వాకిలి » Nauduri Murthy

A Downy Spear

వాకిలి — Tue, 02 Dec 2014 18:27:32 +0000

Shooting a sweet
Downy spear of a note
Into my anxieties
From the smooth rosy petals
Dabbed in black soil …
A mother sparrow
Darts off towards her baby nestling
Under the yonder umbrage
Picking one more worm by its beak.

On the last trace of tear
Off my eyelash
There bloomed
A thousand rainbows.

Original: Mamatha K (Telugu)
Translated By: Nauduri Murthy
Source: మెత్తని ఈటె

One Relation and Several Realizations.

వాకిలి — Sat, 30 Nov 2013 23:08:31 +0000

You have your logic and I have mine own argument
A strange situation of nobody being politically wrong.

The matter of interest is no longer
Who parted from the other first?
And to expect answers for every question
Is nothing short of madness.

We are inured to disappointments expecting high
We can’t help but live in whimsical imaginations.
Lugging the weights and counting the miles
We stay put still where we have been.

You travel your way, and I exile my own way.
Tragic moments of no one being wrong.

Now the issue remains
Who remained himself intact?
It’s of no consequence now whether
The lessons of life learnt shall rescue or no.

Original: Mohan Rishi
Translated By: Nauduri Murthy

ఒక రిలేషన్, అనేక రియలైజేషన్స్!

నీ లాజిక్ నీదే, నా ఆర్గ్యుమెంట్ నాదే
ఇద్దరమూ తప్పు కాని విచిత్ర సందర్భాలు

ఇక ఆ తర్వాత ఎవర్నుంచి ఎవరు
తప్పుకున్నారన్నది ఒక ప్రశ్న కాదు
అన్నింటికీ సమాధానాలు ఉండాలనుకోవడం
పిచ్చితనం తప్ప మరొకటి కాదు-

ఆశించి భంగపడ్డంలో ఆరితేరినవాళ్ళం
ఆలోచనల్లో తప్ప జీవించలేనోళ్ళం
దూరాల్ని కొలుచుకుంటూ, భారాల్ని మోసుకుంటూ
నిల్చున్న చోటునే నివాసం చేసుకునేవాళ్ళం

నీ ప్రయాణం నీదే, నా ప్రవాసం నాదే
ఇద్దరమూ తప్పు కాని విషాద సమయాలు-

ఇక ఆ తర్వాత ఎవర్నుంచి ఎవరు
కాపాడుకున్నారన్నది తేలాల్సిన విషయం
నేర్చుకున్న పాఠాలు జీవితకాలంలో
అక్కరకొస్తాయో లేదో ఇక్కడ అప్రస్తుతం!

-మోహన్ రుషి

Festival of Rain

వాకిలి — Mon, 30 Sep 2013 18:12:24 +0000

On the bare barren lands…
On the expanse of green rice corns,
Over the roofs of the thatched hovels
And upon temples and glazing marble mansions
Comes down heavily the rain
in streams and currents and torrents

Rain is a demonstration of equality principle
A shuttle of water wool
Stitching the earth and heaven together;
A midwife attending soil’s labour;
A divine leaf-sap restoring vigour
To the greying moribund landscape.

Rain
Is an old primogenitor to both farmer and the farm;
Rain
A delectable spectacle of droplets landing on land
As watery lamps , as its heart bursts out.
Rain
A close pal of children
Who voyage their childhood on paper boats
An ambassador to couples
Trading sweet heart-throbs
Huddling under an umbrella;

Rain ….rain ….rain
Over dust and dirt
Threading and flooding rain
Inhaling the scents of wettish earth;
A Mother cow welcoming the calf capering in the wind
By caressing its back licking with tongues of showers;
A young bride drawing chalky designs
Over the surface of the lake with silvery dust;
A mischievous hammer battering the mountains.

Rain
Streaming down… and spinning down
Like a poem… a folklore…a garden of stars
Like a rainbow!

Come on children!
Out into the open leaving your schools and shrines …
Let us frolic in the carnival of rain!

Come on little sparrows!
Come out of your nests.
Let’s slake our dried up hearts
With droplets skiing down the cornices.
Let’s put our ears to the soft thrum
Of rain drops beating on the blades!

