Dear Reader
I sincerely hope you are doing great.
The twenty-first century is marked by its paradoxes. Look at it this way--tremendous technological expansion, gender equations that have begun to change for the better with people more willing to speak and listen, academics being more skill and employment-oriented than ever before and the facilitators and learners are equally enthusiastic about exploring this 'whole new brave world'! It's certainly not that everything is like the fragrant Jasmine flower (I am giving up on roses because of the thorns and lilies as they are so beautifully seated amidst a lake). Today is also the time when people are competing with each other to prove their own superiority, power struggles are not just evident, it has become the mantra for survival and narcissism is more the rule than an exception. And, yet, we believe a positive way of life is of utmost importance.
On one such gloomy day, as I was researching a poem that expresses the twentieth and the twenty-first century at the same time, I chanced upon this poem 'The Flute I would Leave Behind for my daughter' by Ruby Rahman, an East Bengal Poet. I found it interesting in the way it presents the mother-daughter relationship. What is attractive about the poem is that it shares the concern of a mother who is conscious of the changing times and the inadequacy of protection that a mother would like to give to her child. It is feminist in the sense that the poem is by a woman and her concern that if she were to pass away, how is her daughter to survive. I found it so refreshingly fresh that I could not and did not resist the temptation to translate it into Kannada.
Dear reader, I am sharing the English poem which is translated from Bangla by the poet herself and its translation to Kannada by me here with you. I just hope you like the poem.
The flute I would leave behind for my daughter
Ruby Rahman
I wonder, what can I leave behind for my daughter!
I am in my late fifties.
I do not have the ability to buy a flute
that I would offer her when I would leave this world.
My mother had wonderful bright fingers
that danced upon the keys of the piano-
She glowed like a tiger seen in the forest on a moonlit night.
She held up the glorious arrogance of the mount Kanchenjunga
As she stood upright.
But keeping aside all those
She gave me a shawl--
An ancient worn-out shawl
Which she inherited from her father-in-law.
I wrapped up my entire world with this wrapper
in winter and on wet days,
In the days of happiness or days full of dismay.
The houses these days are cloudy and filled with clouds.
The cold winter wind always trespasses into the house
With endless effort, I somehow manage to protect myself
with that worn-out shawl.
As a star-studded sky
The old shawl is gradually getting filled up with numerous holes.
I have not inherited my mother’s instinctive skill of mending;
Cotton derived from lamb’s wool
That could have kept the shawl warm
is unknown these days in the market.
I can only faintly remember a flicker of fire
That I found glowing inside my mother.
Nowadays the houses are too much cloudy
Our days are ridden by bone-chilling cold.
How can I assure myself that
My daughter would be provided with adequate warmth
by that old worn-out shawl?
Or should I ask my mother for that indomitable holy fire
That I found burning within her!
Here is my translation in Kannada👇
ನನ್ನ ಮಗಳಿಗಾಗಿ ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಹೋಗಲಿಚ್ಚಿಸುವ ಕೊಳಲು
‘ಕೊನೆಯದಾಗಿ ನನ್ನ ಮಗಳಿಗೆ ಏನು ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಹೋಗಲಿ! ’
ನನಗೆ ವಯಸ್ಸು ಐವತ್ತೈದು ದಾಟಿಯಾಯಿತು.
ಈ
ಪ್ರಪಂಚ ತೊರೆಯುವ ಮುನ್ನ ಇವಳಿಗೆ ನೀಡಬೇಕೆಂದಿದ್ದ
ಕೊಳಲು ಕೊಳ್ಳುವ ಸಾಮರ್ಥ್ಯ ನನ್ನಲಿಲ್ಲ.
ಸಹಜ
ಸಾಮರ್ಥ್ಯದಿಂದ ಹೊಳೆಯುವ ನನ್ನಮ್ಮನ ಕೈ ಬೆರಳುಗಳು
ಪಿಯಾನೋ ಕೀಲಿಮಣೆಯ ಮೇಲೆ ನರ್ತಿಸುತ್ತವೆ.
ಕಗ್ಗಾಡಿನ ಬೆಳದಿಂಗಳ ರಾತ್ರಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಕಾಣುವ ಪ್ರಜ್ವಲಿಸುವ
ಹುಲಿಯ ಕಣ್ಣಂತಿದ್ದಳು.
ಕಾಂಚನಜುಂಗೆಯ ಅದ್ಭುತ ದಾಷ್ಟ್ರ್ಯವನ್ನು ಹಿಡಿದು
ದಿಟ್ಟವಾಗಿ
ನೇರವಾಗಿ ನಿಂತಿದ್ದಳು.
