നന്ദിതയുടെ ഇംഗ്ലീഷ് കവിതകള്‍

നന്ദിതയുടെ കവിതകള്‍ ( ഇംഗ്ലീഷ് ) Compromise A peaceful Co-existence of a human being and ants. It didn’t happen overnight; not in one day. It was a gradual acceptance. The ants had appeared slowly, gradually – ten, twenty, fifty, hundred, thousand……….. They invaded her table, bed cupboardsm window sills, practically the whole of her room. They had the discretion to make it appear s if they were not there at all. But if she picked up some book from her table-there they were, lazily crawling underneath. They lurked silently, peacefully, below the bed sheet, in the crevices between shiny wooden planks-marching single file through the grilles of the window. She had everything to destroy them-disinfectants, moth balls, kerosene. She even tried to find out where they originated from-hoping to squash the origin, instead of squashing them. But……she had to admit defeat. When her brain cells were too tired to fight, she accepted their presence, slowly, gradually. Fighting had mad her weak-mind and body. She now preferred truce-she who used to boast in her youth that she always preferred to fight it out “ I never compromise” She re-heard her young image flaunt her trust in a transcient state of self self sufficiency. She had later learned to sigh; and further later not to sigh. So, without sighing she thought that she was no longer younger. And she accepted the ants. The ants were well-behaved. They never fought with her. They would go about their business in a languid fashion. She sometimes tried to find out what they were up to. She followed them in their march. But they always disappeared into some tiny hole, or a hair line crack on the wall, leaving her totally at a loss. It disturbed her for some mysterious reason she couldn’t fathom. After the trace she realized that the ants were not a problem by themselves. It was all her attitude that had made her consider them troublesome. She remembered that they had never tried to get into her ears or nose when she was fast asleep. She had only imagined that they would. Looking at those sluggish little things, dreamily wandering through the floor, her understanding apologized “Sorry for the misunderstand.” she smiled to herself thinking of what the truce, finally, turned out to be co-existence, understanding. Later she wondered whether she wasn’t trying to smooth over the friend-enemy dichotomy, with the loftiest philosophy of understanding. She kept on wondering, often. And the ants, in their own way, asserted themselves-silently, peacefully. 1998 I want everybody to love me I want everybody to love me Love me more than they love any one else. It’s not very difficult. You only have to put it A little effort. I want to be prima donna Once that is achieved I lean back heavily satisfied. And then it comes Satiety. I feel like running away From that whole lot of fools Who can’t do without me I shout at them That I no longer need them Because I have discovered They are all fragments of my ideal. I have long since ceased nourishing guilt Over my mighty selfish heart I want to give up hope But the hungers of my mind Tempt me into newer mistakes I am fed up of the game And start thinking Stupidity is the only way out I start being stupid And snugly fit myself Along side an image A thousand times removed from reality Nevertheless retirement has its own Advantages. At the sacrificial altar. At the sacrificial altar. I put down reverentially Everything that you are. Parallels. I escape from you Sacrificing myself To get What you cannot give- A God After the appearance of All your belongings That are familiar to me And stop reaching out to me. I want to be Free from memories. Whether it would work out or not Is a totally different question. Sometimes I think I am a fool But my thoughts never free With my emotional needs. Certain tender expressions of the mind Are fragile. Need taking care of. I can’t throw them out of the window Of my third storey apartment. So I try not to resent Doing what I do. Weal or Woe Ah, the bear of solitude. To hell thy clutches sans gratitude Once, thy embrace how did I Yearn But only to remain the picture on the urn While all the world sleeps Ha! the burning candle of my heart Lingering down the mountain sleeps How do you puff and pant When you creep down to ashes The moon of me too diminishes But this qarb of grace, the gift With which you enveloped Gives me the power To remain ever. My mirror has gone mad. My mirror has gone mad. It throws weird images at me In the past It was sensible. Once an angel Once a witch But always One image at a time. No There are silent screams Thrown at my feet Like