Men and women! Come out!
Liberate yourselves from your concrete cells
Let’s witness the musical extravaganza played on the grasslands
And present our natural selves afresh
Stemming the corruption of our affections.

Translated By: Nauduri Murthy
Original: Tummala Deva Rao (Telugu)

వర్షోత్సవం

బీడు భూములపైన, పచ్చని వరిపైరుల మీద
గడ్డితో కట్టుకున్న పూరి గుడిసెల మీద
పాలరాతి భవంతులపై – దేవాలయాలపై !
ధారలు … ధారలుగా వర్షం

వర్షం ఒక సమతా సూత్రం
భూమిని ఆకాశాన్ని కలిపి కుట్టే నీటి దారాల కండె

మట్టికి పురుడుపోసే మంత్రసాని

వాడిపోతున్న పచ్చదనానికి
వన్నె తెచ్చే పసరు మందు

రైతుకి భూమికి అనాది రక్తసంబంధపు దగ్గరి చుట్టం
గుండెను చింపుకుని నేలమీద నీటి దీపాలుగా వాలుతున్న
కమనీయ దృశ్యం

కాగితపు పడవల మీద బాల్యాన్ని పరిగెత్తించుకునే
చిన్నారుల ఆప్త మిత్రుడు

గొడుక్రింద బసచేసి గుండె బాసలు
విప్పుకుంటున్న జంటలకు
రాయబారి వర్షం
దుమ్ము ధూళి మీద ధారలు … ధారలుగా వర్షం

మట్టి పరిమళాన్ని శ్వాసిస్తూ
లేగదూడ గంతులేసినపుడు చిరుగాలితో స్వాగతం పలికి
చినుకులతో వీపు మీటే కామధేనువు

చెరువు నిటిలో వెండి ముగ్గులు పెట్టే నవ వధువు

కొండలను కరిగించే కొంటె సమ్మెట
వర్షం ధారలు… ధారలుగా
వొక పద్యంలా… జానపదంలా.. చుక్కల వనంలా..
ఇంధ్రధనువులా!

రండి పిల్లలారా!
బడులు వదిలి – గుడులు వదిలి
వర్షోత్సవంలో కేరింతలు కొడుతూ తడిసి తరిద్దాం!!

రండి పిచ్చుకలారా!
గూళ్ళువదిలి
ఎండిపోతున్న గుండెలను
చూరునీళ్లతో తడుకుండాం
పత్రాల మీద పడుతున్న నీటి చప్పుళ్లను
చెవులుపెట్టి విందాం

మనుషులారా రండి!
కాంక్రీటు భవనాల ఖైది చెరను వదిలి
పచ్చిక బీళ్లలో వర్ష సంగీత విభావరి తిలకిద్దాం
వికృతంగా మారుతున్న మనోఃకృతిని
కొత్తగా ఆవిష్కరించుకుండాం!

-తుమ్మల దేవరావు

Kite crowning a tree…

వాకిలి — Sat, 31 Aug 2013 17:57:16 +0000

One must suddenly get lost in the woods
Like a dragonfly… or a centipede…
Or, hang lonely by the tip of a leaf
on the crown of a giant tree…

One must lie suspended between two infinities
Like the all-important God Particle!

Or, vanish into the fog
hovering over the cascading runnel.

In the mealy translucence
One must open up like a Lotus
Or take to wings like a dove
Into the enigmatic ether…

One must glide into the autumnal afternoons
From the dripping torrents of incessant rain…

Like the ant slowly breaking through the cornice
Or, like a flower snuggling silently in its sepals

I long to retire and embrace meditation
Like a kite tangled to the ultimate branch
For a spurt of life, however little or fleeting

When the embarrassing accounts
Of blessings and deprivations
Burrow the heart disconcertingly
I feel like stealing into every little life
…. That was not mine.

Original: Nishigandha (Telugu) – చిటారుకొమ్మన గాలిపటం…
Translation: Nauduri Murthy

In the end…

వాకిలి — Wed, 31 Jul 2013 21:04:30 +0000

Nothing remains in the end!
Even the dreadful snake… that herald of death
Dissolves like a scrawl on water.
Some wild plant peeps out with passion
Breaking through the grave
Sapping the essence of the bod
Only to wither away soon.
Some small dirty cranial bone remains
Wallowing in sun and dust…
Rejected even by a hungry fox.