ಆದರೆ,ಅದನೆಲ್ಲಾ ಬದಿಗೆ ಎತ್ತಿಟ್ಟು
ನನಗೆ ಒಂದು ಶಾಲು ಕೊಟ್ಟಿದ್ದಾಳೆ--
ಒಂದು ಹಳೆಯ ಮಾಸಿದ ಶಾಲು
ಅವಳಿಗೆ ಮಾವನಿಂದ ಪಿತ್ರಾರ್ಜಿತವಾಗಿ
ಸಿಕ್ಕಿದ್ದು.
ಛಳಿಯಾಗಲಿ, ಮಳೆಯಾಗಲಿ
ಖುಷಿಯ
ದಿನವಾಗಲಿ ಅಥವಾ ದಿಗ್ಭ್ರಮೆಯ ದಿನಗಳಲ್ಲೂ
ನನ್ನ
ಪೂರ ಪ್ರಪಂಚಕ್ಕೆ ಇದರಲ್ಲೇ ಕವಚ ಹೊದಿಸಿದೆ ನಾನು.
ಇತ್ತೀಚೆಗೆ ಮೋಡ ಮನೆಯ ಕಟ್ಟಡದ ಒಳಗೆ ಮತ್ತು ಹೊರಗೆ ಆವರಿಸಿಕೊಂಡಿದೆ.
ಮನೆಯನ್ನು
ಕೊರೆಯುವ ಛಳಿ ಯಾವಾಗಲೂ ಅತಿಕ್ರಮಿಸುತ್ತಲೇ ಇರುತ್ತದೆ.
ಕೊನೆಯಿಲ್ಲದ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನದಿಂದ ಈ ಹಳೆಯ
ಶಾಲಿನಿಂದ ಹೇಗೋ ನನ್ನನ್ನು
ಕಾಪಾಡಿಕೊಳ್ಳುತ್ತಿದ್ದೇನೆ.
ನಕ್ಷತ್ರ
ತುಂಬಿದ ಆಕಾಶದಂತೆ ನಿಧಾನವಾಗಿ
ಈ ಹಳೆಯ ಶಾಲು ಅಸಂಖ್ಯಾತ ತೂತಿನಿಂದ ತುಂಬುತ್ತಿದೆ.
ಆದರೆ
ನನಗೆ ನನ್ನಮ್ಮನಂತೆ ಸಹಜವಾಗಿರುವಂತೆ ರಿಪೇರಿ ಮಾಡಲು ಬರುವುದಿಲ್ಲ;
ಕುರಿಯ ಉಣ್ಣೆಯ
ದಾರದ ಬೆಚ್ಚಗಿಡುವ ಶಾಲು ಈಗಿನ ಮಾರುಕಟ್ಟೆಯಲ್ಲಿ
ಸಿಗುವುದೇ
ಗೊತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ.
ನನಗೆ
ಮಸುಕು-ಮಸುಕಾಗಿ ನೆನಪಿರುವುದು
ಒಂದು ಸಣ್ಣ ಬೆಂಕಿಯ ಕಿಡಿ ನನ್ನಮ್ಮನಲ್ಲೂ
ಇದ್ದದ್ದು.
ಈಚೆಗೆ ಮನೆಯ ಸುತ್ತಾ ಮೋಡ ಕವಿದೇ ಇದೆ.
ಮತ್ತೆ
ಬೆಳಗಿನ ಹೊತ್ತು ಕೂಡ ಮೂಳೆ ಕೊರೆಯುವಷ್ಟು ಛಳಿ.
ಹೀಗಿರುವಾಗ,
ಈ ಹಳೆಯ ಶಾಲು ನನ್ನ ಮಗಳನ್ನು ಬೆಚ್ಚಗಿಡುತ್ತದೆಂದು ನನ್ನನ್ನೇ
ನಾನು ಹೇಗೆ ಒಪ್ಪಿಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳಲಿ?
ಅಥವಾ, ನಾನು ಕಂಡ ನನ್ನಮ್ಮನ ಆ ಅದಮ್ಯ ಪವಿತ್ರ ಅಗ್ನಿಯನ್ನು
ಅವಳಿಂದ ಕೇಳಲೇ!
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Thank you for continuing to be the readers of my blog posts. Have a lovely week ahead 🙏💚
You could share your comments directly with me to rekhadatta02@gmail.com or message me @rekhadatta1 on Instagram. I shall send the links to you personally. Thanks for your patience.
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