(translation of Gopalakrishna Adiga’s ನೆನಪುಗಳೆ ಹಾಗೆ)
memories are such;
into the earth seeps the teeming wet of monsoon,
in summer the water shadows across the sky;
the rain shoots through the parched land;
held in the urn the cremated father
returns in every vein.
reawakening rolls up from seat to head;
no other way but to hit the road;
wanderer across generations can’t pick the guise;
only the base remains, interest nought.
roars of reality cuts through the fine sleep,
the sheets drip with sweat to the puppy screams;
dreams of windows opening to cleansing splash;
let the mind reach out to the wind –
there is no forgetting, trees are all you get.
as gut wrenching sometimes:
like the bogeyman snatching from the mother’s embrace
to slam down into the dark abyss.
rain batters outside; my sparing loin is the dinghy
upon the cold flood; reeling in the rut,
the wheel’s ambit shrinks.
the eyes meet but doesn’t look;
the cold hands squeeze
the chest inside; outside the wind’s cold,
as the noose slinging terror strangles,
the voice fails the inner scream – silence.
all those years ago in the town of my birth
where roots run deep;
under the sheets, the ever shrinking dot turns
into a shining crystal;
on the screen unrolls and the
continuous puzzle of infinite moves roll on.
following the births after the rains are more memories;
from thousand pinholes,
subtle forms spread and settle
on the great burrow with the silver screen,
million throws of the seven colours.
burning red pores wait for the rainbearing winds;
gale rain thunder lightening, the flurry,
the maze of life springs from the primordial deluge.
in and out, down and up moves the pulley;
just hands on rudder satiates the mind;
the direction, the path, the way, the decision
are all beyond.