What sound do you hear when your loved ones leave? What if the sluggish earthworm burrowing the earth get cemented?
When things start leaving you
they don’t say bye.
Silently, they leave in a row.
My dad did not say bye
when he died.
My mom did not say bye
when she died.
My house did not say bye
when it quietly collapsed.
My garden did not say bye
when it went under water.
Finally, my love my love
my love did not say bye
when she left
when she left.
When I left me
I left quietly
leaving no trail of good-byes.
But I heard a violin from afar.
(This poem got 110 translations in Malayalam, three in Telugu, two in Tamil, one in Kannada, three in Hindi, one in Magadhi , one in Punjabi, one in Kashmiri, two in Bengali, one in Assamese, one in Karbi, two in Odia, and one in Urdu. Also translations in Indonesia (bhasa), Italian, Spanish, French, German and Danish)
(To my mom who died recently)
Mom had two hearts like two breasts.
One of stone and
One of flesh.
They worked alternatively.
On days when the pulpy one worked
She talked of my infantile jaundice days
When I turned turmeric yellow.
I would have died but for
A doctor named Adam Khan in Pazhavangadi*.
On days when the stony heart worked
She slept with a koduval** under her pillow
To protect us kids from potential enemies.
Till she died, she maintained
“A woman should always carry
A hack knife in her heart.”
On the night of her death,
I found it glowing in the dark
On an X-ray shot of her chest.
* Pazhavangadi: A place in Thiruvananthapuram.
** Koduval: Hack knife
Dear sluggish earthworm
Don’t burrow the earth
You may be cemented.
Dear sprightly grasshopper
Don’t just hop around
You may be skewered.
Dear shiny loony moon
Don’t show your bright face
You may be eclipsed.
Dear sweet mynah
Don’t sing so loud
Your voice strings may be cut.
Dear green peacock
Don’t dance in public
You may be maimed.
Dear distant pole star
Don’t show us the way.
You may be blinded.
Dear flashy rat snake
Don’t wriggle around
You may be beheaded.
Dear little sparrow
Don’t get raped
You could be jailed.
Dear torrid sun
Don’t get so hot
You may be blotted.
Dear mighty water fall
Don’t fall majestically
You may be dammed.
You guys are reaching your end
Your genocide is on its way.
Your terminator has landed.
He works alphabetically.