Poems Of Ammu Deepa

 


Poems Of Ammu Deepa



à´…à´®്à´®ു à´¦ീപയുà´Ÿെ à´•à´µിതകൾ




à´’à´°േ മരം

     

 

à´ªുലരിà´¯ിൽ

 

à´®ീà´¨ുകൾ

à´•ുà´ž്à´žുà´™്ങളെ à´ªാà´±്à´±ുംà´ªോà´²െ

à´®ാനത്à´¤േà´•്à´•് à´’à´´ുà´•്à´•ിà´•്à´•ൊà´£്à´Ÿിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨ു 

 

സന്à´§്യയ്à´•്à´•്‌

 

ഇരുà´£്à´Ÿ à´µാà´ªിളർത്à´¤ി à´’à´¨്à´¨ൊà´¨്à´¨ാà´¯ി à´µിà´´ുà´™്à´™ിà´•്à´•ൊà´£്à´Ÿുà´®ിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨ു

 

à´’à´°േ à´®à´°ം 

à´•ിà´³ിà´•à´³െ.

 

 

The same tree

 

 

Like fish winnowing larvae

to spew them the sky

 

In the dusk,

Opening its dark mouth

kept swallowing them one by one

 

the same trees

the birds

 

 

ഇറുà´•െ

   

 

à´ªെà´Ÿ്à´Ÿെà´¨്à´¨ുà´¸ംà´­à´µിà´š്à´š

à´•ൊà´Ÿുà´™്à´•ാà´±്à´±്

വൻമരത്à´¤െ

വട്à´Ÿംà´šുà´´à´±്à´±ി

 

മരം

സർവ്വശക്à´¤ിà´¯ുà´®െà´Ÿുà´¤്à´¤്

à´•ിà´³ിà´•്à´•ൂà´Ÿിà´¨െ

ഇറുà´•െà´ª്à´ªിà´Ÿിà´š്à´šു

 

à´•ിà´³ിà´•്à´•ൂà´Ÿ്

à´•ിà´³ിà´•à´³െ

 

à´•ിà´³ികൾ

à´•ിà´³ിà´®ുà´Ÿ്à´Ÿà´¯െ

 

à´•ിà´³ിà´®ുà´Ÿ്à´Ÿ

à´œീവനെ

 

à´œീവൻ...

 

ഉലയുà´¨്à´¨ മരക്à´•ൊà´®്à´ªിà´²ിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨്

à´¨ിà´²ംà´ªൊà´¤്തലുകൾക്à´•െà´²്à´²ാà´®ൊà´Ÿുà´•്à´•à´®ുà´³്à´³ 

ആദിമനിശബ്ദതയെ

 

ഇറുà´•െà´ª്à´ªിà´Ÿിà´š്à´šു.

 

 

Tightly

 



The sudden burst of

a gusty wind

grabbed the giant tree

and spun it around

 

The tree

with all its strength

hugged the nest tight.

 

The nest,

the birds

 

The birds,

the egg

 

The egg,

life

 

Life...

Perched on

the swaying limb

hugged tight

the primordial silence  that follows 

all downfalls

 

 

à´°ാà´µിà´²െ

 

 

ഇടങ്à´•à´¯്à´¯ിൽ

à´¸ൂà´°്യനെ à´Žà´Ÿുà´¤്à´¤ുയർത്à´¤ി

വലങ്à´•à´¯്à´¯ിà´²െà´•്à´•ൊà´Ÿുà´µാà´³ിà´¨ാൽ

നടുà´•്à´•ാà´ž്à´žു à´µെà´Ÿ്à´Ÿി

ഇരുà´®ുà´±ിà´¯ാà´•്à´•ി

à´…à´¤ിà´²ൊà´°ുà´®ുà´±ിà´¯െà´Ÿുà´¤്à´¤്

അവൾ à´šിà´°à´µിà´¤്à´¤ുà´Ÿà´™്à´™ി

 

à´¤ാà´´െ വച്à´š à´ª്à´²േà´±്à´±ിà´²േà´•്à´•്

à´µെà´³ിà´š്à´šം

ഉതിർന്à´¨ുà´µീà´£ുà´•ൊà´£്à´Ÿിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨ു

 

 

Early morning

 

 

Raising the sun

In her left palm

With the hack knife

ln the right hand

Cracked it open

Right at the centre

Into two even hemisphere

Taking the hemisphere

In her hand

She began to scrape it

 

Scraps of light

Kept dropping

To the plate underneath.

