Showing posts with label Maithili. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Maithili. Show all posts

Maithili Translation – Unheard Voices: Trishna Basak

Trishna Basak
To begin at the beginning

 

‘Indian language is one though written in many languages’ – the first part of this famous saying by Dr. Radhakrishnan is debatable but second part is a true fact. India really has many languages and to know each other we need translation.

But like everything, Indian translation practice is also different from west. Unlike the West, classical Indian translation is characterized by loose adaptation and creative re-telling rather than close translation. Translations of Sanskrit texts into vernaculars took the form of critical commentaries, summaries and partial translations (often called Bhashya or Tika). We may remember how Krittibas Ojha’s translation of Valmiki Ramayan became a different text from the original. Krittibas’s Ram became more Bengali than Indian both socially and culturally. As K. Satchidanandan observes, “India’s culture of translation dates back to pre-colonial times that had witnessed several kinds of literary translation, though our ancients may not claim to be doing so. This is perhaps natural to multilingual culture where poets easily moved from one language to another without even being aware of it and translators did not fear being executed for deviations as in the West. We do not even have a proper word for translation in the Indian languages, so we have, at different times, borrowed anuvad (‘speaking after’) from Sanskrit and tarjuma (explication or paraphrase) from Arabic…. Our predecessors used texts as take-off points and freely retold and resituated them, as was done in the case of many Ramayanas, Mahabharatas and Bhagavatas in different languages. … This tendency to transform texts from older languages like Prakrit, Pali, Sanskrit, Tamil or Persian continued almost to the end of the pre-colonial period…..” (Satchidanandan, The Hindu Literary Review).

In the colonial era, the contact with the West transformed the translation scene in India. English scholars like William Jones, MacDonnell, MaxMuller, H.H.Wilson, R.T.H.Griffith, G.A.Jacobs, as also French, German and Italian scholars made classic translations of Indian texts into English and other European languages. With regard to the translation of English or European texts into Indian languages, there were notable examples like Bharatendu’s Hindi translation of Shakespeare, Premchand’s Hindi translation of John Galsworthy’s plays, as also Hindi versions of Alexander Pope, Matthew Arnold and Edward Fitzgerald’s Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Translations amongst different Indian languages were a special feature of the Indian Renaissance and helped build the nation during the freedom struggle.

Bhartendu, Ramakrishna Varma, Gopal Ram Gehamari, Roop Narayan Pandey, Dwijendranath Roy and so many translated Bengali and other native language texts into Hindi. “These translations during the early years of independence and the late colonial period were not profit-oriented; dedicated translators came up in many languages making a Tagore, a Sarat Chandra Chatterjee or a Premchand household names across the country” (Satchidanandan The Hindu Literary Review). Translation of Tagore sometimes led to very queer incidents. Once, one Urdu translator translated Tagore’s poems also while translating his short stories and thus produced almost 30 volumes of short stories of Tagore in Urdu!

The word ‘translation’ consists of two Latin words – trans meaning ‘across’ and lation meaning ‘to take’ (derived from the Latin verb transfero, transfere, translatum). The ancient Greek word for translation was metaphrasis meaning ‘a speaking across’. To put it very simply, translation means transferring or taking across to or expressing in one language what has already been said in another language. Eugene Nida observes, “Translating consists in reproducing in the receptor language the closest natural equivalent of the source-language message, first in terms of meaning and secondly in terms of style”.

 

The endless journey

It was the best of time. It was the worst of time. I left my job as an Engineer and decided to become a fulltime writer. It was not easy. People thought that I must be crazy. Who leaves a permanent government job for the sake of literature, moreover Bengali literature? But my decision was irrevocable. I even wanted to learn an Indian language. People ridiculed that also. everybody wants to learn a foreign language. It is glamorous to learn Spanish, German or French and translate from these languages. But I wanted to learn Asamese or Marathi. But a meeting with Dr Ramkumar Mukhopadhyay changed my decision. He insisted me to learn Maithili as there is almost no translator from Maithili to Bengali.

I remember a poem by Robert Frost-

I took the other path

And that made all the differnce.

As in creative writing, in traslation also I took the less travelled path and that made all the difference.

Nobody was willing to learn Maithili, very few even knew that there was a language called Maithili. Even if someone knows, he/she has hardly heard any name after Vidyapati. My case was no different. I have read some Vidyapati padabali and that was the limit of my Maithili knowledge.

When Ramkumar Mukhopadhyay insisted me to learn Maithili, I nodded vaguely. I had no idea where and how I can learn this language. Never in my life, I have come across this language, nor seen the script. But where angels dare, fools put their steps without hestitation. So I plunged into a deep sea of unknown without thinking for a second. When I was about to leave, it occurred to me that I should at least ask where I should go for learning Maithili? There must be a school where I can take admission and start learning Maithili. No school? Then there must be a 3 or 6 month crash course? nothing? I gradually learnt that there is no such school or course in Kolkata, not just for Maithili, but for any Indian language except Hindi. But there are schools for lerning German, French or Spanish.

Mr Mukhopadhyay, may be touched by my pathetic look, suddenly scribblrd something on a small piece of paper and handed over to me. I found address of some Gauri Sen written on it. Who is this Gauri Sen? I did not dare to ask him in apprehension of a disapponting answer. I saw her phone number written there. I decided to call her in appropriate time and get an appointment.

Back to home, I repented everything. Why should I at all learn Maithili? Why not Marathi or Malayalam if I have to learn a Indian lanugage? At least people know these names. No, I will not call Gauri Sen. What use in learning a language, whose name is not known to people? I did not call Gauri Sen. But after a week, I felt very restless. As if someone is calling me and I was trying not to hear.

So, one rainy noon, I found myself seated in a dimly lit drawing room at Ramlal bazar and waiting for Smt Gauri Sen. She was then the only Maithili translator in Kolkata.

After a few months, I went to Darbhanga, Madhubani and Patna. Darbhanga is a city in the northern part of Bihar, India. A part of Gangetic plains of the north India, Darbhanga is located just around 50 km from Nepal. The city is known for its association with Darbhanga Royal family – one of the richest landowners of the country during British Raj. The city and places around are very active culturally and politically but one of the poorest in India based on almost all social indicators. Darbhanga is considered as the cultural capital of Bihar with its rich musical, folk-art and literary traditions continuing from centuries. Songs written by famous Maithili poet Vidyapati are still sung in Maithili household like Tagore song in Bengal.

Maithili is the language spoken in this part of the world and it’s a member of Indo-European family. Maithili is one of the 22 official national languages of the country and spoken by around 32 million people in Bihar and the Terai region of Nepal. My first encounter with Mithilabhumi was disappointing.Totally misguided, I boarded in a shabby hotel and my heart sank. Rooms were dirty and dark. It was sultry summer of Bihar and to add to the fury, the electricity was rarely available and the hotel authority was not willing to run the generator. It was a boon actually, because I decided to spend most of the time outside the hotel and thus I came closer to Maithili literary circle. In the afternoon, I knocked at the door of Aditya Bhaban. It was the house of famous Maithili poet and fictionist Chandrakant Sing Amar. Amarji welcomed me heartily. There were other luminaries also. It was really a literary meet. We read poems and exchanged our thoughts. I noticed an interctive style of Maithili poetry reading where the audience joins the poet to utter the last line of every stanza. It radiated warmth of the poet-reader bondage which is somehow missing in most of the poetry reading session in Bengal. When I read poems, the senior Maithili writers could understand clearly. They have a long history of reading from Original Bengali, which I came to know later. But young Maithili writers cannot read Bengali as they are reading Maithili in Devnagri script.

 

The lost script

Actually Maithili was written in Tirhutia or Tirhut lipi. Tirhutia is derived from Tirbhukti, which means a certain riverside which has been purified by sacrifice thrice. The name was first found in the currency of Bashad near Vaishali in the fourth century B.C. In the fourth and fifth centuries it was called Mithila or Tirbhukti. This is the mithila where Gargi, a woman scholar asked Jaggavalkya, “Who is controlling the stars?”. Unable to answer her question, Jaggavalkya forgot all the courtesy of a debate and said, “Don’t ask questions Gargi, your head will fall down”

Then there was Sita, the daughter of the soil, who did not compromise with a marriage dishonorable for her. In sathpath Brahman (1000-600) the boundary of Mithila was marked by River Sadanira (other names of which are the Gondak Rapti, Kartaya) which separated Bideha from Koshol . In Vishnupurana, The boundary is defined by Kaushiki in the east, the Gondki in the west, the Ganges in the south and the Himalayas in the north. Not only land, but also language has its own geography, and it has been set by Sir George A. Grierson. In the nineteenth century, He did a tremendous work on Maithili language.

Now, about 30 million people in 26 districts of north-eastern Bihar speak The Maithili language. And 12 percent of the people of neighbouring Nepal. When we remember the language martyrs of East Bengal and Shilchar on Language Day, how many remember Ranju Jha, nepali actress and social activist, who gave her life for the rights of the Mathili language? When Maithili was written in Tihutia script in the past, the Bengali and Mathili languages were very close because of the wonderful similarity of the two scripts. The first literary work in the Mathili language is the ‘Barnaratnakar’ by Jyotiriswar Thakur (1324 AD). After that, it was the poet Vidyapati Thakur (1360-1450 AD). Most of the Bengalis think that Vidyapati is a bengali poet. It is a pity that even though Bengalis are obsessed with Vidyapati, they have almost no idea about the Maithili literary works written after Vidyapati. As far as I know, there are only three books of Maithili poems in bengali translation.

