Lonely World… Come, Let’s Draw Dali’s Moustache
In the obscure corner of a town
deserted by all its inhabitants,
in that final dissolving emptiness
in which not a trace of me is left,
a yellow flower lying prostrate
teaches the alphabet of love,
winding its arms
around the wind’s waist,
and then everything starts to melt
as in Dali’s famous painting.
Why else is the town
bereft of its people now?
Paths where men and women
used to walk abreast
waving their arms about;
places where they milled around
to buy vegetables and fish.
That night of savouring drugs
when crystal glasses
plunged into the frothy ferment
of impetuous thoughts
for transient bliss
and mattresses were overturned
by the overspill of blood-spattered love.
Then midnights that took off their underclothes.
Oh! Without reminiscence or oblivion
the town starts trudging alone through me.
Myriad scents
kisses
deep comings and goings.
How many are the faces that wiped clean
the body when it broke into sweat?
Do you remember those streets
that are not the least unfamiliar,
streets that are not at all distant
or dimming in sight?
I had stopped telling my story
before the yellow flower wilted,
and then I transformed into you…
Dali’s moustache brushed against my cheek.
Beneath the poem
a city takes off its underskirt.
Someone is erasing a painting…
(Translated from the Malayalam by Dr. Sambhu R)
Grief
There is the dark-green forest
and with it the river arrested in its flow
The diminutive moon I sketched long ago
in my infancy has not grown yet
There are also creeping plants
with flowers bursting from their roots
Caught in the rain, the sunshine shivers
All paths fork back to where they began
A page blanched by the absence
of poetry and love lies faceup
Woes that are yet far away
don’t you silence me thusﾅ
Is there anything more pious than grief?
(Translated from the Malayalam by Dr. Sambhu R)
Where laughter begins…
Once,
cries flew in the breeze
that came down
from mountains.
Beyond the hills
from which unknown
lands do the cries
flutter high as butterflies?
I remembered
the houses there,
saw the fear-filled eyes
inside them.
The howls
of those houses
while demolishing
might have flown outside
but no one heard them!
Now it hurts, tearing my ears…
I told the kids
about the mountains
from where
daylight and rain come
Yonder there ,
there are trees that can cry
Hearing that
the children laughed
Though I know
the laughter is
not as innocent as the cries !
Outside the homes of the cries…
Outside the hills and trees…
In the rooms of the houses,
in the rooms of the rooms
I started laughing
Cries transformed into laughter
(Translated from the Malayalam by Sheeba Dilshad)
About the Author
Akbar is a Malayalam poet. He has published three anthologies of poetry so far- Bamsuri (2001- DC Books), Akbarovsky (2019 – Pappathi Pusthakangal), and Kuyil Oru Pakshi Maathramalla (2023 – Logos Books). He has received numerous awards including Samskara Sahiti Award-2007, Sahitya Award of National Organization for Social Empowerment-2014, International Excellence Award by Excellence Books-2024, and Bharat Sevak Samaj National Award for Literature-2024.
About the Translators
Dr. Sambhu R hails from Kayamkulam, Kerala. He writes both in English and Malayalam. He works as an Asst.Professor of English. Vavval Manushyanum Komaliyum published by Pappathi Pusthakangal in 2019 was his first collection of poems in Malayalam. His poems in English have appeared in Wild Court, Bombay Literary Journal, Muse India, Borderless Journal, Setu and Shot Glass Journal, among others.
Sheeba Dilshad is a bi-lingual poet who writes in Malayalam and English and is also a translator. Her first anthology titled Avasanathe Akashavum Pakshikalum was published in 2020. Now she contributes her poetry to leading periodicals in Malayalam.
