Sunday, June 14, 2015

The Eyes and the Story....


My friend Tiku Tikuli, is a versatile blogger and an amazing published poet, and she posted on FB, these photographs of coconuts in various stages.

There is a reason we  look to the "eyes" of the coconuts.  Sometimes they look like 3 eyes, and one of the eyes is supposed to be soft and pierceable, so you can let the coconut water flow, like tears.

 Sometimes , it looks like a face from a century ago, where the tears are all dried out, and all that remains is a helpless suffering , but a stoic face, getting ready to face the world.

Brings back vignettes of what one heard of lives of widows , hundred years ago...

Written in Marathi, and then a translation of sorts  into English....

कोकणातील पावसाळ्यात
कुणा एका नारळी पोफळीच्या बागेतल्या
एका उंच झोका घेणार्या नारळाला

आपल्या आजीनी सांगितलेली
शंभर वर्षा पूर्वीची
गोष्ट आठवते …

एक प्रथम-पुरुष-अनेकवचनी सनातनी
संतप्त शेंडी,
सर्वत्र फिरणारी करडी नझर ,
झेलले जाणारे  औपचारिक शब्द ,
आणि कुणा एका
सुनेवर आणि तिच्या सौभाग्यावर
कोसळलेले आकाश

आठवणींचे दागिने मनात जपत
आलंकृत आयुष्याचा भीषण शेवट ,
एका अंधार्या खोलीत
भेदरलेल्या अवस्थेतेत
वस्तर्याच्या हालचालीत झालेला
केश्सम्भ्हाराचा सत्यनाश ,
आणि
बिथरलेल्या घाबरलेल्या लाल आल्व्णात
गुडाळून सुरु झालेले
बिनप्रकाशी आयुष ….

तो बागेतला नारळ
आपल्या शहाळ्याला आणिकच जवळ
घेतो,
आणि म्हणतो,
"शेंड्या नको आणि डोळे नको,
तू अशीच हिरवी रहा
आणि समुद्राकाठी
लहान मुलां मध्ये आपले माधुर्य
वाटत रहा … "
 Wild windy Kokan Monsoons,
and a tall Coconut Palm
leaning into the wind,
suddenly recalls
a story
told by its grandma
a hundred years ago....

A conservative upper class
raging tempered
proud owner of a "shendi"'
given to declarations
in the royal "We",
keeping a stiff eye
on the proceedings
and a
daughter-in-law,
now husband less
in shocked and wordless fear.

Beautiful memory jewels
safely locked in her mind,
she walks
to her mental destruction
in a dark room,
where a shiny heartless razor
turns into nothing
the only thing
she once called
her own,
her jet black
braided and piled up hair,
a she gets wrapped
in a
red lifeless saree,
and proceeds,
to cover her head
frightened to bits,
the beginnings of a dark life.

The tall Coconut Palm
clutches together safely
the bunch of green coconuts
hanging on,
and says ,
"Not for you
the shendis, the eyes,
and a death in life.
Yours is to
simply spread your nectar
amidst small kids
who come to the beach ....."

2 comments:

  1. Dear Suranga, There is something so touching about the poem. As a person who knows a bit about the windows of that region this made eyes well.It reads beautifully in marathi but the translation is also wonderful. Thank you so much.
    The link you shared may not be visible to the readers as my posts are resticted to friends only. You can share my blog link instead if you wish.
    o/t i lingred on your blog listening to the music. Soulful to say the least.
    Even aai loved it a lot and asked for your blog link. She may stalk it :). Her name is Sushama.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you for the kind words! And yes, I have updated the introduction to link to your blog instead of the FB page. So glad you and your Mom enjoyed the music. Some old songs i enjoy....

      And Sushamatai, welcome to my blog!

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