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STRUGGLE

Anwesha Singbal

I love to see
In the mirror,
My own face,
After a shower.
Observing those peaceful, serene facial features,
I feel ecstatic
And extremely happy.
As the day moves on,
The kitchen fumes,
The computer screen,
The sun rays on the way
Attack my facial skin.
It shrivels and scorches,
But nobody interferes
And neither do I.
A few days later,
Even after a shower,
My face
Fears to recognize itself.
And I rush
To the beauty parlour
For a makeover.
The next day,
After a shower,
Once again,
I see it bloom,
And I'm satisfied.
The wheel of the day spins again.
Laughing as it watches
This struggle of mine,
Says my soul, with a smile,
"Oh dear, do show that affection towards me,
Once in a while!"

भाग-दौड़

नहाने के बाद
आईने में
अपना चेहरा देखना
बड़ा अच्छा लगता है मुझे |
देखकर वह
शांत, प्रसन्न चेहरा,
हो जाती हूँ मैं भावविभोर,
खिल उठती हूँ मैं खुशी से |
दिनक्रम शुरू होते ही
चुल्हे के सामने,
संगणक के समक्ष,
धूप में, रास्ते पर
मेरे उस प्रसन्न चेहरे पर
होते रहते हैं हमले कईं अक्सर...
कुम्हला जाता है चेहरा मेरा, झुलस जाता है वह,
उस तरफ मगर
न मैं ध्यान देती हूँ
न ही कोई और...
कुछ दिनों पश्चात्
नहाने के बाद भी
घबरा जाता है चेहरा मेरा
कर देता है इन्कार मुझे पहचानने से |
चल देती हूँ मैं
ब्युटी पार्लर की ओर
करने मॅक ओवर...
अगले दिन नहाने के बाद
फिर एक बार
दिखने लगता है वह प्रसन्न,
मिलती है मुझे थोड़ी-सी राहत,
और फिर शुरू हो जाता है दिनक्रम |
मुझे भाग-दौड़ करते देख,
हँसते हुए,
कहता है मेरा मन,
“किया करो ना कभी-कभार,
मेरा भी ऐसे ही लाड़-प्यार”..

धडपड

न्हायनां फुडें
म्हाका म्हजे तोंड
हारश्यांत पळोवपाक
खूब आवडटा.
ते शांत, प्रसन्न
मुखामळ पळोवन,
हांव म्हज्यांतच मुरगूट्टां,
खोशी जाता.
दीस वता तसो
रांदनी मुखार,
कंप्युटरा मुखार,
वतान, रस्त्यार,
म्हज्या त्या प्रसन्न
तोंडाचेर हल्ले जायत वतात...
ते बावता, करपता,
पूण ताचे वाटेक
हांवय वचना
आनी कोणय...
कांय दिसांनी
न्हाल्या उपरांतय
म्हजे तोंड
म्हाकाच वळखूपाक भियेता.
आनी हांव धांव घेता
ब्युटी पार्लरान
मॅक ऑवर करपाक...
दुसरे दिसा न्हाल्या उपरांत
परत एक फावट
म्हाका ते प्रसन्न दिसता,
हांव धादोशी जाता,
दिसाचे चक्र परत सुरू.
म्हजी धडपड पळोवन,
म्हाका हासून,
म्हजे मन सांगता,
“आगो म्हजीय केन्नाय कर गो,
अशीच लक्तुबाय”..

Translated by Antara Bhide from Kokani to English
BLOODY THIEVES

BLOODY THIEVES

Anwesha Singbal

From the seventh floor
of that building in process of construction,
With excitement in their eyes
And veils upto their foreheads,
The two of them were staring down,
Balancing their cauldrons full of cement.
A few years later, that building
Will be complete and shiney,
Will have diamonds and gold embellished upon.
The tik-tok of boots and high-heeled shoes,
And suits will resonate a modern song.
Those two, might be seen there someday,
Staring at the seventh floor, from their way,
And suddenly, watchman will come, running,
And shoo them away,
Shout aloud a few curses,
And say,
"Bloody thieves!"

चोर कहीं कीं ...

उस आधी-अधूरी
इमारत की सातवीं मंज़िल से
सिर पर घुँगट ओढ़े,
सिमेंट की अढ़िया संभाले
वे दोनों बड़े उत्साह से
देख रही थीं नीचे |
बनकर तैयार होगी
कुछ सालों बाद वह इमारत,
चमकेगी, हिरे-जवाहरातों से दमकेगी
सुनायी देंगीं आवाज़ें टॉक-टॉक बुटों की
और हाई हिल्स की
चलेगा सुट-बूट पहने शोर आधुनिकता का
कभी गलती से भी वे दोनों
पहुँच जायें वहाँ अगर
उस सातवीं मंजिल को
देखने लगें नीचे खड़ी होकर ...
वॉचमेन दौड़ा चला आयेगा
और भगा देगा उन्हें
चार गालियाँ देकर,
कहेगा,
चोर कहीं कीं...