 

Humble attempt

Maithili Sabdokosh and grammar by Dr Govind Jha, two or three sitting with Gouridi and a deep interest to know Maithili Literature, and I was ready to translate from Maithili. I started with Ajit Ajad, a rebel poet, almost my age, whom I met in Patna. I also translated Sahitya Academi winning Usha Kiran Khan’s stories whom I met at Vidyapati Bhaban, Patna. Then I translated Anmol Jha, Chandan Jha and many other writers. And in this 12 years journey (which is called a Yug) I have evolved as a translator, as a writer and also as a person. I have made some findings in this journey.

1 Selection of the author

When one translates from one Indian language to another, just knowing the language is not enough. He or she must know the history of the source language and must be aware of the position and contribution of the author whose works are being translated. Hence the selection of the writer in the source language is very critical in translation.

1.    Cultural position of target language

When translating Ajit Ajad’s poems, I found that Bengali readers could not digest some strong words used by Ajit. In a poem on taboos related to menstruation, Ajit wrote “Champa, defecate and piss on the rituals’ Many Benglai readers, some of them even poets could not accept these lines and asked me to use milder alternatives. But I stuck to my translation.

 

2.    Relevance of the text- Before translating a text we must see if its relevant in target language. The cultural base may be different in the source and target language. Specially, women emancipation, treatment of the underprivileged, caste system are different in different parts of India. A translator has to be aware of all these cultural contexts. Just learning a different language is not enough.

 

I think separate translation theory should be developed for regional languages.

 

Women in translation

 

In Mithila, we have Bhamti who explained Shankaraya’s Bhasya differently and her contribution is acknowledged by naming a part of the puthi as Bhamti Tika. When speaking about the translators from Maithili to Bengali, one can find just two names, both women, late Gauri Sen and me. In other Indian languages also there are a very good number of able women translators- Sarojini Kamtanurkar, Nita Sen Samarth, Bandana Alase Hazra, Madhuchanda Mitra Ghosh (Marathi), Nilina Abraham, Malina Roy, Debirani Ghosh (Malayalam), Pushpa Misra, Kanika Basu, Ishani Hajra, Amiya Rao (Kannad), Sukhalata Rao, Maitri Shukla,Ratna saha, Manjusri Roy, Manjula Chakraborty, Bharati Nandi (Odia), Sandhya Chowdhury, Rama Verma, Susmita Dutta, Maya Gupta, Lipika Saha, Arpita Poddar (Hindi), Mousumi Basu, Pampa Pal (Indian English), Amita Chakraborty, Sukumari Bhattacharyya, Gouri Chattopadhyay (Sanskrit), Shyamali Devi (Manipuri), Bina Misra (Assamese), Sumita Bandopadhyay (Telugu), Jaya Mitra (Rajasthani and Punjabi), Aruna Mukhopadhyay, Sanchari Sen (Urdu), Sebanti Ghosh (Nepali) to name a few. An interesting fact is found about these women translators that most of them have turned into translators after marrying into a family speaking different language. Situation makes them learn a different language and the outcome is beneficial for Indian translation field. In Bengali to English, we have legendary translator like Gayatri Chakravarty Spivak who has translated Mahasweta Devi. It is also found that Women translating women, perhaps can do more justice to the original.

Famous Bengali writer and translator Jaya Mitra once said that essential attributes of a translator are- politeness, flexibility and respect. And all these make a woman suitable for translation. Because the essence of translation is to adapt to a new culture, which women keep on doing all through their life.

Source-

  • Ajad Ajit Kumar. Yuddhk birodh me Buddhak Pratihinsa. Shekhar Prakashan, Patna
  • Jha, Govind. Kalyani Kosh (A Maithili-English dictionary), Maharajadhiraj Kameswar Sing Kalyani Foundation
  • Khan Ushakiran. Bhamti. Shekhar Prakashan, Patna
  • Rositta Valiyamattam “Translating Indian Literatures into English: Theory and Praxis” · Sahita Akademi catalogue
***

Bionote:  Trishna Basak did her B. E. and M. Tech. from Jadavpur University and worked in a Government Press as Manager. She taught at Jadavpur University as visiting faculty and later joined Sahitya Akademi. She left her lucrative career for the passion of writing. She has several books of poetry, short stories, novel and essays to her credit. She regularly writes science fiction for children and translates from original Hindi and Maithili. She has also edited anthology of stories of Indian literature. 
Recipient of several prestigious awards, like Ila Chanda Smriti Puraskar from Bangiya Sahitya Parishat, she has recently received from Paschimbanga Bangla Academy, Government of West Bengal 'Somen Chanda Smarak Samman ' as an young writer for her overall contribution to Bengali Literature. 
She also received Karigar Kriti Sahitya Samman. 2019.


Maithili Poets featured in Setu August 2017

Dr Chandramani Jha is one of the most well known poets and lyricists of Contemporary Maithili Poetry. He has a dozens of books to his credit. His English translation of songs of Mahakavi Vidyapati has received widespread appreciation.
Translator : Bhaskar Jha is a trilingual  poet, published nationally and internationally.

Ayodhyanath Choudhary , an M.A.(English)  is a writer of Anthology of Poetry- 2, Short story collection- 1, Collection of Lyrics- 1,Collection of Essays-1 (in Maithili), in addition to a number of poems and short stories published in different journals and magazines in English, Hindi and Nepali. He has been awarded for contributions in Maithili Literature at regional, national and international levels.

English Translation- himself
                        
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
Taranand Viyogi is a Maithili writer who is known for his works in different genres. As a poet he has two collections; Pralay Rahasya and Hastakshep. Apart from that he also writes short stories and non fictions, most famous among them is a book called Tumi Chir Sarthi, which is about his experiences with one of the most famous Hindi and Maithili writer Yatri Nagarjun. He also delves into criticism(Karmadharay, Bahuvachan) and Children Literature(Ee Bhetal ta ki bhetal) for which he won the Sahitya Akadami award for children literature. His latest is a memoir on Rajkamal Chaudhary in Hindi called Jeevan Kya Jiya. He is currently working on a critical biography of Yatri Nagarjun. 

Translation: Prabhat Jha is a writer, translator who writes in English. His works have been published in Muse India, Odd Magazine and Anti-Serious. He also is the co-editor of a Poetry Journal called Collage. In Translation he is working on a collection of poems written by Taranand Viyogi which will be published soon.

Chandan Kumar Jha is one of the strongest voices of Contemporary Maithili Poetry.  A prolific writer, he has to his credit  six books of poetry in Maithili. He is a recipient of Sahitya Kademy for his anthology of poems “Dharati San Akash Dhari”.

Translation:- Bhaskar Jha & Chandan kr Jha

           


BHASKARANAND JHA BHASKAR
KOLKATA, INDIA

Bhaskar Jha
Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar is a trilingual poet (Maithili, Hindi and English), short story writer, critic and reviewer, based in Kolkata. He is regularly published in various national and international magazines, both printed and online. He writes poems sometimes with heart, sometimes with brain and sometimes with both. He uses catchy lines, expressions and images. In his poetry, social issues, romance and love are tackled with equal passion. Resonant with profound spirituality and intricate mysticism his poems are stunning and enlightening, buoyant sometimes and intense at other times and always have a deep meaning beautiful enough to touch hearts of avid readers. One of his poems on Nelson Mandela has been included in the academic syllabus prescribed for the school students of Philippines.

He is also a contributor to Epitaphs, The Criterion: An International Journal in English, IJML(International Journal On Multicultural Literature), and The Anvil (Forum of Literature & Academic Research in English). He is also a part of several anthologies like ‘Purple Hues”, “Whispering Winds”, “Just For You, My Love”, “Heavenly Hymns”, ‘I Am a Woman”, “The Significant Anthology”, “Umbilical Cords”, A- Divine-Madness (Five Volumes), Poetic Prism-2015 & 16, Searching For Sublime (Australian-Indo Poetry), She the Shakti etc.

He is also the Review Editor of Asian Signature, a literary e-journal, managed from Kolkata

Translation: Contemporary Maithili Poetry

Writings in Contemporary Maithili Poetry

Contemporary Maithili literature has got a boost up in recent times characterized by a large number of social, political, technological factors. All these developments have exerted a deeper impact on writings in Maithili. Since the advent of internet and herewith myriads of social sites, and blogs, the lovers of the language have made the best use of it to express out themselves. Today, they have come with large number of portals, blogs where every now and then outstanding writings, poems, short stories etc., are being posted. Poets are drawing their inspiration from everyday struggles for existence in the context of larger socio-economic and political movements like globalisation, social and political conflicts and human rights crusades, apart from the landscape of countryside.

