Saturday, April 28, 2018

21st Century Malayalam Poetry @ Indian Literature 2018




The White Shirt

(To Vinayakan, cine actor)

I set out to buy a white shirt.

The man in the shop took out two-three white shirts together and put them down before me.
It’s Rs.1050/- This shirt fits you well.
For this one?
Rs.800/- It’s good, too.
That one?
Rs.450/- All are smashing!

Aren’t there anything costing less? In the range of 150--200?

An odd expression on his face.

Is there?
There is, but…

An odd kind of laughter on his face…
Where is that white shirt?

It’s not here. It’s there. Near that flower shop. In that corner.

There’s some problem with his smile.

What?

Sir, its what the dead wear!

Aha
Because it’s cheaper, those who wear that
Will die before their death?

Will those who were the more expensive white shirts, live even if they are dead?
Will the dead come alive, if they were more and more expensive shirts?

The dead white shirt
And the non-dead white shirt
Hung before me.

Finally, I bought a black shirt.
What’s it’s price?
No. I don’t like to tell you.


Kuzhur Wilson


Translated by: A.J. Thomas.



We have a family tomb. Elder brother bought it for dad. I renovated it when mom slept for the last time. It is pleasant to go there and stay for a while. 

I have never seen dad and mom in bed together. Now, it’s nice to watch them do so. A tranquil feeling. 

If I do not die in a distant land I too will sleep in this tomb. Gives me a nice kick to think so. Also a sick feeling that I cannot be there to watch myself. 

I picked up a candle and lit it on my tomb. Gathered some flowers from the ground and strew them on it. Stuck incense sticks all around, Knelt down before the dead me. 

Then, The familiar ones in the cemetery rose up To ask me when I had come over. Someone from among us got up and left without answering. 

Behold, a girl runs along the alley in front of the cemetery.
Kuzhur Wilson 

Trans by Ra Sh





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