On a desolate night like thisLB.Rangarao

B.Rangarao

On a desolate night like this

On a desolate night like this

When sleep quarrels with my eyes,

Then sits apart sulking in corners,

In the skull beneath my hair

Thoughts embed sharp claws

In the convolutions of my brain.

In the handful of light

Loaned by the flickering lamp

I gleam unobstructed

Or else I too would be here invisible

Like Ralph Ellison’s invisible man.

Trying to shake off my heritage of want

I’m drawn unconsciously to the gods,

The ones my mother nurtured

In their wall-niches.

And those fraudulent gods stand smiling

Like politicians come to gather votes.

And then my night begins to smoulder

Red-hot like burning coals,

And like a doting father released from prison,

There is sunrise in my eyes.

Translated by Priya Adarkar