and was recently selected as a 2023 YBCA 100 Honoree. Along with Dawn Angelicca Barcelona and Mary Volmer, she is a co-founder of Maker, Mentor, Muse, a new literary community. mawsheinwin.com