1.In The Stairwell

 

Each and every woman

Of different era

Wielding broomsticks

Squatting do

Sweeping clean close to the floor

Mopping wet and dried

There accumulated in piles

A little brass-scented darkness.

 

Translation by Satchidanandan

 

à´ªുളഞ്à´ž്

 

à´°à´•്തമണ്à´¡à´²ി à´¦ംà´¶ിà´š്à´š്

മരിà´š്à´šു à´ªോà´¯ à´šേà´š്à´šി

à´’à´°ു സന്à´§്യക്à´•്‌

à´µീà´Ÿ്à´Ÿിൽ വന്à´¨ു à´•േà´±ി

 

à´šേà´š്à´šിà´•്à´•്

à´°à´•്‌തമണ്à´¡à´²ിà´¯ുà´Ÿെ

à´°ൂപമാà´¯ിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨ു

 

വടക്à´•ാറയുà´Ÿെ ജനാലഴിà´¯ിൽ à´šുà´±്à´±ിà´•്à´•ിà´Ÿà´¨്à´¨്

à´…à´•à´¤്à´¤േà´¯്à´•്à´•ു à´¶്രമപ്à´ªെà´Ÿ്à´Ÿു à´¨ോà´•്à´•ുà´¨്നതിà´¨ിà´Ÿà´¯ിൽ

à´…à´¤് à´¤ാà´´േà´¯്à´•്à´•ൂർന്à´¨ു à´µീà´£ു

 

à´œീà´µിà´š്à´šിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨ à´¨ാà´³ിൽ

à´…à´Ÿിà´š്à´šും à´¤ുà´Ÿà´š്à´šും

à´•à´£്à´£ാà´Ÿിà´ªോà´²െ à´®ിà´¨ുà´ª്à´ªിà´š്à´šെà´Ÿുà´¤്à´¤ തളത്à´¤ിൽ

à´’à´°ിà´ž്à´š് à´®ുà´¨്à´¨ോà´Ÿ്à´Ÿാà´¯ാà´¨ാà´µാà´¤െ

à´•ിà´Ÿà´¨്à´¨ിà´Ÿà´¤്à´¤ു à´•ിà´Ÿà´¨്à´¨്

à´ªുളഞ്à´žുà´•ൊà´£്à´Ÿിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨ു

 

Slithering

 

My Sister

Smitten to death by a bloody Viper

Crept home in an evening.

 

She was

The bloody Viper in shape

 

Coiling round the Northern room's Windowbar

And casting a strenuous look inside

It slipped down

 

Slithering still lying there

Unable to move an inch further

On the Crystalline floor lobby

She had kept polished

Sweeping and Scrubbing

Alive. ...all Her days!

 

Translated by M. Sabarinath

 

à´’à´°ാൾ

 

 

വളച്à´šു à´•െà´Ÿ്à´Ÿിà´¯ à´šെà´®്പരത്à´¤ിà´•്à´•à´®ാà´¨ം à´•à´Ÿà´¨്à´¨്

à´µെà´¯ിà´²ിൽ à´µിയർത്à´¤്

à´šെà´°ിà´ª്à´ªിà´Ÿാà´¤െ

à´’à´°ാൾ വരും

 

à´µെà´¨്à´¤ à´•ാലടികൾ

à´•ുളത്à´¤ിà´²െà´¨്നപോൽ

തളത്à´¤ിà´²െ തണുà´ª്à´ªിൽ നനച്à´š്

ആട്à´Ÿിà´¯ാà´Ÿ്à´Ÿി

à´šാà´°à´Ÿിà´¤്à´¤ിà´£്ണയിൽ à´…à´¯ാà´³ിà´°ിà´•്à´•ും

 

à´¨ീà´²ം à´®ുà´•്à´•ിà´¯

à´®ുà´£്à´Ÿിà´¨്à´±െ à´•ോà´¨്തല

à´¬്à´²ൗà´¸ിà´¨ുà´³്à´³ിൽ à´¤ിà´°ുà´•ി

à´®ൊà´¨്തയിൽ à´•à´°ിà´™്à´™ാà´²ിà´¯ുà´®ാà´¯്

à´…à´®്മമ്à´® വരും

 

à´…à´®്മമ്മയ്à´•്à´•് à´Žà´¨്à´¤ിà´·്à´Ÿà´®ാണയാà´³െ !

