a trembling voice
will enter the house
calling ''baboo...''
enters the granny
enter the scents
every time
granny enters
granny has two types of
fragrances
one her own-
a cocktail of the sacred ash and the
betal leaf
the other
the fragrance of her affection
and her bag of affection has different fragrances
every time
she steps in
different scents
step in
banana chips
fried in coconut oil
oranges
sweet tamarind
fried fish
granny's call
never enters
the house
with a scentless bag
granny had a
sky of words
and a sun too
once in a while
the sun would rise
in my own little world
to reveal several faces
so many faces
so many people
krishna draped in golden silk
karna crying like a river
ekalavya with a broken finger
the princess with fluttering wings
aswathama roaming with pussy wounds
sita swallowed by the doubting rama
poonthanam pacing with a brimming pot of wisdom
the madman of naaranathu rolling stone.
so many people
so many faces
my world
was a festival of faces
lit by granny's sun
leaving behind
her scents and
her sun
granny vanished
one day
today
in my mind
full of images
granny is
yet another image
did i say
granny possessed a
single fragrance?
no
granny had different scents
her head
smelt the
fried coconut
face
with the fragrance of sandal
armpit
smelt of sweat
breasts
fragrant with the herb
fingers
with the touch of tulsi
her feet
fragrant with the roots
the scent i like of her -
the fragrance of the breeze
blowing through the hole of her drooping earlobe.
because
the blowing breeze
also reeks with the fragrance
of her calling my name...'baboo'.
@
Translated into english - jhnani
’பாட்டி மணம்’ கவிதையின் ஆங்கில மொழிபெயர்ப்பு
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