Dr Santosh Bakaya translates into Hindi one of her poems from the Amazon bestseller poetry chapbook Vodka by the Volga, which she co-authored with Dr Ampat Koshy.
The sun had sunk below the horizon,
a soft, gentle breeze caressed your cheek.
“Hey, was Rasputin real?
Was he a clairvoyant? A monk?”
You were taken aback by my unexpected questions
as the muddy water of the creek
fronting us became a golden-green
as you looked at a chirpy chaffinch
carrying a twig in its beak.
A robin tickled a little song,
and a host of memories were effortlessly pickled.
It was in that long bygone age that you sat outside
the shepherd’s shack and sang and sang
as I poured hot, steaming soup in two mugs.
The tottering bridge in the distance
was mantled in a gathering mist
and you sang and sang.
Was it just your passion?
Were you singing of some mystic lore?
Some sort of esoteric symbolism that had caught your fancy?
Or just an interpretation of life?
That expression on your face, was it ecstasy?
You just sat there and improvised,
expressions well-disguised.
What dimly shadowed emotion flitted across your face?
“Can you put some Pushkin in my soup?”
You suddenly asked with a twinkle.
“Huh!” I gaped, while you looked and looked
at the torrid undulations of the river – utterly lost.
A gnarled hand appeared from under his cloak,
to raise itself in a salute.
“Doesn’t he look like Rasputin?”
Rasputin had really captured my
imagination.
“His teeth are almost serrated.” You
remarked,
looking at me, bemused,
as my eyes inspected the shepherd’s tangled beard.
Dodging the serrated edges of life,
I forage for precious tidbits and still find you,
solidly stationed on my turf, lost in your contemplation
of Pushkin.
सूर्य श्रितिज के नीचे विलीन हो चुका था
और एक सुखद हवा का झोंका तुम्हारे गाल को सहला रहा था
धीरे…धीरे…धीरे…
“क्या रस्पोटिन्न वास्तव में कोई व्यक्ति था?
क्या वह साधु था? भविष्यवक्ता था?”
मेरे अचानक पूछे प्रश्नों से तुम भोंचके मुझे देखते रहे,
बस देखते रहे ।
हमारे नजदीक वाले तालाब का मटियाला
पानी अचानक सुनहरा – हरा हो गया ।
तुम एक नन्ही सी चिड़िया को निहारते रहे ,
बस निहारते ही रहे,
जो अपनी नन्ही सी चोंच में एक नन्हे से तिनके को लेकर
हवा में स्वच्छंद विचरण कर रही थी ।
हजारों भूली बिसरी यादें फिर कहीं विलुप्त हो गईं।
यह उन बीते हुए दिनों की बात है
जब तुम एक गडरिए की कुटिया के सामने बैठे गा रहे थे ।
बस गा रहे थे ।
और मै दो प्यालों में सूप डाल रही थी।
दूर का वह टूटा फूटा पुल कोहरे में कहीं खो चुका था और तुम बस गा रहे थे ।बस गा रहे थे ।
क्या वह मात्र तुम्हारा जज़्बा था ?
क्या उस गीत के पीछे कोई रहस्यमई कहानी थी ?
क्या वह किसी बात का प्रतीक था?
चेहरे का वह भाव क्या अपार खुशी का था?
बस तुम वहां बैठे रहे अपने जज्बातों को छुपाते हुए।
“क्या तुम थोड़ा सा पुश्किन मेरे सूप में डाल सकती हो?” तुमने अनायास पूछा
और मै तुम्हे टुकर टुकर बस देखती रही । बस देखती रही।
मेरी मुस्कान आश्चर्य में बदल गई जब पास ही बकरियों को चराते हुए गडरिए ने
अपने चोगे में से एक झुरियों से भरा हुआ हाथ निकला और तुम्हे सैल्यूट किया।
“यह व्यक्ति रस्पयुतिन्न जैसा लगता है, है ना?”
रस्पुतिन्न मेरे मस्तिष्क पर हावी हो चुका था।
“इसके दांत कितने ऊबर खाबर है “तुमने कहा था।
ज़िन्दगी के ऊबर खाबड़ किनारों पर अभी भी तुम मुझे खड़े हुऐ दिख जाते हो।
पुश्किन के खयालों में।
Dr Santosh Bakaya is the author of three mystery novels for young adults, and a book of essays titled Flights From My Terrace, which was recently published as an e-book on Smashwords. Her poetic biography of Mahatma Gandhi, Ballad Of Bapu has been published by Vitasta Publishers, Delhi, India in May 2015 and has been receiving rave reviews from everywhere. Although a Political theorist, with a doctorate in political theory, it is literature which has been her first love. She was awarded the Reuel international award for language and literature 2014 for her long poem Oh Hark!, which forms part of the Significant Anthology. Many of her poems have figured in the highly commended category in Destiny Poets, a UK based website and many are part of international anthologies. Right now, she is giving the final touches to her satirical novel, tentatively titled Sanakpur Shenanigans.
All Posts of Santosh Bakaya
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