That’s it! Nothing remains in the end!
Even that ethereal flower of youth
That morphed the captivating carnal expanse
Into an exuberant intoxicating music
Shall have to bite dust
With its hairline fracture on the bone.

The libertine must pack up and depart dejected
Leaving behind the ruins of body- temple
Abhorring the cold flaccid breasts
And the dead loathsome mocking memories

It’s inviolable
For the red-tailed wicky-bird feeding on oil
In the dead of night
To rise up suddenly into flames
And pass into nothingness.

That’s all!
Nothing remains in the end!
Every morning is a teasing promise.
Every morning is a new seven-knot cessation.
Won’t anything remain?
Not exactly.
In the end,
At different times, and in different forms
We remain
In the cycle of birth and death.
We stand … nodding our heads
At the wonders of the Nature
Somewhere amidst flowers of grass
Or in the hollows of hills.
Or walking hurriedly in an ant line
We express our bewilderment
At the heinous acts of humankind.

We remain
In the end…
Eternally.

Original: Vazir Rehman (Telugu)
Translation: Nauduri Murthy

A Friend Indeed

వాకిలి — Thu, 25 Jul 2013 20:03:34 +0000

It flickers last on the long drawn-out list of requirements.
But, it has its settled place in my pocket
Like the stretched string on a Veena.

Drying my eyes and concealing my sighs within its layers,
It takes into its sure sweet hands
The momentous events of my life.
Standing by me in the thick and thin of the day
And never settling comely where it was put
It embraces me dearly
With love and concern
Only to get tarnished in return
With the shades of my sad and solemn moments.

Be it the droning swarm of hovering mirages,
Or the aroma of my fruitless love,
Or the fears and passions erupting out of sudden happenings
Why
It absorbs every single secret of my life into its fold
And waits on me, ever so eagerly
Extending a guileless friendly hand.

When sun is at his singeing best over the crown
It sponges over the perennial springs of sweat
Planting a deep endearing kiss and restores sanity.

At great gatherings, parties and while on travel
It always books me a seat at no cost
And becomes a handy wave of flag at see-offs.
No matter whether I caress it gently spraying scents
Or, wriggle and crumple and cast it off,
It waits a lifetime for my care and attention.
Unmindful of who calls on, it serves as selflessly
And stands out a symbol of love and fraternity.

It’s why I commend:
Present a hanky whomsoever you love.

Original: Smt. Swarajyam Ramakrishna (Telugu)
Translation: Nauduri Murthy

On The Sparrow From My Village

వాకిలి — Thu, 13 Jun 2013 18:26:24 +0000

You little sparrow,
Ha, I could make you out….you are from my village.
That cute little nose and those elfin feathers… betray you.

But then, when I ask you if you have come alone,
Why are you so insolent, taking off without answering me?
As if you only have those dainty feathers?
Reconciling that you might not have noticed me,
I just crossed your way
But, no. You did not give even a cursory look at me.
I don’t know if I had changed with times
Or time had changed me,
You did not recognize me, for sure.

Let me make another trial.
Do you remember the other day
When you hurt your nose gory
Pecking at your own image in the mirror?
Can you recall my chasing you jumping on my feet
And catching you in your flight at last?
And when I left you free far off in the open
You teased me by coming home earlier than me?

Did you forget your taunting me once more
Playing with your mates on the posts
At the Jasmine garden of Booriyyagaru
When I went there to collect a few flowers
On that festive day
In a silk petticoat, salving my feet with saffron
And wearing ankle bells?
Do you remember
Your roaming around the place
When my granny was telling me stories
Picking all the grits thrown at you
By my sister Kamakshi?

Isn’t it you who protected the crop
Weeding out the pests in Ramannatata’s farm?
This is exactly how you dissed at me last time
When I wanted to check up with you
The lore I heard about you.

Though I left that place you stayed behind.
Maybe, you could not find a mate, like me,
to enchant you out to alien lands.
You were even greeting me
Whenever I came home for festival or vacation.
But suddenly, one day, when my brother Venu said,
“Did you hear, sister?
All the sparrows have disappeared suddenly.
They say, they might have been dead?”
I was so sad and depressed.
When I asked for the reason,
Everybody had given some reason or the other.
And, somebody had said it was due to the use of pesticides.
Well, why could you not convince them
That they were redundant so long as you were there?