Of all the poets presented here, Dr Chandramani Jha in his poems, one the one hand sings the glory of woman and her perennial significance, he wails over the inevitable decay of the body, inevitability of death on the other. Ayodhyanath Choudhary takes on the topical issue of devastating flood, human predicament and existential concerns and deadening poverty, Dr Taranand Viyogi’s poetry presents the sad saga of helpless people affected by flood and other social issues. Through Sita, Gandhi and Buddha, he tries his best to put across his ideas and thoughts on sorrow and travails of life. Chanda Kumar Jha, recipient of Sahitya Akademy awards, explores soul’s pursuits for the ultimate reality through its struggles against the influx of mundane mores. He also presents gripping social issues of life.

Maithili Poetry in English

Two Poems of Dr Chandramani Jha
рдиाрд░ी
рддрдк्рдд рдорд░ुрднूрдоि рдХेрд░ рдмрд░рдЦा рдеिрдХ рдиाрд░ी,
рд╢ीрд▓ рд╕ंрд╕्рдХाрд░ рд▓ाрдЬ рдкрд░्рджा рдеिрдХ рдиाрд░ी।
рд╕ृрд╖्рдЯि рдХेрд░ рд╕्рд░ोрдд рдиीрд░ рд╕рд░िрддा рдеिрдХ рдиाрд░ी,
рдк्рд░ेрд░рдгाрдХ рдкुंрдЬ рдк्рд░ेрдо-рдХрд╡िрддा рдеिрдХ рдиाрд░ी।
рдиिрд░्рд╡िрдХाрд░  рднाрд░рд╡ाрд╣ी  рдиाрд░ी  рд╡рд╕ुंрдзрд░ा ,
рддिрдоिрд░ рдмीрдЪ рдЬ्рдпोрддि рдкुंрдЬ рдиाрд░ी рдЛрддंрднрд░ा।
рджрдЧрдзрд▓ рдЖ рдкрдЬрд░рд▓ рд╣िрдп рдиाрд░ी рддुрд╖ाрд░,
рддрд╡рдзрд▓ рдорд╣ीрдХ рд╣ेрддु рд░िрдо-рдЭिрдо рдлुрд╣ाрд░।
рд╕ुрдЦрджा рдХрд▓्рдпाрдгрдордпी рдХрд╖्рдЯ рдХेрд░ рд╢ाрдоिрдХा,
рднाрд▓ рдмीрдЪ рдаोрдк рд╣ेрддु рдиाрд░ी рдЕрдиाрдоिрдХा।
рдЪाрдирди рд╕рди рд╕ुрд░рднिрдд рдЖ рдоाрдеाрдХ рдкाрдЧ,
рд╡ंрд╢рдХ рдк्рд░рд╡ाрд╣िрдХा рдоाрдирд╡ рдХेрд░ рднाрдЧ ।
рдХृрд╖्рдг рдХेрд░ рдмाँрд╕ुрд░ी рд░ाрдо рдХेрд░ рдз्рдпाрди ,
рдиाрд░ी рдеिрдХ рд╢рдХ्рддि-рдмिंрджु рдиाрд░ी рдорд╣ाрди।
рдЕंрдмे рдЬрдЧрджंрдмे рдиाрд░ी рдк्рд░рдгрдо्рдп рдеिрдХ,
рдиाрд░ी рдкрд░ рд╡рдХ्рд░-рджृрд╖्рдЯि рдХिрди्рдирд╣ु рдиे рдХ्рд╖рдо्рдп рдеिрдХ।

WOMAN
A pleasing shower oft sought in a desert and vale
An epitome of the morals and sacrament in a veil.

A brook ever flowing and fountain source of creation
An inspiring love poem oft brimming with appreciation.

Eternal, forbearance and tender heart of substance
A constellation amid darkness shining with elegance

A woman’s heart always writhes in travails and pains
Frosted, stoned and hurt, and wet with tearful rains.

A pleasing fortune and our well-wisher, a silent sufferer
An honor for us as a feminine grace with a surrender

Revered since creations as an atomic pride of progeny
For being an integral part of humane mankind’s destiny.

Like a musical flute of Lord Krishna and a muse of Rama
A source of supreme power and divinity yet in a trauma.

As a divine diva and deity of the world ever hailed adorable
Casting a lecherous stare at her is like a sin unpardonable


рддрди рд╡рд╕ंрдд рдЕрдЫि рд╡्рдпрд░्рде
рдЧेрд▓ рд╢िрд╢िрд░ рдкрд░рджेрд╢ рдоे рдЖрдпрд▓ рдирд╡рд▓ рд╡рд╕ंрдд,
рдкीрдЕрд░ рд╕рд░िрд╕рд╡ рдлूрд▓ рд╕ँ рд╣ुрд▓рд╕िрдд рднेрд▓ рджिрдЧंрдд।
рдЖрдордХ рдкрд▓्рд▓рд╡ рдоंрдЬрд░िрдд рд░рдХ्рддिрдо рднेрд▓ рдкрд▓ाрд╢,
рдЖँрдЦि рдлोрд▓ि рдЧुрд▓рджाрдЙрджी рдйिрд▒рдЦрдп рдзрд╡рд▓ рдЕрдХाрд╢।
рд╕ोрдЭाँ рдоे рдЕрд▓ि рджेрдЦिрдХрдп рднेрд▓ рдЧुрд▓ाрдмी рдЧाрд▓,
рдордзुрд░ рдоिрд▓рди рд╕ंрднाрд╡рдиा рдХोрдЗрд▓ी рдХंрда рдХрдоाрд▓।
рд╣ृрджрдпрдХ рдзрдб़рдХрди рддाрдк рдмрдв़рд▓ рдкрд╡рдирдХ рднेрд▓ рдмрд╣ाрд╡,
рдоृрдЧрдирдпрдиी рд╕рдХुрдЪैрд▓ рдЬे рдврд░рдХрд▓ рдЖँрдЪрд░ рдЖрдм।
рдЙрддрд░ि рдЧेрд▓ рдЫрд▓ рдкाрдиि рдЬрдиिрдХ рдкाрдиिрдХ рдЫрд▓ рдкрд░рд╣ेрдЬ,
рд╢्рд╡ेрдж рдкाрдиि рдХेрд░ рдмूंрдж рд╕ँ рдЪрдордХрдп рдЖрдирди рддेрдЬ।
рд╕्рд╡рд░ рдлूрдЯрд▓ рдЧृрд╣рд╕्рде рдХेрд░ рдЦेрддрдХ рдЖрдб़ि рдорд▓ाрд░,
рдЧिрд░рд╣рддрдиी рд╕्рдлूрд░्рдд рднрдП рд▓рдЧрдмрдеि рдЦूрдм рд╕рдЪाрд░।
рдЕрддिрдеिрдХ рд╕्рд╡ाрдЧрдд рд╣ैрдд рдХोрдиा рдирд╣ि рдХैंрдЪा рдЕрдЫि рдЧेрд╣,
рдИ рд╡рд╕ंрдд рдкुрдиि рдРрд▓ рдЕрдЫि рдиिрд░्рдзрди рд╕ुрддाрдХ рджेрд╣।
рдлूрд▓ рдлूрд▓ рдЕрдЫि рднेрд▓ рддрди рд╡рдиिрддा рдЧुрдг рдХेрд░ рдЦाрди,
рдзрдирд▓ोрд▓ुрдк рдирд░ рдЬोрд╣ि рд░рд╣рд▓ рд╕ुрдд рд╣िрдд рдж्рд░рд╡्рдпрдХ рджाрди।
рдкीрдд рдкीрдд рдЕрдЫि рдЦेрдд рдоे рд╣рд░िрдпрд░ рдЪुрдирд░ी рдЧाрдд,
рдПрд╣ि рд▓рдЧрди рдоे рд▓рд▓рдиा рдХे рдкुрдиि рдирд╣ि рдкीрдЕрд░ рд╣ाрде।
рдк्рд░рдХृрддि рдирдЯी рдЖрдиंрдж рдоे рдЪрд╣ुँ рджिрд╕ рдЧुंрдЬिрдд рдЧाрди,
рдзिрдХ् рд╡рд╕ंрдд рдоे рдкिрддा рд╕рджрди рдоोрд╣िрдиीрдХ рдоुрдЦ рдо्рд▓ाрди।
рдирд╣ि рднрд░ोрд╕ рдиिрдЬ рдмाँрд╣ि рдкрд░ рдпुрд╡ рд╡рд╕ंрдд рд▓ाрдЪाрд░,
рддрди рд╡рд╕ंрдд рдЕрдЫि рд╡्рдпрд░्рде рдЬौं'рдЪंрдж्рд░рдордгि'рдХ рдзिрдХ्рдХाрд░।

YOUTHFUL WANES
Natural ambiance smiles on with the yellow flowers,
For the jovial winter has replaced a morose summer.

Mango buds blossom, Butea grows cherry-red high,
Flamboyant chrysanthemums stare at the blue sky.

A beau’s long awaited advent deepens her pinky cheek,
The mellifluous union is hailed by cooing cuckoos meek.

The wild gush of air fans the flames of love in heart,
The damsel feels all inhibited as if bosoms popped out.

Now prior inhibitory curtains are raised up in shows,
Drops of sweats are trickling down the glowing brows.

Peasant’s parched tongues and parapets are quenched,
Elated housewives show their culinary skills wrenched.

Not a penny at home, then with what to welcome a guest,
Youthful spring again beautifies a poor daughter’s breast.