à´žാൻ à´…à´¤്à´­ുതപ്à´ªെà´Ÿും

 

à´…à´¤്à´°േം à´ªാà´²ൊà´´ിà´š്à´š à´šാà´¯ à´…à´¯ാൾക്à´•േ à´•ൊà´Ÿുà´¤്à´¤ിà´Ÿ്à´Ÿുà´³്à´³ൂ..

 

à´Žà´°ിà´µുà´³്à´³ ആട്à´Ÿിറച്à´šിà´•്à´•à´±ിà´¯ിൽ

പപ്പടം à´šേർത്à´¤ു à´ªൊà´Ÿിà´š്à´šà´¯ാൾ ഉരുà´Ÿ്à´Ÿിà´•്à´•à´´ിà´•്à´•ുà´®്à´ªോൾ à´…à´®്മമ്മയുà´Ÿെ à´®ുà´–ം 

à´¤െà´³ിà´¯ും

 

à´…à´¯ാൾ

ആരെà´¨്à´¨ോ

à´Žà´¨്à´¤െà´¨്à´¨ോ

ഓർത്തതിà´²്à´² à´žാൻ

ഇടയ്à´•്à´•െà´²്à´²ാം à´…à´®്മമ്à´®

à´®ൂà´•്à´•് à´ªിà´´ിà´¯ുà´•à´¯ും

à´•à´£്à´£ു à´¤ുà´Ÿà´¯്à´•്à´•ുà´•à´¯ും à´šെà´¯്à´¯ും

 

à´•്à´°à´®േà´£ അവർ à´°à´£്à´Ÿുà´ªേà´°ും

à´Žà´¨്à´¨െമറന്à´¨ു à´¤ുà´Ÿà´™്à´™ും

 

à´šൂà´Ÿാà´±ിà´¤്à´¤ുà´Ÿà´™്à´™ിà´¯ à´¸ൂà´°്യനെ തലയിà´²േà´±്à´±ി

ഉറുà´®്à´ªുകൾ വരിവരിà´¯ാà´¯ി à´ªോണത് à´•ാà´£ാൻ പടിà´ž്à´žാà´±േ à´®ുà´±്റത്à´¤േà´¯്à´•്à´•് à´žാà´¨ോà´Ÿും

 

à´Žà´ª്à´ªോà´´ാണയാൾ  à´ªോà´•ുà´•

à´Žà´¨്à´¨ുà´žാൻ à´…à´±ിà´¯ുà´•à´¯ിà´²്à´²

 

à´…à´®്മമ്à´® മരിà´š്à´šà´ª്à´ªോൾ

à´šെà´®്പരത്à´¤ിà´•്à´•à´®ാà´¨ം à´•à´Ÿà´¨്à´¨്

à´…à´¯ാൾ വരുà´¨്നതും à´•ാà´¤്à´¤്

à´ªുറത്à´¤േà´•്à´•ു à´¨ോà´•്à´•ി

à´•ാൽച്à´šുവട്à´Ÿിൽ

à´žാà´¨ിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨ു

 

à´…

à´¯ാ

ൾ

à´µ

à´¨്à´¨ി

à´²്à´²

 

à´¶്à´°ാà´¦്ധത്à´¤ിà´¨്റന്à´¨്  à´…à´®്മമ്മയുà´Ÿെ തലയിണക്à´•à´Ÿിà´¯ിൽ à´¨ിà´¨്à´¨ുà´•ിà´Ÿ്à´Ÿിà´¯

à´ªിà´ž്à´žിà´¯ à´’à´°ാൽബത്à´¤ിൽ

 

à´…à´®്മമ്മയ്à´•്à´•ു à´®ുà´®്à´ªേ മരിà´š്à´šുà´ªോà´¯ à´’à´°ാà´³ാà´¯ി

à´¨ൊà´Ÿിà´¯ിà´Ÿà´¯ിൽ

à´’à´¨്à´¨ുà´•à´£്à´Ÿു

 

à´šിà´°ിà´š്à´šു

 

Someone

 

Crossing the bend hibiscus fencing

Someone sweat and barefoot

Will come .

