Friday, November 16, 2012

Landscape

How could the gulmohur 
preserve its redness 
in the unceasing traffic 
of automobiles? 

At some nondescript moment 
of some forever-lost century 
this redness began its journey 
from some first stirring of blood 
to the April sunlight of today. 

This summer day 
heaps red dust on the road 
meandering across the treeless hill. 
Tyres of cars, buses, trucks and jeeps 
and the chimneys of the steel plant 
belch red dust all the time. 
How then can the gulmohur 
preserve its own redness? 

I look out of the window 
of the superfast bus 
through my sunglasses 
and try to comprehend 
actual problems of the red colour 
and its present-day motives and conduct. 

Are my looks as stupid 
as the look of 
the superannuated old chairman 
of the Enquiry-Commission 
set up after the crowd 
took out processions, burnt buses, and 
was lathi-charged and fired upon? 

From its origin in ether 
the gulmohur's redness 
has descended on the road. 
How could redness continue to be red 
amidst all this automobile traffic? 

Where does this redness go 
after the annihilation of its being? 
Does it travel to a sad, disarrayed, 
unsure and ravaged sunset 
in some horizon? 
Translated by Ramakanta Rath

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