A treasure-trove of feminine beauty and flowery body,
Lascivious eyes lie in wait for her hand and hefty dowry.

Meadow looks rather yellowish with a green mantilla on,
Wedding time yet allures unmarried daughters at home.

Juggler Fate enjoys natural resonance of sonorous notes,
Distraught father gazes at her withered face with bloats.

Unsure of a succor, youthful spring is of no use to them,
Youthful body lies in vain is what ‘Chandramani’condemns.


Three Poems of Dr Ayodhyanath Chaudhary
рд╕ाрддो рдЖрд╢्рдЪрд░्рдпрд╕ँ рдмрдв़िрдХ'
рднрдЧрд╡ाрди рдордиुрд╖्рдпрдХ рд░рдЪрдиा рдХрдпрд▓рдиि
рдЖ рдУрдХрд░ा рдЪेрд╣рд░ा рдкрд░
рджूрдЯा рдЖँрдЦि рдмрдиा рджेрд▓рдеिрди
рдирдо्рд╣рд░ , рдЫोрдЯ , рдЖрдХрд░्рд╖рдХ
рдЖрд░ рднрдпाрдирдХ рд╕ेрд╣ो
рдкрд░рди्рддु рдХिрдЫुрдП-----------рдЬाрджू рдХрд░'рдмрд▓ा ।
***
рдмीрдЪे рдоे рдПрдХрдЯा рдиाрдХ
рдЪौрдб़ा , рдЪाрдкрдд , рдиोрдХрдЧрд░
рдкрд░рди्рддु рдХिрдЫुрдП-------------рд╕ुрдЧाрдХ рд╕рди।
***
рджुрдиू рдХाрдд рджूрдЯा рдХाрди
рдирдо्рд╣рд░ , рдЫोрдЯ , рдордз्рдпрдо
рдкрд░рди्рддु рдХिрдЫुрдП-------------рдмुрдж्рдз  рд╕рди।
***
рдкрд╕рд░рд▓ рджूрдЯा рднौंрд╣
рдЖँрдЦिрдХ рдЙрдкрд░
рд░ोрдЖँрджाрд░ ,рдкाрддрд░ , рдЕрд░्рдзрд╡ृрдд्рддाрдХाрд░
рдкрд░рди्рддु рдХिрдЫुрдП-------рддाрдирд▓ рдзрдиुрд╖-рд╕рди।
***
рдоाрдердкрд░ рдХेрд╢ рдЬрдоा рджेрд▓рдеिрди
рдШрдирдЧрд░ рд╡ा рдкाрддрд░
рдХाрд░ी рд╡ा рднुрд▓्рд▓
рдкрд░рди्рддु рдХिрдЫुрдП----------------рдФंрдаिрдпा।
***
рдХिрдЫुрдП рдиीрдЪाँ рдПрдХрдЯा рдЪिрдмुрдХ
рдЪाрдкрдд , рдЪौрдб़ा , рдиाрдо
рдкрд░рди्рддु рдХिрдЫुрдП-----------рдмीрдЪрдоे рдзрд╕рд▓ ।
***
рджुрдиू рджिрд╢ рдЧाрд▓
рдоांрд╕рд▓ рдЖ рдЧोрд▓ाрдХाрд░
рдкुрд╖्рдЯ рдЖ рдоोрд▓ाрдпрдо
рдкрд░рди्рддु рдХिрдЫुрдП рдЬाрд╣िрдоे------' рдбिрдо्рдкрд▓ ' рд╣ो ।
(рд╡िрд╢ेрд╖рдд: рд╣ँрд╕рдмा рдХाрд▓ )
***
рдаोрд░-------рдПрдХ рджोрд╕рд░рд╕ँ рд╕рдЯрд▓
рдЙрдкрд░ рдЖ рдиीрдЪाँ , рдоोрдЯ рд╡ा рдкाрддрд░
рдЧोрд▓ рд╡ा рдкрд╕рд░рд▓
рдкрд░рди्рддु рдХिрдЫुрдП-------рдЧुрд▓ाрдмрдХ рдкंрдЦुрд░ी рд╕рди ।
***
рд╕рдм рдПрдХेрдаाँ рд╕ंрдпुрдХ्рдд рднेрд▓ा рд╕рди्рддा
рдордиुрд╖्рдпрдХ рдЪेрд╣рд░ा рдмрдиैрдЫ--рдЕрдг्рдбाрдХाрд░
рдХрд░ीрдм рдЖрдзा рдлीрдЯ рдиाрдо
рд╕ुрди्рджрд░ рд╡ा рдХुрд░ूрдк рд╡ा рдЖрдХрд░्рд╖рдХ
рдЧрдо्рднीрд░ рд╡ा рдЙрджाрд╕ीрди
рдкрд░рди्рддु рдХिрдЫुрдП---------------------рд╣ँрд╕рдоुрдЦ ।
***
рдкрд░рди्рддु  рд░рд╣рд╕्рдпрдордп------рдХिрдПрдХ ?
"рдЕрд░рдмों-рдЦрд░рдмों рдЬрдирд╕ंрдЦ्рдпाрдоे
рдХोрдиो рджूрдЯा рдЪेрд╣рд░ा рдаीрдХ рд╕рдоाрди рдЫै ?"
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Beyond the  seven wonders
God created Man
and on his face
planted  two eyes
big , small, lovely
also fierce
but only a few ------magical.
***
A nose in the  middle
wide , flat , pointed
but only a few---like a parrot's.
***
Two ears on each side
big,  small,  medium
but only a few---like Buddha's.
***
Two brows stretching
over the eyes
hairy,  thin , half- circle
but only a few---like a bow drawn.
***
planted hair all over head
thick or thin
black or gray
but only a few------------------curly.
***
A chin underneath
flat , wide ,long
but only a few-----with a split
***
curved cheeks on both sides
fleshy and wide
plump and soft
but only a few-----with a dimple.
(created with smiles)
***
Lips---side by side
one upon another
thick or thin
round or stretched
but only a few----like a rose-petal.
***
All these taken together
go to make a human face
covering an oval area
of about half ft.
beautiful or ugly
serious or neutral
but only a few------'smiling'.
***
when asked ,
about the mystery---------
" No two faces among billions
remain exactly alike. "


рд╣рдорд░ рджुःрдЦрдХ рдирд╣ि рдУрд░
рдоेрдШ! рд╕рд░्рд╡рд╢рдХ्рддिрдоाрди!
рддों рд╕рдд्рддे рд╕рдПрд╣ рдЫрд╣ ।
***
рдХрд░ोрдб़ो рдШрд░рдмाрд░ рд╡िрд╣िрди
рд╣рдЬाрд░ो рдоाрд░рд▓ рдЧेрд▓
рд╕ंрдХ्рд░рдордг рдкрд╕рд░ि рд░рд╣рд▓
рдкाрдХिрд╕्рддाрдирдХ рдИ рд╣ाрд▓ рднेрд▓।
***
рд╣рдЬाрд░ो рд╕ांрд╕ рджрдмि рдЧेрд▓
рдкрд╣ाрдб़े рдЬрдЦрди рднрд╕рдХि рдЧेрд▓
рд╕рдпрдХрдб़ो рд╣ेрд░ा рдЧेрд▓
рдЕрд╢्рд░ुрдкूрд░्рдг рдЪीрди рднेрд▓ ।
***
рджрд░рдХрд▓ рдоेрдШ, рдЖ рд╕рдпрдХрдб़ों рдХॆँ рдбुрдмा рдЧेрд▓
рд╕ेрдиा -рд╕рди рд░рдХ्рд╖рдХ рд╕ेрд╣ो рдЬрдЦрди рджрд╣ा рдЧेрд▓
рдХे рдХрд░рдд рд░рдХ्рд╖ा рдЖрдм?
рднाрд░рддрдХ рдИ рд╣ाрд▓ рднेрд▓ ।
***
рдИ рдд' рд╣ाрд▓-рд╕ाрд▓рдХ рдШрдЯрдиा рдеिрдХ
рдПрд╣рди рдд' рдХрддेрдХ рднेрд▓
рдмрдб़рдХा рд╕рдм рд╕рдоाрдЪाрд░ рдмрдирд▓
рдЫोрдЯрдХा рд╕рдм рдЕрдирджेрдЦрд▓ рдЧेрд▓ ।
***
рдЗрди्рдбोрдиेрд╕िрдпाрдХ рд╕ुрдиाрдоी рдШिрдиा рдЧेрд▓
рдмंрдЧрд▓ाрджेрд╢ рдЕрднिрд╢рдк्рдд рдЕрдЗ рд╡ाрд░्рд╖िрдХ рддुрдлाрдирд╕ँ
рдоृрдд्рдпु рдЖ рд╡िрдиाрд╢рдХ рдк्рд░рддीрдХ рдЫрд╣ рдмрдирд▓ рддोँ
рдпрдд्рд░-рддрдд्рд░, рдПрдЦрдирд╣ि рдирд╣ि, рдЕрдирди्рдд-рдЕрдирди्рдд рдХाрд▓рд╕ँ।
***
рдиिрд░्рджрдпी рдоेрдШ!
рдХे рдЧрдУрддрд╣ рдк्рд░ेрдордЧीрдд?
рдкрддा рдирд╣ि, рдХाрд▓िрджाрд╕
рдХिрдПрдХ рд▓िрдЦрд▓рдеि 'рдоेрдШрджूрдд'?
***
рд╕िрдиेрд╣ рд╕рдмрдЯा рд╕ुрдЦा рдЧेрд▓
рд╡िрд╢ेрд╖рдг рд╕рдм рдмिрд╕рд░ि рдЧेрд▓
рдХाрд░ी, рдШрдирдЧрд░, рднाрд░ी, рд░ंрдЧीрди, рд╕ुрди्рджрд░
рд╣ृрджрдпрд╕ँ рдЬेрдиा рдЙрдкрдЯि рдЧेрд▓ ।
***
рдЖँрдЦि рдиिрдоुрди्рди рдХрдПрдиे рдЫी
рджेрдЦрдмाрдХ рд╕ाрдорд░्рде्рдп рдирд╣ि
рдЙрдзिрдпाрдЗрдд, рдЙрдб़िрдпाрдЗрдд,рд╕рдордЯाрдЗрдд, рдЪрдвैрдд
рдкрд╕рд░ैрдд,рдШ'рди рд╣ोрдЗрдд------рдХिрдЫु рдирд╣ि, рдХрддौ рдирд╣ि ।
***
рддों рдЕрдмैрдд рдЫрд╣, рдмाрдвि рд▓рдмैрдд рдЫрд╣
рдирд╣ि рдЕрдмैрдд рдЫрд╣, рдЕрдХाрд▓ рдкрдб़ैрдд рдЕрдЫि
рд╕ंрддुрд▓рдирдХ рдЬрдЦрди рд╕ाрдорд░्рде्рдп рдирд╣ि
рддोрд░ाрдоे рдЧुрдгे рдХोрди рдмрдЪैрдд рдЫрд╣ ?
***
рд╣िंрд╕рдХ рдоेрдШ!
рдк्рд░рдХृрддि рдк्рд░рдЦ्рдпाрдд рд╕ंрддुрд▓рди рдЦाрддिрд░
рд╕рдо्рдкूрд░्рдг рдоाрдирд╡рддा рдЬрдЦрди рдЕрд╢्рд░ुрдоुрдЦ
рддोрд╣рд░ рдХेрд╣рди рдИ рди्рдпाрдп рднेрд▓рд╣?
***
рдоेрдШ!
рд╕рд░्рд╡рд╢рдХ्рддिрдоाрди!
рд╕рдо्рдкूрд░्рдг рдиोрд░-рднрд░рд▓ рдХाрдпा рддोрд╣рд░!
рд╕рдо्рдкूрд░्рдг рдиोрд░-рднрд░рд▓ рдХाрдпा рддोрд╣рд░!