 

He will soak his scorching feet

In the cool verandah

As if it moves in the pond.

 

Grandma will come holding  tip of her blue dipped dothi

above the blouse

with a glass of boiled water.

 

 

How much Grandma loves him!

I wonder.

 

She serves him with the best tea

With plenty of milk.

I will run to the eastern courtyard

To see the ants marching

Lifting the setting sun.

 

I never know when he returns

 

When Grandma died

I waited for him to come

Crossing the hibiscus fencing.

 

But he didn't come

 

During the rituals after  funeral

I met him in an old album

Under Grandma's pillow.

 

A glimpse of him

Whom had passed away before Grandma.

 

He smiled at me

Grandma's face lightens up  when she see him

Tasting mutton curry with Pappad.

 

Sometimes Grandma will wipe out

Tears and rub her nose.

 

à´Žà´µിà´Ÿെà´¯ോ

 

à´¦േഹത്à´¤െà´µിà´Ÿെà´¯ോ

ഉറുà´®്à´ªു à´•à´Ÿിà´š്à´šà´¤ിൻ à´¨ീà´±്റൽ

 

പക്à´·െ,ഉറുà´®്à´ªെà´µിà´Ÿെ?

 

à´•ുà´±േ à´¨േà´°ം തപ്à´ªിയപ്à´ªോൾ

ഉറുà´®്à´ªിà´¨െà´•്à´•ിà´Ÿ്à´Ÿി

 

à´…à´ª്à´ªോൾ,à´¦േഹമെà´µിà´Ÿെ?

 

à´µേദന à´®ാà´¤്à´°ം

അനന്തതയിà´²െà´µിà´Ÿെà´¯ോ

തങ്à´™ി à´¨ിൽക്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨ു

 

Somewhere

 

Somewhere

On my body

the sting of an ant.

But, where is the ant

that  stung  me?

 

Located tha ant

after a long search.

 

But, then,

Where is the body?

 

Only the pain

hovers somewhere 

In infinity.Slowly they will forget me

 

ജമീà´²ാà´¤്à´¤

 

 

 

à´…à´ª്à´°à´¤്à´¤െ à´¬ംà´—്à´²ാà´µുà´µീà´Ÿ്à´Ÿിà´²െ

ജമീà´²ാà´¤്à´¤

à´’à´°ിà´•്à´•à´²ിറങ്à´™ി വന്à´¨ു

'à´®ുà´•à´³്‍à´¨ിലയിà´²െ ജനല്‍ à´¤ുറന്à´¨ിà´Ÿ്à´Ÿുà´•ൂà´Ÿെ?'

à´¸്à´±്à´±െയര്‍à´•െà´¯്à´¸ിà´¨്‍à´±െ à´¤ിà´°ിà´µിà´²െ

ഉയരത്à´¤ിà´²ുà´³്à´³ ജനല്‍ à´šൂà´£്à´Ÿിà´•്à´•ാà´Ÿ്à´Ÿി

à´¬ുà´°്‍à´–à´¯ുà´Ÿെ à´®ുഖപടം à´ªിറകിà´²േà´•്à´•ിà´Ÿ്à´Ÿുà´•ൊà´£്à´Ÿ്

അവര്‍ à´šോà´¦ിà´š്à´šു.

'à´®ുà´¨്‍à´ªിà´µിà´Ÿെ à´¤ാമസിà´š്ചവര്‍

à´…à´¤് à´¤ുറന്à´¨ിà´Ÿുà´®ാà´¯ിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨ു.'

 

à´…à´™്ങനെà´¯ൊà´°ു ജനല്‍

à´ˆ à´µാà´Ÿà´•à´µീà´Ÿ്à´Ÿിà´²ുà´³്ളത്

ആദ്യമാà´¯് à´Žà´¨്‍à´±െ à´¶്à´°à´¦്ധയിà´²്‍à´ª്à´ªെà´Ÿ്à´Ÿു.

