This
is the fourteenth part of the translation of Mahagama Sekera's epic
poem 'Prabuddha', an exercise that has the permission and blessings of
the immediate family of Mahagama Sekera. Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI , VII, VIII, IX, X , XI, XII and XIII can be found in www.malindapoetry.blogspot.com.
CHAPTER III
Snotty-nosed
and unkempt
scantily
clad and emaciated
there
are children
at
the slum-door.
Rusty
water from street faucet
wets
and flows pavement and road,
heavyset
women in body-wash and bath
empty
tins, naked kids and Rani soap
thick
phlegm, male and female
rise
in white and ride the lost and losing waters,
plantain
skins and fish scales
leftover
rice, broken pieces of tile,
the
soaked squalor of life-remnant
give
rise to revulsion,
meanwhile.
Rani
soap fragranced
Tap-water
shower
cheap
glistening-gold shoes
deep
red reddened red lips
thickly
powdered cheeks
a
bright, vividly colored sari
wrapped
around her
and
a handbag to swing, to hold,
the
mother steps out at dusk
to
work.
The
emaciated consumptive
also
known as head-of-household
on
the pavement
on
his haunches sits
dragging
on a beedi
puffing
smoke into the night
red-black
tattoos
of
swords and tigers
decorating
arms --
signs
of muscular days
long
gone waste.
Her eyes tarry awhile
gaze meets gaze
mind reads mind
the shadow of a smile
sweeps momentarily
across countenances
marked by affection and
regret,
and in that instant
she saw the indelible
letters
the black legend across
his chest:
Amma budu wewa!
May my mother attain
Buddhahood.
And along the narrow lane
walked Prabuddha,
slow, quiet and calm.
The children lifted eyes
looked at him.
‘Where is he going, this
gentle man?
Could he be the father?’
The man too looked
with suspicion, with
hatred,
struck a match
with resolve that had no
name
re-lit his beedi.
Running hither and thither
on the dismal road lined
by shanties
that was their home,
shrieking and laughing
unintended recipients of
foul word and curse,
these children,
are they not mine,
Prabuddha wondered.
LEAVE A COMMENT
