MAYDAY

FOR BINAYAK SEN by T. P. Sabitha

Contributed By:

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.

——————————————————————————-

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.

Return to table of contents for Issue 2 Winter 2010

Filed Under: Poetry

Further Reading

LOVERS IN WINTER by Steven Klepetar

You can tell they are saying goodbye that distance has already swallowed them up, by the way they linger on this cold beach, bare feet stung by the rag end of waves.  She is weeping and he would if he could.  The wind must sound lonely to them and the hungry gulls a provocation about […]

THE WALL OF DEATH by Chris D. Harvey

A long time ago, my father started riding his motorcycle in the Wall of Death at carnivals all over England. Biking round and round in that giant barrel, up and down the steep walls, he thought would be a way to make money fast. Careening one-handed, winning even, still, enough money didn’t come. Death didn’t, […]