 

'à´“ à´¤ുറന്à´¨ിà´Ÿാം'

à´®ുഖപടം à´¤ാà´´്à´¤്à´¤ിà´¯ിà´Ÿ്à´Ÿ് സന്à´¤ോà´·à´¤്à´¤ോà´Ÿെ

അവര്‍ à´¤ിà´°ിà´š്à´šുà´ªോà´¯ി.

 

à´ªൊà´Ÿിà´ªിà´Ÿിà´š്à´šു à´•ിà´Ÿà´¨്à´¨ à´¸്à´±്à´±െയര്‍à´•െà´¯്à´¸്

à´¶്രമപ്à´ªെà´Ÿ്à´Ÿു കയറി

à´žാà´¨ാ ജനാലയ്à´•്à´•à´°ിà´•ിà´²െà´¤്à´¤ി.

 

à´šെà´±ുà´¤ും വര്‍ണച്à´šിà´²്à´²ുà´•à´³്‍ പതിà´š്à´šà´¤ുà´®ാà´¯

à´­ംà´—ിà´¯ുà´³്à´³ à´œാലകം.

 

à´•ുà´¤ിà´•ാà´²്‍ à´ªൊà´•്à´•ിà´¨ിà´¨്à´¨്

à´•ൈà´¯െà´¤്à´¤ിà´š്à´š് à´žാനതു à´¤ുറന്à´¨ു.

 

 à´¨ിറയെ à´•ാà´¯്à´•à´³്‍ à´¤ൂà´™്à´™ിà´•്à´•ിà´Ÿà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨

à´ªേà´°à´•്à´•ൊà´®്à´ªുà´•à´³്‍à´•്à´•ിà´Ÿà´¯ിà´²ൂà´Ÿെ

ജമീà´²ാà´¤്à´¤ കയറിà´ª്à´ªോà´¯ 

à´µീà´Ÿു à´žാà´¨്‍ à´•à´£്à´Ÿു.   

 

à´®ുà´•à´³്‍à´¨ിലയിà´²െ à´šെà´±ിà´¯ à´œാലകത്à´¤ിà´²ൂà´Ÿെ

à´¤ാà´¤്തയോà´Ÿു à´°ൂപസാà´¦ൃà´¶്യമുà´³്à´³ à´’à´°ു à´¸്à´¤്à´°ീ

à´Žà´¨്à´¨െà´¤്തന്à´¨െ   à´‰à´±്à´±ുà´¨ോà´•്à´•ി à´¨ിà´²്‍à´•്à´•ുà´¨്നതാà´¯ും.

 

Jameelaattha

 

Jameelaattha who lives

In the bungalow hearby

Came down one day

'Can't you leave that window upstairs open? '

-she asked, pointing to the window

at the turn of the staircase moving her burkha aside to reveal her face

"Those who had stayed here earlier used to keep it open "

 

For the first time I noticed that window in this rented house:

Ok, I shall"

She covered her face again and went back pleased

 

I braved the dust-laden sraircase and reached for the window

a beautiful, little window

made of stained glass

I stood on my heels, reached towards it and left it open

 

Through the branches of guava laden  with fruit I got a  glimpse of the house in to wich jameelattha had  vanished

I saw too a lady looking like 'thattha ' peering at me thrrough peering at me through the smell window upstairs

Noon

 

The noon they burried you

I went and sat

Near we used to sit once

 

In the blue of the petals

of the  water blooms -

your sorrowful eyes

 

A bird walks on the water lily leaves

In it I see intense care

of mine

Of my love for you

 

The leaf scrapes

On the edge of the nail

 

A spart of blood

Burts

From my heart

 

Translated by K satchidanandan

 

à´ªിറന്à´¨ à´µീà´Ÿ്à´Ÿിൽ

 

 

 

à´®ുà´Ÿിà´¯ിൽ à´®ുà´²്ലമാà´² à´šൂà´Ÿി

à´ªിറന്à´¨ à´µീà´Ÿ്à´Ÿിൽ à´¨ിà´¨്à´¨ിറങ്à´™ിà´¯ിà´Ÿ്à´Ÿ്

വർഷം പതിനഞ്à´š്

 

