milk & (m)oney: rupi kaur in wellington
words by takuma ohashi (he/him)
vibe: empowered, assured, feminine
rupi kaur first entered my life in 2017. not as a three-dimensional person, but as her words. i can’t quite remember what features instagram had back then, but through some sort of algorithm i came across a poem of hers, curiously written in all lower-case with accompanying pencil art. it was a simple poem, yet powerful.
fast forward to march 2023 and i had a ticket to her live show at the wellington opera house. this was my first live poetry reading, and i suspect it’s quite different from the normal poetry reading experience. kaur started her performance by letting the audience know that we weren’t there to snap our fingers, but to make noise and to shout out our feelings so that she could feed off the energy and connect with us.
the first poem of her show was a hard hitter: ‘depression doesn’t knock’. one of her longer poems, ‘depression doesn’t knock’ describes her experience of depression as an unwelcome guest that snuck up on her, and the process she undertook to try to get better. some of her attempted remedies included the speed dating she went through to find the right fit therapist, the attempted session of meditation, and the exercise she was prescribed but couldn’t comprehend doing. in full narrative-arc style, her poem rounds out with an uplifting string of affirmations that she will “be full of colour one day”.
mid-set, she performed a poem about her experience as a migrant to canada, and the many sacrifices her parents made for her and her siblings. as i listened to her perform it, my mind drifted to memories of two primary school classmates who were from iraq. during bible study on some wednesday mornings at my public school (in hindsight, more than a little problematic), they would leave class and go sit at the library along with any other children whose parents specifically requested their children leave bible studies. my two classmates didn’t deserve to be exiled from their classroom and treated foreign.
in 2022, kaur released an interactive poetry journal healing through words, following three poetry books published in 2014, 2017, and 2020. interestingly, ‘depression doesn’t knock’ was developed from one of her shorter poems in her 2020 book, home body, as part of the process of developing the interactive journal. kaur told the wellington crowd that her first book milk and honey is now the best-selling poetry book of all time, surpassing homer’s odyssey (a fact that this reviewer has yet to verify). her critics may brand her poems “instapoetry”, but none have ever booked out the sydney opera house to read poetry for ninety minutes.
some of her poems, including ‘depression doesn’t knock’, had tears forming in my eyes. others didn’t resonate with me, yet it was interesting to observe how much they resonated with people in the audience. while i only have the highest respect for kaur and her poetry, live poetry shows for this music lover aren’t a substitute for a concert (even if the price tag suggested they could be. i can only wonder what the kurt vile concert that same week was like). nonetheless, rupi kaur has been arguably the most high-profile poet of the 21st century, and she looks like she’s only getting started. i’m excited to see how far and how long her sun (and her flowers) will shine.