चोर खंयची...

ते अर्दे उबारिल्ले
इमारतीच्या सातव्या माळ्यावेल्यान
माथ्यार पदर घेवन,
शिमीटाच्यो कायली सांबाळत
व्हडा उमेदीन ती दोगांय
सकयल पळयतालीं.
कांय वर्सांनी ती इमारत
पूराय जावन चकचकतली
वज्रां भांगरां शिंगारून लकलकतली
टोक टोक बुटांचे
आनी हाय हिल्सांचे आवाज
सुट बूट मारूंन चलतलो थंय आधूनिकतेचो गाज
ती दोगांय चुकून
पावत थंय केन्नाय घडये
सकयल रावन तेळत तो सातवो माळो
इतल्यान वॉचमेन धांवत येतलो
धांवडायतलो तांकां
चार गाळी मारून,
म्हणटलो,
चोर खंयची...

रचनाकार : अन्वेषा सिंगबाळ (गोवा)
हिन्दी अनुवाद : डॉ. सोनिया सिरसाट (गोवा)
अंग्रेजी अनुवाद : अंतरा भिडे (गोवा)

Translated by Antara Bhide from Kakani
STRUGGLE

Anklets

B B Borkar

That day, under the banyan tree,
As dusk was gathering
With a soft tinkle
Your anklets drew near.

The woods fell silent
The leaves shivered in excitement
The dozing blades of grass
Tenderly aroused

Temple bells rang from afar
The river throat and banks swelled
The shadows burst into fragrance
That very instant

The bliss in the heart
The tears in the eyes
Turned into gems and glowed
Before we knew it
The two of us became one

How long we stood there,
As the tiny baniyan pods
Rained like 'akshata' on us
We crossed several heavens
In that ecstatic state of mind

Today, nothing is left of that
My life is fading to dusk
Yet, even now, all of a sudden
Comes the tinkle of your anklets

As I feel the surge of love,
A lovely thrill overwhelms me
The dreams that I get now
Turn into sleepless nights

Translated into English from Kokani


Cloigíní Bhráisléad Murnáin
Balakrishna Bhagwant Borkar

Ba ar an lá úd a tháinig do chloigíní bhráisléad murnáin
Chugam agus a gcling bhog nach n-imeodh
Amach as an dorchadas athartha
Faoi bhun an chrainn bhainiain.

Thit ciúnas ar na coillte,
Chroith na duilleoga is d’fhan gan chorraí
Pé táimhe a bhí
Ar na seamaidí féir
Dhúisíodar go séimh.

Bhuail cloig an teampaill i gcéin
Mhaolaigh ar ghlugarnach na habhann
Ansin líon an dorchadas dlúth an t-aer
Le cumhracht
Tinte ealaíne na féile ag bláthú os ár gcionn
Lasadh gach póir dínn
Cuma rathúil ag teacht ar gach tuar
Is comhartha is ba neamhghnách gach uile cheann acu.

Lúcháir an tsonais ag éirí chun na scornaí
Arraing an bhróin ag sileadh ón tsúil
Deineadh seoda díobh is thosnaigh ag lonrú
Ba ansin tá a fhios agat
Gan fhios dúinn a d’fhásamar ina chéile mar aon.

Inár seasamh ansin le chéile
Agus caora bainiain anuas orainn
Ina gcith
Iompraíodh sinn go tír na n-iontas sa ré i gcéin
Éilísiam, Tír na nÓg.

Níl aon chuid de sin fágtha inniu
Tá mo shaol féin ag druidim chun deiridh
Ach ina dhiaidh sin is uile, go tobann
Cloisim na cloigíní bhráisléad murnáin.

Anois féin, braithim brúcht an ghrá
A chuireann freanga mhilis orm
Agus fiú anois dúisíonn an bhrionglóid mé.

Translated by Gabriel Rosenstock into Irish from English

Short poem

Madhav Borkar

I went on collecting
In my hollow hands
The darkness along my way
To offer it to the light.

Translated by Gabriel Rosenstock into Irish from English

He Is A Poet

Shankar Ramani

He is a poet, solitary and lonely
Through the window of his ramshackle house
He watches the sky, day and night.
He is totally crazy
Don't call him closer
Nor talk to him;
Don't even look at him;
You never know
when he would throw
On your body
A basketful of pebbles
But if and when his window
Turns into blue sky
The birds from across the horizon
Beckon him to the ethereal light.

Translated by Gabriel Rosenstock into Irish from English

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