And now after a long absence
Here in this cold country
In Fall,
You suddenly appeared and delighted me.
Oh! There is a flock around you.
Have you migrated here like me, perchance?
Hey, you are jeering at me in your wont way.
Thank heavens!
Have you recognised me?

Original: Usha Rani
Translation: Nauduri Murthy

For A Catharsis

వాకిలి — Thu, 06 Jun 2013 22:27:01 +0000

Yes
One has to write
At least to apprehend the quietude
After a prolonged battle.
To assert that man is a tree that can blossom
One must write.
Creation is but a translation of the world…
Creation is destruction in the first place…
As one writes
Pen traces plough lines on paper
And the vivacity of life flows from fingers to the letters.
After the writing is completed
The train of sentence whistles off
Hauling bogies of words behind
The sound, however, pervades the surroundings.

One has to write…
Write a letter to the world
Answering the Why’s and What’s…
For a synthesis…
For the sake of a catharsis.
One can write on the sky
Write on the ocean
But
Letters can’t be written on the sky
Letter won’t retain on the sea
Therefore
One must write about an idea expansive as the sky
Write about indigence as deep as the sea
Yes, write
That centuries of harassment
Could not shake the confidence about life,
And
That the drops of sweat on the forehead
Efface the writing over there.
And when write, write
Not on cisterns but on cataracts
Not on leaves but on lives

Yes, write… and write
Write only in words that shall never dry up.
And the eyes that read them
Should absorb the moisture and get moisten’
Must write… Yes write
One must go on writing for life
Till that timeless sentence suddenly strikes…
And in that enduring writing,
Heart should wear down.

Writing and smearing sandal are not akin.
Nobody can stamp out the sense of writing.

Original: Kopparthy (Telugu)
Translation: Nauduri Murthy

Ghalib!

వాకిలి — Fri, 31 May 2013 20:12:44 +0000

Ghalib!

Oceans continue to have high and low tides still
Carpenter Bees continue to hover over flowers
The sky continues to play chameleon at will
Plants still sprouting only after the seed explodes…

Ghalib!

Darkness still puts on that ebony mantle, and for that
The glow-worms lay in wait for the whole day;
No matter how high-rise the building is,
The gentle breeze continues amusing itself with window leaves
There sceptres of monarchy no longer exist
But the spectre of the wretched indigence continues to reign…

Ghalib!

The world continues to regale in your poems
Yet, the inevitable continue to betide lives
Every wall continues to get drenched in rain
And some remedy or the other is available for cold

Ghalib!

The inheritance of your wounds continues to prevail
And on the twigs of roses, prickles continue to shoot,
And entwining brambles, the blooming creepers still survive.
It’s only you that is missing, that’s all! People haven’t changed
And even the Moon continues to exhibit the same old phases

Ghalib!

The cook continues to have the first taste of dish
And only the farmer harvests the crops still,
Religion continues to have good currency
And the watch continues to turn its hands…

Ghalib!

Everything comes out of nothing
And for nothing everything ceases
Darkness continues to lay siege of lamp
And from somewhere, a cuckoo empties its strains…

Ghalib!

Beautiful Cups of wine are churned out continuously
And the garlands of jasmine girdled amidst others
Continue to wither along with others by daybreak

Ghalib!

Even when the front seats are vacant
People still prefer to stand back
To listen to your poetry rendering…
And they continue to search for
What you had searched before…
Yet, they couldn’t find the veritable Truth.

Ghalib!

Darkness to light
And Light into darkness continue to transform
The lone man continues to be alone
And in the absence of eupnoea
Bodies turn to termite colonies.

Original: Gorey Saif Ali (Telugu)
Translation: N S Murty

Telugu Source: Saaranga Ghalib!

Becoming a Rain…

వాకిలి — Thu, 16 May 2013 19:27:00 +0000

Eons have passed
Landscapes have changed
But the nascent smell of the rain
Sinking into the earth has not changed.

How many feelings
Shall it spray
Springing back to life
Memories from the depths of heart!

For once
I long to turn into a cloudlet
And roll over in the dust…

Original: (Telugu) Kondamudi Saikiran Kumar
Translation: Nauduri Murthy