by T. P. Sabitha
translated from the Malayalam by T. P. Sabitha and K. Satchidanandan
first published in Mathrubhoomi (May 31- June 6, 2009)
Oblivious fields,
which mother’s milk
does the penury’s sun
boiling in your brimming lap
turn into vapour?
Village, dancing like an oracle
in the festival of green,
which parched infant’s
cure-forsaken fever
makes you tremble in pallor?
My forlorn forest trail
perpetual death lying in wait
by your bare wayside
who does it stalk, crouching
and still, holding its breath?
The scattered rays of the sun
lean as the revolution
that splintered, embarrassed
into the dark prison cell
asked in a panic spell.
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Author’s Note: A medical doctor and human rights activist working in Chattisgarh, India, among the poor, Binayak Sen was wrongly implicated on charges of associating with armed Naxalites against the state and was imprisoned for two years before being released on bail.
