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Poetry

Only a Shape | Becoming

हा आकाराय | मी निबीड झालो
Oct 26, 2021 | By Mangesh Narayanrao Kale | Translated from Marathi by Sarabjeet Garcha

This hush is now a companion

हा आकाराय

 

हा सन्नाटाय आता सोबत

नि आपण तर काहीच घेतलं नव्हतं

खरं म्हणजे खिसाच नव्हता काही घ्यायला

Only a Shape

 

This hush is now a companion

and we took absolutely nothing with us

in fact the tailor hadn’t even sewn

a pocket in which to carry things

 

the trousers had only the shape of a pocket

and we carried with us

the shape of a banknote

sewn in the shape of a pocket

 

we had an eternal banknote

sewn in the shape of a pocket

that would never be spent

in fact the trousers didn’t have a pocket

 

the tailor sewed

only a shape on the trousers

and inside that shape

hides the shape of a banknote

 

the shape of the note carries

the price of a thing that couldn’t be bought

only the shape of the price

hides within the shape of the note

 

for instance a brand-new bicycle

is parked in the shape of a note

we never bought the thing

let alone rode it

 

only the shape of riding the bicycle

occupies the note and within that shape

hides a handful of happiness

never obtained

 

in the shape of a handful of happiness

we squandered roughly twenty-five years

in truth they slipped

from our hands unwittingly

 

that lost time is only a shape

and we are still standing

on the tired radius of an age

we never reached

 

in reality this is only our shape

tumbling in front of us

 

 

2

Hush alone is a companion

and we have hands and feet with us

if a pair of hands causes

a pair of legs to walk

one can cross a village

 

we didn’t take the village with us

we had beside us only the shape of the village

which the feet trod on unknowingly

until the next village arrived

 

if the shape of a village

is divided by an actual village

does the village eventually remain?

 

which means two villages can have the same name

or they can resemble each other to the last grain

even their shadows can be the same

still the two villages will always differ in some way

 

which means the shirt of this village

will never fit that village

 

 

3

We of course leave

home behind

and for company we have

the search for a new home

 

a house can be large or small

the roof can be thatched

or tiled or of corrugated tin

or beams or concrete

 

the legs of a house

are amputated

right after its birth

that’s why it stays put

 

our feet have met so many houses till now

and how footloose our legs were

and even after constantly begging the house

did we ever find the shape of the house?

 

leaving home we didn’t exactly sob inconsolably

and did our feet ever get stuck at home at the outset?

they must have lingered for two or four years at the most

but our hands were always in a rush to move out

 

two hands or two feet

really need a home

it slips again and again from our hands

and we never arrive there till the very end

 

 

 

 

Becoming

 

I’ve become dense                                            become a forest

become darkness                                              intense

 

I’m breath pure breath                                    a spider

crawling under                                                  the thigh

 

I’m a cramp coming undone                          I’ve become sand

become the slippery path                               of kinship

 

I’m bisecting                                                      the earth’s diameter

my topography                                                  has flattened out

 

I’m a musk deer                                                its eyes closed

I’m the bewitching brightness                       in Sita’s eyes

 

I’m saffron                                                         the strewn musk

of the navel                                                        snowy

 

I’m a colorful patch                                         sewn on trousers

attached                                                             without effort

 

I’m a crab                                                           meditating in a crevice

an untimely heron                                           forlorn

 

I’m a crow                                                          diligent

not even touching                                            the rice ball

 

 

 

 


“हा आकाराय” and “मी निबीड झालो” from नाळ तुटल्या प्रथम पुरुषाचे दृष्टान्त. Delhi NCR: Copper Coin, 2020.

Image by Thomas Colligan.

Author
Mangesh Narayanrao Kale

Mangesh Narayanrao Kale is a poet, painter, editor, and art critic. He is the author of five major books of poems in Marathi, including Mayaviye Tahrir (Writing is bewitching), and two books of art criticism. He has won multiple awards, including the Keshavsut Award, Maharashtra Foundation Award (USA), Bhavabhuti Award, and Yashwantrao Chavan Award. He has received three fellowships and his artwork has been exhibited all over India and abroad. He lives in Pune, Maharashtra.

Translator
Sarabjeet Garcha

Sarabjeet Garcha is a poet, editor, and translator. He is the author of four books of poems, as well as a volume each of translated poetry and translated prose. He has translated several American poets into Hindi and several Indian poets into English. He received a Fellowship for Outstanding Artists from the Government of India in 2013 and the International Publishing Fellowship from the British Council in 2022. He is the founder and editorial director of Copper Coin (www.coppercoin.co.in), a multilingual publishing company.