Poems of Santosh Alex in English translation
Summer
For me,
Summer is a journey,
back from the cacophony of a city
to the serenity of a small hamlet
Strung to unknown bonds,
roaming around in abandon
through paddy-fields and barren playgrounds,
frolicking in the pond and
swaying atop guava and tamarind trees,
the days go by
Soon that I realise,
the value of these bonds,
the city summons me back
Dictionary
As I put my pen to paper
words went and hid somewhere
I left them to their will
I saw one in the morning newspaper,
a few on the satellite channels
and some in contemporary magazines
They just slipped away
as I tried catching them
In the evening,
as I sat to tutor the children,
words peeked out of the dictionary
donned in new meanings
and mannerisms
Ark
Returning on the wings
of the southerly winds
I crossed the small rivulet,
swaying paddy fields,
vast barren grounds,
secluded walkways,
and the nameless hillock
Time flew by,
catching dragonflies,
collecting abrus seeds,
tasting mango kernels
and Jackfruit flaps
and so did another vacation
When I opened my eyes,
I was atop Noah’s ark
Offence
Oh! How I wish to hear
the Koel’s voice
the harvest songs
the Boatmans ballads
the music of the river
the humming of the bees
the rustle of bamboos
Oh! How I wish I could travel
atop the westerly and easterly winds
Hearing a commotion
when I came out
I saw the koel, farmers
Boatmen, river, bees, bamboo
the westerly and easterly winds
being taken in hand-cuffs
charged of noise pollution
Distance
As the pain in my hand
became unbearable
I measured the distance
between eyes and tears
wings and their flaps
earth and its chasm
things and their shadows
waves and the ocean
cattle and their ropes
I am still unable to measure
the distance between
my hand and its pain
Gandhi
Gandhi
He is once again in news
The young recognize
a smiling Gandhi
on the currency notes
For them, he is
merely a piece of paper
Publishers remember
his experiments with truth
For them, he is
merely a book
Politicians unveil
his statutes at every nook
For them, he is
but merely an occasion
Then there are
seminars
awards
and Universities
to his name
But my friend,
have you seen the Gandhi
that I knew?
Eight Annas
Shopping for vegetables
I got an eight-anna
in change
It is an eight-anna
that Amma had given me
as a hand-out
on Vishu
and I recall how I then sprinted out
to buy sweet-meat
Today,
even beggars don’t accept it
and the grocers and chemists
have replaced it with a toffee
No, I shall not part with it
For I know it’s real worth
Black
Once
all colours got together
Red
Blue
Green
Yellow
White
Black arrived late,
but in its hurriedness
it collided with others
and then, no one
could make out each other
Retribution
He prayed
did charity
shared the grief of others
Fed the hungry
clothed the naked
quenched the thirst of parched throats
When the pearly gates were thrown open
with much fanfare
all expect him
were bodily accepted in heaven
Abandoned Well
(When I saw the Jallianwala Bagh)
Alongwith friends
as I made my way in
a roofless podium did I see
riddled with bullet marks
It is still there, next to it,
an abandoned well
Don’t be amused
This isn’t the well Yousuf was cast in
Yousuf was lucky that he was alone
As I neared the well
the sound of gunshots and screams
grew louder, unbearable
and I traced my steps back
Old
(When I saw the Dutch Cemetry at Bhimilipattanam)
These graves on the sea shore
tell us of a history
four hundred years old
Through the thickets one sees
only a few small domes
done in granite
On some have developed cracks
some are about to fall
I wonder, what is on the decline
These forgotten graves
or the Archaeological Survey of India
(A Dutch Settlement 15 Kilometres off Visakhapatanam)
Numerology
I used to believe in Astrology
On the second day of February
two thousand and one
at five seconds and four minutes
past three,
the Shuttle Columbia
collapsed in a heap
and thus started my belief
In Numerology
Hand
We sow
We plough
harvest
caress
beat up
and kill
with our hands
We strum
the Sitar
Sarod
and Guitar
With our hands
we draw, paint
write poetry
and sign
with our hands
The hand on your shoulder
need not be friendly
The contract you sign
may be breached
The society admonished
the ones who touched a plough
and the ones who stood amused
Beware of the one
who cons with folded hands
The right hand shouldn’t know
what the left does
My hands? Blemishless.
Prayer
Circumambulations
flower offerings and
appeasements are not needed
Just, a flower
a petal
a word
heartfelt, would do.
Good men
The messiah
and Socrates
were good men,
yet were killed
I don’t wish to be good.
Friends
Happily
those who share
your silence
Presence
The wife announces her presence
as she sets the dinner on table
The toy lying on the sofa
says my son is around
The comb carelessly left on the bed
tells me of the presence of my daughter
Once again, I was late to work
and thus reiterated my presence
Love
Do you love me?
He asked her
Yes
She said
Do you care for me?
She asked
Yes
He replied
Conscious and shy,
they both ran and hid themselves
Translated from Malayalam to English by Vijay Nair
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