My sorrow knows no bounds
Cloud Almighty !
Yes, that's what you are.
***
Millions rendered  homeless
thousands killed
epidemic following
one sad story from Pakistan.
***
Thousands crushed to death
under devastating landslides
hundreds missing
one sad story from China.
***
Cloudbursts -hundreds drowned
armymen ---saviours swept away
save--------who will now?
one sad story from India.
***
This happened
the other day
but numerous stories are afloat
not to talk of 'small coverage' .
***
Notorious 'tsunami' in Indonesia
yearly coastal storm in Bangladesh
an emblem of death and destruction
here and there, from time immemorial.
***
O' cruel clouds!
who sings love songs now?
I wonder why Kalidas in ' Meghdoot'
sent you as a ' messenger of love' .
***
All my love is lost for you
attributives like dark, dense, gray
heavy, low, lovely and cool
are dead in my heart.
***
My eyes are all  shut
I can no longer see you
billowing,  drifting,  gathering
lifting,  spreading and thickening.
***
When you come,  comes flood along
when you do not come, comes famine
what good is there left with you ?
can't you strike a balance ?
***
O' deadly clouds !
though Nature is renowned
for striking a balance
what sort of justice is this ?
***
Cloud !
Almighty !!
yes, all tears you are .
yes, all tears you are.

Four Poems of Dr Taranand Viyogi


рдмाрдвि
рдмाрдвि рдПрд▓ै рднрд░ि рдЧेрд▓ै
рдЖ, рдЙрдЬреЬрд▓ рдЧाрдордХ рд▓ोрдХ
рдЪाрд░ूрдХाрдд рд╣рд╣ाрд░ो рдордЪрд▓ै
рд╕рдмрдаां рдкрд╕рд░рд▓ рд╢ोрдХ

рдЦेрдд рдбुрдмрд▓, рдЦрд░िрд╣ाрдиो рдбुрдмрд▓ै
рдбुрдмрд▓ै рдШрд░ рдХे рдЕрди्рди
рдЪुрд▓्рд╣ा рдЯुрдХ-рдЯुрдХ рддाрдХि рд░рд╣рд▓ рдЕрдЫि
рдХाрдирдп рдЬांрдд рд╣рдХ्рди्рди

рдХрдХрд░ा рдХे рджेрдЦрдп рдЖ рдмрдЪрдмрдп
рд╕рдмрд╣рдХ рдЬाрди рдмрд▓ाрдп
рдЦрдЯ्рдЯा рдкрд░ рдмाрди्рд╣рд▓ рдХрдиैрдд рдЫрдиि
рдЧोрдиू рдЭा рдХे рдЧाрдп।

Flood
Flood came, it got flooded
And, the villagers were uprooted
All around, bewilderment
Sadness spread everywhere.

Farms flooded, barns flooded
Flooded the food in the home,
The chulha looking constantly, ,
The grinding stone crying vehemently.

Whom to see and save,
To save one’s own life, difficult
Crying, tied to the pole,
Gonu Jha’s Cow

рдХोрдиा рдХ’ рд╕ीрддा рджाрдЗ
(рдорд╣ेंрдж्рд░ рдорд▓ंрдЧिрдпाрдХ рдиाрдЯрдХ ‘рдУ рдЦाрд▓ी рдоुँрд╣ рджेрдЦै рдЫै’ рджेрдЦрд▓ाрдХ рдмाрдж)
рдЖрдЧू рдкाрдЫू рднрд░िрдпा рдЬेрддрдиि
рдмीрдЪोрдмीрдЪ рдХрд╣рд░िрдпा рдЬेрддрдиि
рдПрдиा рдХ’ рд╕ीрддा рджाрдЗ рд╕ाрд╕ुрд░ рдЬेрддी.........

рдмांрд╕рдХ рдлрд░рдХी рдкрд░ рд▓ेрдЯрд▓ рдЬेрддी
рдЧोрдЗрдаा-рдХрд░рд╕ी рдкрд░ рдЧेंрдард▓ рдЬेрддी
рдЫोрдЯрдХा рднाрдЗ рдоुँрд╣рдмрдд्рддी рджेрддрдиि
рдЖंрдЧ рд╕рдоांрдЧ рдиे рд╕ंрдЧ рдХ्рдпो рдЬेрддрдиि....

рдоिрдеिрд▓ा –рд╡ाрд╕िрдХ рднрдХ्рдХ рдиे рдЯुрддрддрдиि
рдЬे рдмांрдЪрд▓ рдЫрдиि, рд╕ेрд╣ो рд▓ुрдЯрддрдиि
рдЕрдкрди рдЕрдкрди рд╕рдм рдирд░рдХ рдмрдиौрддा
рдмेрдЯिрдХ рдЦूрди рдоे рдЦुрдм рдирд╣ौрддा.....

рддिрд▓рдХ-рджрд╣ैрдЬ рдиे рдЫोрдбрд▓ рдЬेрддै 
рдпैрд╣ рд░ोрдЧ рдЕрдЗ рджेрд╕ рдХेँ рдЦेрддै
рдХрд╣िрдпो рд░ाрдо рдХрд╕ैрдпा рднेрд▓рдиि
рдЬрдирдХो рдЖрдм рдоुрджैрдпा рднेрд▓рдиी.....

рдХोрдиा рдХ’ рд╕ीрддा рджाрдЗ рд╕ाрд╕ुрд░ рдЬेрддी
рдХрдХрд░ рдХрдХрд░ рдУ рднाрд░ рдЙрдаेрддी
рдХрдХрд░ рдХрдХрд░ рдУ рднुрдЦ рдоेрдЯेрддी
рдХिрдП рдиे рдн्рд░ुрдгрд╣ि рдоाрд░рд▓ рдЬेрддी?

How will Sita Dai?
(After watching Mahendra Malangia’s play ‘O khali Muh Dekhai Chhai’)
In the front and behind, the porter
In the middle, the bearer,
In this way, Sita Dai will go to her in-laws

Lying on a bamboo plank
Pilled on the dung heap.
Younger brother will light the pyre.
No one else will come along

The sleep of Maithils won’t break
Whatever is left, that’ll be looted.
Everyone will build his own hell
Will take a long bath with daughter’s blood.

Tilak, dowry, won’t be left
This ailment will eat the region.
Someday, Ram a butcher
Janak too, now an enemy.

How will Sita Dai go to her in-laws?

Of how many she’ll bear weight?
Of how many she’ll meet hunger?
Why won’t she be killed in womb?


