J.V.Pawar
I have become the tide
As the sand soaks up the
water at the shore
So my great sorrow.
How long will it be like
the sand?
How long will it cry out
from its obstinate will to exist?
As a matter of fact, it
should have been in tide like the sea out there
Much would have been gained
by rolling over the drawls around here.
Even the sea has a shore
,why doesn’t my sorrow have limits?
Why didn’t those who
squeezed oil from the sand have any inkling of sorrow?
The wind that blows every
day
That day yelled in my year-
“woman stripped”
‘village boycott”
“man killed”
As it spoke,it gave me a
mantra,”make another Mahad”
My handa now move toward
the weapon on the wall.
I’m now the sea; I soar, I
surge,
I move out to build your
tombs.
The winds,storms,sky,earth
Now are all mine.
In every inch of the rising
struggle
I stand erect.
Translated by Jayant Karve and Eleanor
Zelliot
Translator’s notes: the oil from the sand idiom is from the classical Brahman poet
Waman Pandit and carries the implication that if you try hard enough you
can squeeze oil from the sand.the mantra
refers to the first satyagraha of the Ambedkar movement. That in Mahad in 1928
to drink water from a public reservoir. When that ended in violence , a later
conference in Mahad was called and the portions of the Hindu law book, Manusmriti ,which justify
untouchability were burned.
Such a fentastic poem in imagery
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for making this wonderful poem available. Please publish more Dalit poems. Thank you!
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