RAJASTHANI POEMS OF INDER SINGH RAJPUROHIT: ENGLISH VERSION BY RAJNI CHHABRA
RAJASTHANI POEMS OF INDER SINGH RAJPUROHIT
GOLDEN DAYS
**************
Around tree
Keep on revolving
Children of younger daughter
Making a noise
Without any reason
Colt of cow, tied with door outside
Is trying to break rope after seeing them
Mother starts singing hymns
Removing thick layer of cream
From curd, which she had left
To set at night
Beckons children to come to her
They come running
To sit in lap of granny
With intention of relishing butter.
Cat sitting nearby
Purrs on seeing butter in their hands
Children get scared on seeing
Teeth of cat
Mother moves bowl of buttermilk
Towards cat, showing her affection
Butter-like soft heart of mother
Lands in my eyes
It is my ill-luck only
That golden days never return
Golden days never return.
WAITING ENDLESSLY
*******************
I keep roaming in vain
Roundabout about that room
In which, my mother used to live
This crazy heart of mine
Is not under my control
Keeps on peeping through
Chinks of the door
Unnecessarily, my ears
Try to listen
Coughing of my mother
My heart is craving
That my mother will call me now.
Now from nowhere is audible
Sweet language like that of mother
Again and again, I return empty-handed
Just as a starving bull
Strikes his head against empty vessel
Devoid of fodder
I, too, strike my head
Mother fed me with morsels so often
Making *Churma with her hands
My belly had its fill, but not my heart
Child hidden inside my heart
Standing near edge of door is still
Searching for mother, waiting endlessly.
* morsel: a dish made by crushing chapatis, mixing sugar and ghee in it.
Thanks, Dr. Inder Singh Rajpurohit for entrusting me with English transversion of your picturesque Rajasthani poems
ReplyDeleteHow sweet memories of legacy of life style in ancient rural household with cows ,cats and buffaloes as part of family members and relishing fresh butter churned out of buttermilk and delicious morsel served by mother to children. The joy of playing on non cemented floors around fruit trees in backyard of home was a special fun, which all is now missing in urban City life styles. True one misses it most now while moving around cubicle concrete homes
ReplyDeleteWonderful comprehensive review of the poem with its rural background. heartily obliged for unique comment, Mallik ji
ReplyDeleteYouth with all its impatience causes us to reflect on what we miss as in Golden you cannot go back, my mother passed 3 years ago. I still hear her voice at times and the smell of her fresh cakes permeates my soul
ReplyDeleteHe speaks to a point through pictures in words
Very insightful as to the love of his mother and memories of childhood he carries
Jud Bowness, Poet from Boston
Heartiest thanks for your comment with innate depth of feelings
ReplyDelete