рд╕ाрд▓े-рд╕ाрд▓ рдЧांрдзी–рд╡рдз
рдПрд╣ि рд╕ाрд▓ рдлेрд░ рдЧांрдзी рдоुрдЗрд▓ाрд╣
рддँ рдордиे рд╣рдорд╣ुँ рднेрд▓рд╣ुँ рдиिрд╢्рдЪिंрдд।

рдПрд╣,
рд╕ाрдаि рд╕ाрд▓ рд╕ँ
рдХेрди рд░рд╣рдеि рд╣рд░ाрди।

рдмेрд░ рдмेрд░ рдкрдЫрддाрдмी рдЬे
рдУрд╣,
рд╣рдо рдЧांрдзी рдирд╣ि рдмрдиि рд╕рдХрд▓рд╣ुँ
рдЧांрдзीрдХ рджेрд╢ рдоे рдЬрди्рдоिрдпो рдХ’
рд╣рдо рдЧांрдзी рдирд╣ि рдмрдиि рд╕рдХрд▓рд╣ुँ।

рдЕрдЗ рдмेрд░ рдоुрдЗрд▓ाрд╣ рдЧांрдзी
рддँ рдордиे рднेрд▓ рдЫी рдиिрд╢्рдЪिंрдд।

рдЬाрдЧрд▓ рдЕрдЫि рднрд░ोрд╕
рдЬे рд▓ोрдХ рдЖрдм рд╕ोрдЪрддाрд╣।
рдиेрддाрд╡рджрдХ рдмाрдж?
--  рдоाрдУрд╡ाрдж?

рд╣ोрдЗрдП рдЬे рд▓ोрдХ рдЖрдм
рдЖрдЧू рд╕ोрдЪрддाрд╣ рдЬрд░ूрд░।

рд╕ोрдЪैрдП рдкрдб़рддрдиि....।

Year after Year, Gandhi gets Killed
This year too, Gandhi died,
I also got relaxed.

Eh!
For sixty years
He has bothered me.

Again and again, I regretted
Oh!
I couldn’t become Gandhi.
Even after being born in Gandhi’s country.
I couldn’t become Gandhi.

This time when Gandhi died
My mind has relaxed.
Risen again, the hope
That people will think,
What after Politicianism?
What?
Maoism?
Publicism?
Cowism?
Buffaloism?
What?
What after politicianism?

I feel, people will
think now, surely.

They’ll have to think.

рдмुрдж्рдзрдХ рджुрдЦ
рдкैंрддीрд╕ рдмрд░рдЦ рдкрд░ рдШुрд░рд▓ाрд╣ рдЕрдЫि рдмुрдж्рдз
рд░рд╣рд▓ाрд╣ рдПрд╣ि рдмीрдЪ рдкрдЯрдиा рд╕ंрдЧ्рд░ाрд╣рд▓рдпрдХ рдХाрд░ाрдЧाрд░ рдоे।

рдкैंрддीрд╕ рдмрд░рдЦ рдкрд╣िрдиे рдордиुрдЖं рдзाрд░ рдоे рдмाрд╕ा рдЫрд▓рдиि
рдЖрдм рдмрд╕ै рдЫрдеि рдХाрд░ू рд╕ंрдЧ्рд░рд╣ाрд▓рдпрдХ рдзрдордирднрдЯ्рдЯी рдоे।

рджेрд╣ рд▓рдЧा рдХ’ рдЯांрдЧрд▓ рдЫрдиि рд╕ाрдЗрдирдмोрд░्рдб
рдЬे рдУ рдордиुрдЖं рдзाрд░ рд╕ँ рдмрд░ाрдордж рднेрд▓ाрд╣।

рд╕ंрд╕्рдХृрддि,
рдЬाрд╣ि рдоे рдЭुрдордХा рдмрд░ाрдордж рд╣ोрдЗрдд рд╣ो
рджुрдордХा рдоें,
рдЖ рдХрдирдмाрд▓ी
рдХाрд╢ी рдоे,
рдмुрдж्рдз рдмрд░ाрдордж рд╣ेрдеि рдордиुрдЖं рдзाрд░ рдоे,
рдХोрди рдЖрд╢्рдЪрд░्рдп?

рддрд░рд╣-рддрд░рд╣ेँ рд▓ोрдХ рд╡्рдпрдХ्рдд рдХ’ рдЬाрдЗрдП рдЕрдкрди рдУрдЫрдкрди
рдЖ рдмुрдж्рдз рдЖँрдЦि рдоुрдирдиे
рдиिрд╢्рдЪेрд╖्рдЯ рдмैрд╕рд▓ рд░рд╣ैрдд рдЫрдеि।

рдмुрдж्рдз рдХेँ рдПрдЦрди
рдЖрд░ рдмрд╣ुрдд рджुрдЦ рднोрдЧрдмाрдХ рдЫрдиि, рдмुрдЭाрдЗрдП।

рдкंрдбिрдд-рдкंрдбा рд▓ोрдХрдиि рдХेрд▓рдиि рдЕрдЫि рдк्рд░рдпाрд╕
рдмुрдж्рдз рдлेрд░ рд╕ँ рдирджी-рддрдЯ рдкрд╣ुрдЪрдеि।

рдУ рд╕рдм рдорд╣ाрдоाрди्‍рдп рд▓ोрдХрдиि рдХे рдХ’ рд░рд╣рд▓ рдЫрдеि рдк्рд░рднाрд╡िрдд
рд╣िрди्‍рджी-рд╣िрди्‍рджूрдХ рджैрдд рджोрд╣ाрдЗ।

рдордиुрдЖं-рдХाрдд рдоें рдкрд╣िрдиे рдмрдирддрдиि рдорди्рджिрд░
рдЬрддрдП рдмुрдж्рдз рдХाрд▓рднैрд░рд╡ рд╡ा рд╢ीрддрд▓ा рдоाрдЗ
рдХрд╣ा рдХ’ рдкूрдЬрд▓ рдЬेрддाрд╣।

рдЬрд╣िрдпा рдХрд╣िрдпो рдлेрд░ рдХрдПрд▓े рдЙрдж्рдШाрдЯрди рдХेँ
рдкुрди: рдЙрдж्рдШाрдЯिрдд рдХрд░ै рдЬेрддाрд╣ рдЗрддिрд╣ाрд╕рдХाрд░ рд▓ोрдХрдиि
рдЬे рдУ рд╢ीрддрд▓ा рдоाрдЗ рдирд╣ि рдЧौрддрдо рдмुрдж्рдз рдеिрдХाрд╣,
рдПрдХ рдмेрд░ рдлेрд░ рдордиुрдЖं рдзाрд░ рдоें рдЧोрдбрд▓ рдЬेрддाрд╣ рдмुрдж्рдз।

рдЬрдиि рдирд╣ि рдлेрд░ рдХрд╣िрдпा
рдмрд╣рд░ा рд╕рдХрддाрд╣ рдордиुрдЖं рдзाрд░рдХ рд╢рдпрдиाрд▓рдп рд╕ँ
рдЖ рдлेрд░ рдкрд╣ुँрдЪрддाрд╣ рдХрд╣िрдпा рдкрдЯрдиा рд╕ंрдЧрд╣ाрд▓рдпрдХ рдХाрд░ाрдЧाрд░?

The Sadness of Buddha
After thirty five years, Budhha is back,
In between, lived in the prison of Patna Museum

Thirty years ago, he resided in the stream of Manua.
Now, he resides in the furnace of Karu Museum.

A signboard,
Hanging, in front of  his body.
That he was recovered from stream of Manua

Culture,
 In which Jhumka gets recovered from Dumka
And Kanbali from Kashi
If Buddha gets recovered from the stream of Manua
Is it surprising?

Through different ways
People express their smallness,
And Buddha is sitting,
Eyes closed,
Inert.

Buddha, now,
Has to suffer a lot more sadness,
It seems.

Pandits have tried hard,
That Buddha goes back to the Manua river bank.

Royal highnesses are affected by
The claims of Hindu and Hindus’

First, a temple will be built near Manua.
Where Buddha will be called
 Kalbhairav or Sheetala Mai.
And get worshipped.

When the discovered discovery
Will be discovered, again
by the archaeologists.
That he is not Sheetala Mai, but Gautama Buddha
Again he will be buried in the stream of Manua..

Who  knows when again
He’ll get out from the bed of Manua’s stream,
And reach the prison of Patna Museum.
When again?


