सुदामा पांडेय 'धूमिल'

सुदामा पांडेय 'धूमिल'

Thursday, February 27, 2014

उन्होंने किसी चीज को
सही जगह नहीं रहने दिया
न संज्ञा
न विशेषण
न सर्वनाम
एक समूचा और सही वाक्य
बि ख रगया है
उनका व्याकरण इस देश की
शिराओं में छिपे हुये कारकों का
हत्यारा है
उनकी सख्त पकड़ के नीचे
भूख से मरा हुआ आदमी
इस मौसम का
सबसे दिलचस्प विज्ञापन है और गाय
सबसे सटीक नारा है
वे खेतों मेंभूख और शहरों में

अफवाहों के पुलिंदे फेंकते हैं

Saturday, February 22, 2014

The City, Evening, and an Old Man: Me

I've taken the last  drag
and stubbed out my cigarette in the ashtray,
and now I'm a respectable man
with all the trappings of civility.

When I'm on vacation
I don't hate anyone.
I don't have  any protest march to join.
I've drunk all the liquor
in the bottle marked
and thrown it away in the bathroom.
That's the sum total of my life.
(Like every good citizen
I draw the curtains across my windows
the moment I hear the air-raid siren.
These days it isn't the light outside
but the light inside that's dangerous.)

I haven't done a thing  to deserve
a statue whos unveiling
would make the wise  men of this city
waste a whole busy day.
I've been sitting in a corner of my dinner plate
and leading a very ordinary life.

What I inherited citizenship
in the neighborhood of a jail
and gentlemanliness
in front of a slaughter-house.
I've tied them both to my convenience
and taken  them two steps forward.
The municipal government has taught me
to  stay on the left side of the road.

(To  succeed in life you don't need
to read Dale Carnegie's book
but to understand traffic signs.)

Other than petty lies
I don't know the weight of a gun.
On the face of the traffic policeman
doing his drill in the square
I've always seen the map of democracy.

And now I don't have a single worry,
I  don't have to do a thing.
I've reached the stage in life
when files begin to close.
I'm sitting in my own chair on the veranda
without any qualms.
The sun's setting on the toe of my shoe.
A bugle's  blowing in the distance.
This is the time when the soldiers come back,
and the possessed city
is now slowly turning its madness
into windowpanes and lights.

(Translated from Hindi  by Vinay Dharwadker)