empty oyster shells. Once I caught A pretty wine glass Before it caught my eye. Later There were faded violets Today I was shocked. It was an egg Fidgeting in blood Like a fish out of water. I swear, it contracted Like a heart. Gory, terrifying It spit out a sperm and died. An empty red plastic bag Horror! I tremble……… Before I collapse I throw my mad mirror Out through the window Down to the streets. I killed it. 1993 The peak of winter The peak of winter Poetry is frozen the world. I dream of blood. Blood dripping from my womb Smearing my dining table Where I treat my guests; Leaving marks on paper bits It evaporates. The faded stain remain. It is warm Stops me from shivering Stops me from freezing But it is still winter And poetry is frozen. I need a hot hand, a touch So hot that it I will burn And set poetry burning. The ice set ablaze Dripping scalding drops Each drop an emerald Priceless. The format of love, An ever-evolving thesis, The touch I wait. 1992 My mornings prick me My mornings prick me Like an unkissed desire. The bloom is the only gloom. I mistake the sunrise, As in a photograph, To a bright sunset. Which ways do I go? Rise with the sun; Or sleep with the Moon? Sleep by the day; Rise by the night; Or both interspersed? Show me a fire Where I can drop my thoughts One by one; And cook my heart No guests. The barbecue is strictly for me Who knows I might wake up with sunrise The next morning 1992 December Earlier there were the roads Earlier there were the roads The wheels rolled with us Clippety-clop, clippety- clop We trotted along. Then we started jogging heavily Later we ran. It was fun, excitement and adventure. Suddenly the roads are no more. The tar melted off the stones The scattered stones swear vengeance. Then there is the shock of a gleaming rail And a whistle of an electric train. We trot along the naked stones Run, faster still, gasp The train runs past us Knees tremble, we stop, stare, freeze. The electric train runs past us. 1992 What is that crack on the face ? What is that crack on the face ? A burrow ? Rather a sneaky trench. You call it a smile?! I know that is amiability. But why don’t your eyes keep quiet? Discipline them Or they get out of control Why not tear them out ? Throw them on the rocks So that they would never sprout. They are to die with this century. Not all flowers are lilies Not all flowers are lilies, indeed the angels of beauty. And remember not all flowers are roses either. The angels wake up\ When the sun goes down, While the roses stand his heat Burning with him. Given the choice Whom would you prefer ? It is not the question of You body and soul. I would advice you To be true to yourself. 1992 Neon bulb with a future Neon bulb with a future Burning on the other side of the road On the street, Cars and bikes sneer at each other. It is going to be war. The few, waiting to cross the road Are totally at a loss. They look at each other The look of a fading forget-me-not. They stay And walk down the street; On this side of the road. 1992 One day One day My ears will rain into your heart, Soaking it, And would flow out Drawing white papers in crimson violet. I will keep on crying Till the husky murmers of the deep violet, Rattling the walls of a million hearts, Answers wordless queries Of awe-stricken fluttering eyes. I wouldn’t stop crying Till the raging sea, Kissing the dampness off my hear, Floats me over in heavy music. One day….. My tears will rain into your heart My being shall be the fuel for your burning eyes. Fire, soft as a lily With its cool breath, Shall melt the frost, settled in my consciousness; And spread over the waters Setting the deep violet flaming, And creeping into the eyes Of the panting multitude Shall soon melt their frozen consciousness. 1992 Defeat me, would you? Defeat me, Would you? One has to rise from the fire And have burning eyes for that Your eyes are not even embers Better forget about that. And lets talk about reconciliation Beliefs wont shelter you. You are not the winner Nor am i. Disguisting, to pine away Letting nobody win. So, when fights take us nowhere Lets talk about reconciliation 1992 It is silence It is silence It is peace Even the sounds suffice. Music in the air, Music in the mind, Music in the eyes You need only to hear. Rushing, searching, screaming Shudders all around Wait! and listen There’s music in the air, In the mind, in the eyes…. The burden must be heavy But doesn’t it caress you? Peace sinks in Music in the eyes Plaintive, overflows. 