Four Poems of Chandan Kumar Jha


1. рдИ рдХोрди рдЙрдж्рд╡ेрдЧрдоे рдЪрд▓ि рдЬाрдЗрдд рдЫी рдмौрдЖрдЗрдд
рдИ рдХोрди рдЙрдж्рд╡ेрдЧрдоे рдЪрд▓ि рдЬाрдЗрдд рдЫी рдмौрдЖрдЗрдд
рд▓ाрдн-рд╣ाрдиि рдмिрд╕рд░ि
рджुрд░рдЦा рдЯрдкि, рджрд▓ाрди рдкрд░рд╕ँ рд╕рд╕рд░ि
рдШुрд░िрдЖрдЗрдд рд╕рдордпрдХ рдЕрдХाрдмोрдирдоे
рдиिрд╕рднेрд░, рдиिрд╢्рдЪिंрдд, рдиिрд░ुрдж्рджेрд╢्рдп рд╣рдаाрдд्
рдиिрд░ुрдкाрдпрдХ рдЙрдкाрдп рддрдХрдмाрдХ рд╣ेрддु...
рдИ рдХोрди рдЙрдж्рд╡ेрдЧрдоे рдЪрд▓ि рдЬाрдЗрдд рдЫी рдмौрдЖрдЗрдд
рдкрд░िрдЬрди-рдкुрд░рдЬрдирдХेँ рдЫाрдб़ि
рд╕рдирдХрд▓ рдЬेрдиा рд╣ोрдЗ рдмिрд╣ाрдб़ि
рдк्рд░рдкंрдЪीрдХ рдЯोрд▓рдоे, рд▓ाрдЪाрд░ीрдХ рдЕрдирдШोрд▓рдоे
рдЙрдЬाрд░िрдиिрд╣ाрд░рдХेँ рдЙрдЬाрдб़рдмाрдХ рд╣ेрддु
рдЙрдЬрдб़рд▓рдХेँ рдкрд░рддाрдб़рдмाрдХ рд╣ेрддु...
рдИ рдХोрди рдЙрдж्рд╡ेрдЧрдоे рдЪрд▓ि рдЬाрдЗрдд рдЫी рдмौрдЖрдЗрдд
рд╣ँрд╕ैрдд-рдмрдЬैрдд
рдирдЪैрдд-рдЧрдмैрдд
рд╕्рд╡ीрдХृрддिрдХ рдЖрд╣्рд▓ाрджрдоे, рдЕрд╕्рд╡ीрдХृрддिрдХ рдЕрд╡рд╕ाрджрдоे
рд╡्рдпрд╡рд╕्рдеाрдХेँ рдЪрдордХрдпрдмाрдХ рд╣ेрддु
рд╕рдд्рддाрдХेँ рджрдорд╕рдпрдмाрдХ рд╣ेрддु...
рдИ рдХोрди рдЙрдж्рд╡ेрдЧрдоे рдЪрд▓ि рдЬाрдЗрдд рдЫी рдмौрдЖрдЗрдд
рдХाрди рдкрдердиे
рдбेрдЧ рд╕рдзрдиे
рдЧाрдордХ рдзुрдХрдзुрдХीрдХेँ рдЕрдХाрдирддि
рдХोрдиो рдПрдХाрди्рддрдоे рд╕्рд╡рдк्рди рдмुрдирдмाрдХ рд╣ेрддु
рд░ाрддि рдЖ рдк्рд░ाрддрдХ рд╕ंрд╡ाрдж рдЧुрдирдмाрдХ рд╣ेрддु...
рдИ рдХोрди рдЙрдж्рд╡ेрдЧрдоे рдЪрд▓ि рдЬाрдЗрдд рдЫी рдмौрдЖрдЗрдд
рдЙрдЧैрдд-рдбुрдоैрдд
рдеाрд╣ैрдд-рдЧрдоैрдд
рдаुрда्рдаी рднрд░िрдХ рдХрд▓рдорд╕ँ, рдоुрдЯ्рдаी рддрдирдиे
рдЕрд╕ीрдордХेँ рд╕рдзрдмाрдХ рд╣ेрддु
рдЕрдирди्рддрдХेँ рдирдкрдмाрдХ рд╣ेрддु ...


1. How impulsively I turn away, lost
How impulsively I turn away, lost
Profits and loss forgotten
Crossing the doorstep
The threshold
Moving here and there
in the dense forest of time aimless
Sleeping Soundly and
All of a sudden
Looking for way-outs to cure the incurable…
How impulsively I turn away, lost
Repudiating neighbours and villagers
As if the tornado
In the hamlet of conspirators
And in the din of helplessness
To destroy the devastators
For the persuasion of those already devastated
How impulsively I turn away, lost
Smilingly uttering
Dancing and singing
Out of joy emanating from the nod
Pensive
In the event of rejection
For greasing the system
Threatening those in power

How impulsively I turn away, lost
Eavesdropping
Quite alert
Feeling the beats of the countryside
To weave the dreams in solitariness
To brood over
The nocturnal and morning message
How impulsively I turn away, lost
Rising-falling
Fathoming the depth
With fingers gripped
On the shorter pen
For transcending the infinite
For measuring the infinitude

2. рдоुрдиिрдЧा
рдЕрдкрдиा рдзрд░рдкрд░ рд╕ोрд╣рд░рд▓ рднूрдЖ рджेрдЦि
рдоुрдиिрдЧाрдХेँ рд╣ोрдЗрдд рдЫैрдХ
рдЕрдкрди рд╢्рд░ेрд╖्рдарддाрдХ рдЖрднाрд╕
рд▓рдЧैрдд рдЫैрдХ рдЬेрдиा-
рднрд╜ рдЧेрд▓ рдЕрдЫि рдиिрд╕्рд╕рди
рд╢ीрд╢ो, рдЧрдорд╣ाрд░ि, рд╕рдЦुрдУрд╕ँ рдмेрд╕ी
рдЬेрдиा рднрд╜ рдЧेрд▓ рдЕрдЫि
рдЖрдо, рдЬाрдоु, рдХрдЯрд╣рд░ोрд╕ँ рдЕрдзिрдХ рд▓ोрдХोрдкрдпोрдЧी
рдЬेрдиा рднрд╜ рдЧेрд▓ рдЕрдЫि
рдмाँрд╕, рдкीрдкрд░, рд╡рдЯрд╡ृрдХ्рд╖ोрд╕ँ рдмेрд╕ी рдШрдирдЧрд░

рдоुрдиिрдЧाрдХ рдзрд░рдкрд░ рд╕ोрд╣рд░рд▓ рднूрдЖ
рд╕рд╣рд╕рд╣ рдХрд░ैрдП рдмाрдЯрдкрд░
рдШेрд░ि рд▓ैрдЫ рдЪौрдмрдЯिрдпा
рдЪрдв़рдп рд▓рдЧैрдП рдШрд░рд╡ाрд░ीрдХ рдЯाрдЯрдкрд░
рдоुрдиिрдЧाрдХेँ рд▓рдЧैрдд рдЫैрдХ
рдЬेрдиा рднрд╜ рд░рд╣рд▓ैрдП рдУрдХрд░ рд╕ाрдо्рд░ाрдЬ्рдпрдХ рд╡िрд╕्рддाрд░
рдЕंрдЧрдиाрд╕ँ рджрд▓ाрдирдзрд░ि рдкрд╕рд░ि рд░рд╣рд▓ैрдП
рдУрдХрд░ рдк्рд░рддाрдк,
рд╕рдЧрд░ो рднрд╜ рд░рд╣рд▓ैрдП рдУрдХрд░े рдк्рд░рдЪाрд░

рдШрд░рд╡ाрд░ी рдЕрдиैрдд рдЕрдЫि
рдПрдХ рдкाँрдЬ рдЦрдв़
рдЦрдб़рд░ि рджैрдЫ рдПрдХрдЯा рд╕рд▓ाрдЗрдХ рдХाрдаी
рдоुрдиिрдЧाрдХ рд╕ाрдо्рд░ाрдЬ्рдп рднрд╜ рдЬाрдЗрдЫ рдЦाрдХ
рд╕рдЧрд░ो рдкрд╕рд░ि рдЬाрдЗрдЫ
рдЧрди्рдз, рдЪिрдб़ाрдЗрди рдЧрди्рдз

рдШрд░рд╡ाрд░ी рдЕрдиैрдд рдЕрдЫि
рдПрдХрдЯा рдмाрддीрдХ рдмेँрдЯ рд▓ाрдЧрд▓ рдЯेंрдЧाрд░ी
рдХाрдЯि рджैрдЫ рдоुрдиिрдЧाрдХ рдЬрдб़ि
рд╕рдЧोрд░ рдкрд╕рд░ि рдЬाрдЗрдЫ
рдПрдХрдЯा рддрдеाрдХрдеिрдд рд╕ाрдо्рд░ाрдЬ्рдпрдХ
рдоृрдд्рдпुрдХ рдЧрди्рдз

рдХрддрд╣ुँрд╕ँ рдЕрдмैрдЫ рдПрдХрдЯा рдиेрдиा рдЦेрд▓ाрдЗрдд
рдоुрдиिрдЧाрдХ рдоूрдб़ि рдкрдХрдб़ि
рдШिрд╕िрдпाрдХрд╜ рдлेंрдХ рджैрдЫ
рдкрдЫुрдЖрд░рдХ рдЪрднрдЪ्рдЪाрдоे
рд╕рдЧрд░ो рдкрд╕рд░ि рдЬाрдЗрдЫ рдЧрди्рдз
рдПрдХрдЯा рддрдеाрдХрдеिрдд рд╕рдо्рд░ाрдЯрдХ
рдиिрд╖्рдк्рд░ाрдг, рдкрдЪрдкрдЪाрдЗрдд рджेрд╣рдХ рдЧрди्рдз

