Telugu Velugu

Last week, I saw the sun spewing gold onto the earth's bosom. It was ethereal. This time round, I felt more inclined to express in my mother language.I will not claim any proficiency in it,however.
It felt new and refreshing writing in Telugu, after getting so used to thinking and writing in English. Using a multilingual word processor, means that some traditional letters could not be included.But like Vikram Seth once said, inspiration is rare, so despite all the underlying excuses, I am unashamedly putting it up for all to see.

నీరెన్డ నిగనిగలు ఎన్తటి అన్దమొ
ఆ హరినడిగి తెచ్చిన సిరి కానుకలేమొ
సాయన్కాలపు సుస్వరాలు ఏ పక్షీ పలుకులొ
లేక గోపభామలు పాడిన మొహన రాగమొ
పాప బోసి నవ్వు చూసి మురిసిన
అమ్మ కనుసన్దున కాన్తిలా
విరిసిన్ది గోధూలి వేల
ఈ రవి వర్ణపు వేడుక

Tears Cannot Wet A Barren Land

A little soil, a little sky , a little water cannot become an earth. Putting together the elements will not inspire life. Normality cannot be achieved by perfection.Yet if any of these is found missing the results are jarring.
When the fake encounters by the police in gujarat and various other states came to fore, I felt betrayed by the very elements that constitute the society. Kausar Bi and Sohrabuddin would be lost in the newspaper archives, but the killing of innocents is symptomatic of a larger disease, a more virulent fear. The fear of being buthchered by the one we seek protection from.We neednt have the best laws, the most righteous officers or the most compliant public.What we need is to be humane.
I give vent in verse..........

The night clouds are menacingly low
I can sense their breath
Hitting hard onto my dank cheeks
It smells of a wild wolf.


I hear it howl again
It must be somewhere near
I only draw myself close
If only you were here...


I await your return nervy and strung
Its hard to take alone
The heat of prying eyes
I can hear only hoarse cries


I lisp my morning prayers
In a familiar shudder
The flowers in the garden are trampled away
The ground holds a print of paws freshly laid


Is that sound a howl again?
The wolf in its daytime prowl
Or why ,it is you !
Your footsteps altered and strange


You walk in and say nothing at all
Only put your lips to mine
And pay no notice to my asking eyes
I am left to see blood dripping from your scythe.


9.5.07