1991 Why do I feel like crying Why do I feel like crying When tears fail me? What’s the lump in my throat? I try to spit it out each morning But, as a mist gets into me In five different perspectives Is condensed and stuck in me. I hear, see and absorb. Each morning again I wake up With the fire inside me That seldom burns But chokes with its smoke. My heart, you fail. And my mind, you laugh. I am nothing, nobody here. A prisoner to escape bound. Blood boiling in to my eyes; When the hour is come I shall spit my eyes out. Till then I smoke, scatter and dissolve A prisoner to logic bound 1990 How could you plan to die, you fraud How could you plan to die, you fraud Without consulting me ? To beat me ? I wouldn’t forgive you Your heart gave way Little by little I didn’t consent for the last vein To break. It persisted It had my orders. When I was away You spy, you did it! Another worm. With that lingeing grin You shall not burn I won’t have you rise from the fire To burn me. I’ll make a man out of your skeleton- A man with fine bones- Try and flee, if you can Bastard! I’ll have you still. 1991 For My Grandmother For My Grandmother She died young Her mind crippled Grey, skin crumpled, She died young. Fire in her hair Embers her eyes Swaying slides of air….. That unsympathetic morning She tucked a blanket around me. Steadily, no face left The skull gleam And no Hamlet persists……… What is left of the toe I keep as a marker And note down: She died young. 1991 New faces with old eyes New faces with old eyes Slow comprehension defiant. Nerves run out of rhyme And no dying. Deep gaspings. Rutling air Makes only blank eyes. Smell of raw earth Invoke dry fumes Scattered lazily From an extinguished fire. Nothing comes from nothing. Striving alone remains. 1991 Another grim day Another grim day The morning glories Have not opened their eyes. My mild day, digs up your wrath. Not that I blame you my lover, But the open doors tell me Of something I wish….. was left unsaid Anemone flowers Anemone flowers Dripping blood. Don’t touch them! Not even to dig them out. Let’s raise a fire I planted them myself Thinking they were chrysanthemums. Now the green swallows the rain To change the blood of her lover To bloody Anemones, Venus was mistaken. 1991 No more Asters for me No more Asters for me To stink in my flowervase They are better in mud Don’t ask me why I plucked them One simply has to, you see. You look bewildered my friend, Don’t pluck at your guitar so hard It’s your turn now To go plucking Asters. 1991 Those dark heads before me never turn back. Those dark heads before me never turn back. But they reflect the cofusion Revolting in their brain layers. The unknowable weaves collages. Each picture is a question And they gag me……. The incomprehensible creeps into my mind And cataract bulges out of my eyes When the burning darkness envelopes me I lose all notions of time. 1990 Diffidence Diffidence There is a frog in my room Throwing its eyes back It stares at me. My wellwishers, Hm….. They say,He is the Prince of the fairytaleIs he….? His flat face and rolling eyes Makes his slimy presence felt. I kicked him out more than once But he would always come back. I loathe him! Rather I’m afraid of him……. I want to dishearten him And he would gladly call him a fool But his broad chin and closed mouth Shows his contempt.I’m afraid Everything will go wrong……. 1990 It was dripping pearls, from heaven It was dripping pearls, from heaven My mother was groaning. Why ? I wonder. I was with you. Looking into your eyes And finding me there, My heart leapt in ecstasy. Soon the drops fell thick And blurred my,sight Your face faded away. I couldn’t weep But lost my sound And starting losing my way, My life and soul. My mother kept groaning. Her misery- I couldn’t sympathise, But only mope myself And brood over the day In the loss of my self On the past in its way. I’m now lost and forlorn. Mother, she still groan……… 1988 O Night,how rich and fair art thou ! O Night,how rich and fair art thou ! The eye that devours thy beauty Feels his soul crammed with manna. The unpleasant swain in the dark Feels his mother in thee. The song thou whistle past the wind Invites him to lie on thy lap. Thou sings the lullaby, and take him to sleep He dreams of beauty and dreams forever. To inhale the odour of thy abyss To destroy the sense of helplessness, O Night! take me to thy depths; Lull me to sleep And let me sleep forever. -1988 The touch of affection The touch of affection The aching need of what I sought Leaves me out of all the fairs My mask, too fine and serene, My smile ugly,words worthless, The mask is torn to pieces. Still I wear a self conscious laugh Facing the world out of its beauty To frown with disdain.

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