2. MUNIGA*  (Drumstick)
Finding bhuaas (itching insects) on his trunk
Muniga gets a feel
Of his greatness, superiority
Feels as it were
He is seasoned
More than sheesho, gamhari, sakhua (names of trees)
Even more popular(People Friendly) than aam, jaamu, kathar
As if
More densely
thanbaans, peepar, vatvriksha
 Bhuaas dotted along the trunk
Throng the way
Cordon off the crossroad
And climb the thatched fence of the housekeeper
Muniga feels
As if his estate gets extended
Glory spreads
From courtyard to the outside-resthouse
Widespread all around

Householder fetches
Armful of straws
rubs matchsticks to fire
putting  muniga’s empire to ashes
giving eerie stinks all around
 Householder gets an axe, fitted with a handle
Cuts down muniga from his(IT) root
Spreads everywhere pungent stinks
of a so-called empire
Deadened
From somewhere appears a kid
Who catches hold of muniga’s head
Angry, he throws off
In to the backside pond
Spreads everywhere stinks
Dead, stinking of body
Of a so-called emperor

3. рд╣рдорд░рдЧाрдо
рдХुрд╣ेрд╕рдХ рдУрд╣िрдкाрд░ рдоे
рд╣рдорд░ рдЧाрдо рдЕрдЫि
рдЬрддрдп рдПрдЦрдиो
рдЪрдордХैрдд рд╣ेрддрдеि рд╕ुрд░ूрдЬрджेрд╡
рдХि рдкрд╕рд░рд▓ рд╣ेрддैрдХ рд╕рдЧрд░ो
рд╣ुрдирдХे рд╕рди рд╕ुрджिрдк्рдд, рд╕ुрд╕ुрдо,
рдШूрд░рдХ рдзрдзрд░ाрдХ рдЗрдЬोрдд,
рдЧрд░рдоौрдиे рд╣ोрдпрдд рдЧाрдордХेँ
рдЖ' рдХि рдкрд╕рд░िрдЧेрд▓ рд╣ेрддैрдХ
рдЧाрдордХ рджोрдЧ-рд╕ाрдиि рдзрд░ि
рдЙрджीрдпрдоाрди рдкुрд░्рдгिрдоाрдХ рдЪाрди рд╕рди
рдмोрд░рд╕िрдХ рдЕंрдЧोрд░рдХ рдЧुрд▓ाрдмी рдЖрднा
рдЫिрдЯрдХि рдХрд╜ рд╣рдорд░े рдЧौंрдЖрдХ рдаोрдв़рд╕ँ
рдЬрдЧрдордЧौрдиे рд╣ोрдпрдд рджंрдд-рджीрдкрдоाрд▓िрдХा
рдЧाрдордХ рдЕंрдЧрдиा-рджрд▓ाрдирдХेँ

рдХुрд╣ेрд╕ рдХ рдПрд╣िрдкाрд░рдоे
рд╣рдо рдЫी
рдмोрдЭрдХ-рдмोрдЭ рдХрдкрдб़ाрдоे рдиुрд░िрдЖрдпрд▓
рдХाрд░рдЦाрдиाрдХ рдзुँрдЖрдоे рдлрдб़рдлрд░ाрдЗрдд
рдиाрдХ-рдоुँрд╣ рдЭँрдкрдиे рднрда्рдаी рд▓рдЧ рдмैрд╕рд▓
рдЕрднाрд╡рдХ рдЖрдЧि рдоिрдЭेрдмा рд╣ेрддु
рдХिрдЫु-рдмुрди्рди рдШाрдордХ рдЬोрдЧाрд░рдоे
рдПрд╣ि рд╕рд░्рдж рд╢рд╣рд░ी рдЕрди्рд╣ाрд░рдоे
рдмрдЬाрд░े-рдмрдЬाрд░ рдмौрдЖрдЗрдд, рдерд░-рдерд░ाрдЗрдд

рдЬрдЦрди-рдЬрдЦрди рдЕрдкрди рдоाрдердХ рдШाрдо
рдкोрдЫि рдлेрдХैрддрдЫी рдХाрд░рдЦाрдиाрдХ рднрда्рдаीрдоे
рдХि рдХрд░ैрддрдЫी
рдЕрднाрд╡рдХ рдЖрдЧि рдоिрдЭेрдмाрдХ рдк्рд░рдпाрд╕
рддрдЦрди-рддрдЦрди рдЪिрдордиीрдХ рдзुрдЖँрд╕ँрдХि
рд╣рдорд░े рдЪूрд▓्рд╣िрд╕ँ рдмрд╣рд░ाрдЗрдд рдзुрдЖँрд╕ँ
рд╣рдорд░ा рдЖ рд╣рдорд░ рдЧाрдордХ рдмीрдЪрдХ рдХुрд╣ेрд╕
рдЖрдУрд░ рдШрдирдШрд░ рднрд╜ рдЬाрдЗрдЫ
рдЕрдкрдирд╣ि рдоुँрд╣рдХ рднाрдлрд╕ँ
рдзुंрдз рдЖрдЪ्рдЫाрджिрдд рднрд╜ рдЧेрд▓ рдЕрдЫि рд╣рдорд░рдмाрдЯ
рдХुрд╣ेрд╕рдХ рдПрд╣िрдкाрд░рдоे
рд╣рдорд░ рдЧाрдо рд╣ँрд╕ैрдд рд╣ोрдпрдд рд╣рдорд░ाрдкрд░
рдХुрд╣ेрд╕рдХ рдУрд╣िрдкाрд░рдоे

3. My Village
Beyond the fog
Exists my village
Where even today
Sun God must be shining
With his splendour everywhere
Bonfire lights up
Warming the village
Or might have spread
In every nook and corner
Like a brimming full moon
Rosy aura of sensuousness
Playing on the lips of the village
Brightening up teeth-rows
Of the rural ambience of the village

This side of the fog
Stand I
Wrapped up in bundles of clothes
Writhing in smoke of factories
Covered face, sitting near the hearth
For extinguishing the fire of hunger
In search of some sweats
In the cold darkness of the city
Wandering from mart to mart
With trembles

Whenever sweats are
Wiped off from the tired face
Poured into the kiln
Or I try to
Extinguish the fire of the needs
Then from the smoke
Coming from the chimney,
From the smoke off my hearth
The fog in between me and my village
Gets thicker
With the vapour of the mouth
My path seems covered with smog
This side of the fog
My village must be mocking at me
Beyond the fog

4. рд╕рд░्рд╡рдзрд░्рдо рд╕рдорднाрд╡
рдЙрдЪिрдд рдоुрд▓्рдпрдХेрд░ 'рдоीрдЯ-рд╢ॉрдк'рдкрд░
рдмैрд╕ाрдУрд▓ рдЧेрд▓ рдЫрдеि рдкрддिрд╣ाрдиीрдоे
рдм्рд░рд╣्рдоा-рд╡िрд╖्рдгु-рдорд╣ेрд╢
рд▓िрдЦрд▓ рдЫैрдХ-
'рдЕрд╣िंрд╕ा рдкрд░рдоो рдзрд░्рдоः' рдХेрд░ рдЙрдкрджेрд╢
рдмैрд╕рд▓ рдЫрдеि
'рд╣рд▓ाрд▓-рдЧोрд╢्рдд' рдХेрд░ рдк्рд░рддिрдХ्рд╖ाрдоे
рдоिрд╕्рдЯрд░ рдбीрд╕ूрдЬा
рдкोрд╕рдиे
'рддрди्рджूрд░ी' рдЦрдпрдмाрдХ рдордирд╕ूрдмा ।

4.Sense of secularism
At the ‘meat-shop’ with reasonable rate
Installed at a place
Are Brahma-Vishnu-Mahesh
 The proclamation goes-
Ahimsa ParmoDharmah
(non-violence is a great virture)
Waiting for  halaal-meat
Mr. D’Suza
Cherishing the desire
To devour
‘tandoori’

Bhaskar Jha

Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar is a trilingual poet (Maithili, Hindi and English), short story writer, critic and reviewer, based in Kolkata. He is regularly published in various national and international magazines, both printed and online. His poetry springs straight from heart and mind as unification of sensibility. He uses catchy lines, expressions and images. In his poetry, social issues, romance and love are tackled with equal passion. Resonant with profound spirituality and intricate mysticism his poems are stunning and enlightening, buoyant sometimes and intense at other times and always have a deep meaning beautiful enough to touch hearts of avid readers. One of his poems on Nelson Mandela is included in the academic syllabus prescribed for the school students of Philippines.

Soothing Serenades: Straight From  the Heart is his first volume of poems and his second poetry book Two Indias and Other Poems is in the pipeline. He is also a contributor to journals like The Criterion: An International Journal in English, IJML (International Journal On Multicultural Literature),  The Anvil (Forum of Literature & Academic Research in English) and 
Harvests of New Millennium, The Interiors, Taj Mahal Review, IJES (The Indian Journal of  English Studies). He is also a part of several anthologies like 'Epitaphs', Purple Hues”, “Whispering Winds”, “Just For You, My Love”, “Heavenly Hymns”, ‘I Am a Woman”, “The Significant Anthology”, “Umbilical Cords”, "A- Divine-Madness" (Five Volumes), "Poetic Prism" - 2015 & 16, "Searching For Sublime" (Australian-Indo Poetry), "She the Shakti", "Whispering Heart"etc.

He is also the Review Editor of Asian Signature, a literary e-journal, managed from Kolkata.