ആരോà´Ÿും പറയാà´¤െ

à´† à´µീà´Ÿ് ആങ്ങളയ്‌à´•്à´•െà´´ുà´¤ിà´•്à´•ൊà´Ÿുà´¤്തതിൽപ്à´ªിà´¨്à´¨െ

à´•ൂർപ്à´ªിà´š്à´š à´®ുà´–à´µുà´®ാà´¯ി വർഷത്à´¤ിà´²ൊà´¨്à´¨ോ à´°à´£്à´Ÿോ തവണ à´®ാà´¤്à´°ം

à´§ൃà´¤ിà´¯ിൽ  à´•േà´±ിà´š്à´šെà´²്à´²ും

 

à´®ാà´±ാà´¨ുà´³്à´³ à´¤ുà´£ിà´•à´³ും à´¤ോർത്à´¤ുà´®ുà´£്à´Ÿും

à´•ുà´¤്à´¤ിà´¨ിറച്à´š വയറൻബാà´—്

 à´•ോà´£ിà´š്à´šുവട്à´Ÿിà´²ാà´£് à´¤ിà´°ുà´•ി വയ്à´•്à´•ുà´•

 

à´Žà´¨്നത്à´¤േà´¯ും à´ªോà´²െ à´°ാà´¤്à´°ി,

à´®േà´²ു à´•à´´ുà´•ി വന്à´¨്

കലമ്പൽ à´•ൂà´Ÿ്à´Ÿുà´¨്à´¨ à´•ുà´Ÿ്à´Ÿികൾക്à´•്

à´…à´¤്à´¤ാà´´ം à´µിളമ്à´ªാൻ à´¤ുà´Ÿà´™്à´™ുà´¨്à´¨

à´¤ിà´°à´•്à´•ു à´ªിà´Ÿിà´š്à´š à´¨േà´°à´¤്à´¤്

കറണ്à´Ÿ് à´ªോà´•ും

 

à´žാà´¨ിà´¨്à´¨േവരെ à´•à´£്à´Ÿിà´Ÿ്à´Ÿിà´²്à´²ാà´¤്à´¤,

 

à´…à´¸ുà´–à´•à´°à´®ാà´¯ മണം à´ª്രസരിà´ª്à´ªിà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨

à´† à´•ുà´ž്à´žു à´ª്à´°ാà´£ിയപ്à´ªോൾ

à´•ൃà´¤്യമാà´¯ി

à´Žà´¨്à´±െ à´ªിൻ à´•à´´ുà´¤്à´¤ിൽ

 à´ªാà´±ി à´µà´¨്à´¨ിà´°ിà´•്à´•ും

 

House I was born in

 

 

 

It's fifteen years

 

since I stepped

 

out of the house

 

I was born in

 

braiding jasmine on hair.

 

 

I drop in now

 

once or twice a year

 

with a sulking face

 

and hurried steps

 

after its ownership

 

was quietly changed

 

to my brother's name.

 

 

The large bag stuffed

with clothes to change

 

and a bath towel was

 

always squeezed

 

into a spot

 

under the stairs.

 

 

at night, on all days

 

when its time

 

to serve dinner to kids

 

who raise a racket

 

after having bathed,

 

there will be a power outage

 

 

and a tiny stink bug

 

I am yet to see

 

which suffuses

 

an unsettling smell

would flit

 

with precision

 

to settle

 

on the

 

back

 

of my

 

neck.

 

About Author

She was born at Pattambi in Palakkad district. Primary education at G. U. P School Kizhayur and studied at  Higher Secondary School , Srikrishnapuram . BSc Zoology from Ottapalam NSS College, MA and MPhil degrees in Malayalam Literature from University of Calicut Campus. She is a research student at University of Calicut on Micro Politics and Aesthetic Philosophy in OV Vijayan's Short Stories.Poems have been published in various periodicals for fifteen years. The first volume is Karinkutty (2019, DC Books) and the second volume is Irikkapporuthi (2022, DC Books). Poems have been translated into various Indian languages ​​and English. She is also an illustrator.

 

 

 

 


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