നിഴൽ

 

The different facets of the woman, as the poet sees her through the different stages, or rather, the different ages, of his life, is the stream of thought in the poem, Nizhal (Shadow). He sees her as a mother, in the different hues of nature, as a lover, as an idol and then, at last, he sees himself in her.

His first knows, experiences and understands the woman as his mother who nurtures him and feeds him with the milk of love. As he evolves, he sees her in everything that is beautiful around him – in the beauty of the moon, in the moonlight and the twilights, in the smiling curve of the flower and the rainbow.

When she becomes his lover, he cannot part with her even for a moment. He holds on to her tight even in his sleep so they cannot be separated. Her beauty is so divine, her heartbeats become the music that turns his nights into a celebration of dreams.

The golden idol that he creates of her adorns the ivory towers he raises for her. Worshipping her, he revels in ecstasy. For him, the dark clouds and even the darkness in death are but her soft, dark tresses that would send thrills through his body.

In his blissful reverie, the poet finds in his beloved the purity of truth as well as bliss. Only to wake up and realise that the epitome of sensuousness that he held in his arms was nothing but a fragment of his own reflection – a myth!

I read through the poem several times. I feel there’s a catch here – a flip side to the poem. On the first reading, as I rake the top layers of the poem, what surfaces is a disillusionment of the poet. A realisation that what he believed to be holding passionately on to didn’t actually exist. Or, perhaps, it is an acceptance that his expectation was too much – much more than what could be realised. Or is it a disenchantment with the woman herself?

On the other hand, is the poet – as is typical of him – flitting from the material, to the sensuous, and then to the philosophical and the spiritual? Does he move from one to the other until the defining lines between any one and the other fades? Until there is only a oneness that needs no definition?

I am intrigued. And that, perhaps, is the intent of the poem – creating an enigma which encourages the reader to feel the impact rather than come to a conclusion.

Sudarsana Kumar’s intense, yet subdued, rendition of the poem brings out its vivid descriptions and understated emotions.

SW · Nizhal | K. T. Krishna Variar | K. A. Sudarsana Kumar | PC: Gerd Altmann?Pixabay

 നിഴൽ

 

അമ്മയായഭിമുഖം

   കണ്ടു ഞാനാദ്യം നിന്നെ,

സ്തന്യമായ് പ്രേമത്തിൻ്റെ

   പാലാഴി ഞാനുൾക്കൊണ്ടു

സന്ധ്യയായുഷസ്സായി-

   പ്പൗർണ്ണമീനിലാവായി-

ക്കണ്ടു നിൻ മന്ദസ്മിതം

   മലരായ് മഴവില്ലായ്

നിത്യകാമുകി! ചെറ്റും

   പിരിയാൻ കെല്പില്ലാതെ

നിദ്രയിൽപോലും നിന്നെ

   മുറുകെപ്പുണർന്നു ഞാൻ.

സ്വർഗ്ഗസുന്ദരി! നിൻ്റെ

   ഹൃൽസ്‌പന്ദസംഗീതങ്ങൾ

സ്വപ്നലാലസമെൻ്റെ

   രാവിനുത്സവമേകി!

ദന്തഗോപുരങ്ങളിൽ

   സ്വർണ്ണവിഗ്രഹം തീർത്തു

നിന്നെ ഞാനാരാധിച്ചു

   നിർവൃതിലയമാർന്നു.

മൃതിയിൽ, കാർമേഘത്തി-

   ലിരുളിൽ ബിംബിച്ചതു

സഖി! നിൻ കാർകൂന്തലായ്

   കണ്ടു കോൾമയിർകൊണ്ടു

സത്യവുമാനന്ദവു-

   മോമനേ! നീ മാത്രമെ-

ന്നുൾത്തട്ടിലുറപ്പിച്ചു

   വിശ്രമിച്ചുണർന്നപ്പോൾ,

ഞെട്ടിപ്പോയ്; ഞാൻ പുൽകിയ

   ലാവണ്യത്തിടമ്പെൻ്റെ

മിഥ്യയാം പ്രതിച്ഛായ

   മാത്രമായിരുന്നല്ലോ!

© 1990 KTK

സ്‌മൃതിപുരസ്കാര സ്വീകർത്താക്കൾ

   

K V Ramakrishnan
Poet, Translator & Teacher
(2025)

Dr. M Leelavathy
Writer & Literary Critic
(2024)

N K Desam
Poet & Literary Critic
(2023)

Smrtipuraskaram 2025

K. T. Krishna Variar Smrtipuraskaram 2025 presented to K. V. Ramakrishnan

Poet, translator, academician and former assistant editor of Mathrubhumi Weekly Shri. K. V. Ramakrishnan received the K. T. Krishna Variar Smrtipuraskaram 2025 at a simple and solemn function held at the former’s residence at Thrissur. The third edition of the poetry award, which includes a commemorative plaque and a cash prize of Rs. 30,000, honours Shri. Ramakrishnan’s lifetime work and contribution to Malayalam literature.

The Smrtipuraskaram instituted in memory of K. T. Krishna Variar, poet, translator, engineer and management expert, by his family, was presented on December 6, 2025, by Jayasree Variar, the late poet’s wife, to Shri. Ramakrishnan in the presence of their families, close friends and associates from the literary field. The first edition of the award was received by the late poet N. K. Desam and the second by Dr. M. Leelavathy.

The function began with a short invocation followed by a brief insight into the late poet’s life and works as well as into the three-year journey of the award instituted in his memory. Guruvayur Devaswom Chairman Dr. V. K. Vijayan gave a short introduction of the awardee, Sri. K. V. Ramakrishnan, which was replete with interesting anecdotes from KVR’s days as a teacher and his life as a writer. 

In his reply speech, KVR was eloquent about his earliest meeting with the late poet which steadily and gradually grew over time to become a lasting friendship. The programme concluded with a short and heartfelt vote of thanks. The setting was informal. The ambience was warm. The evening was delightful with lots of pleasantries exchanged over refreshments by the guests with Shri. K. V. Ramakrishnan and his ever graceful wife, Smt. Shantha.

K. V. Ramakrishnan is a much-awarded writer with an accolade-speckled writing journey. He has received the Kerala Sahithya Akademi Award (for his work Aksharavidya), Kanaka Shri Award (Kottum Chiriyum), Kakkad Award, State Bank of India Sahithya Puraskaram and Moodadi Damodaran Award (Rajashilpi). His long list of awards also includes N. N. Kakkad Award, Meloor Damodaran Award, V. T. Bhattathiripad Smaraka Puraskaram, Dr. C. P. Menon Smaraka Puraskaram, Deviprasadam Trust Olappamanna Puraskaram, the first ever Deshabhimani Kavithapuraskaram, Ankanam Shamsuddeen Puraskaram, Poonthanam Kavithapuraskaram, and many others.

Varanda Ganga, Agnishuddhi, Kedavilakku, Naazhikavatta, Chathurangam, and Puthiya Sarathi are some of his poetry collections. One of his most recent poetry collections is K. V. Ramakrishnante Kavithakal. Kavithayum Thaalavum and Kavyachinthakal are two of his essay collections. His works of translation include ‘Rabindranath Tagore’ and ‘Dracula’, which was written decades ago and is still widely read across generations. Kanal Chuvadukal is his autobiography.

KVR’s career as an academician started as a Lecturer in English at Mar Athanasius College, Kothamangalam, from where he moved on to Shri Krishna College, Guruvayur, as English Professor. He has served as Assistant Editor at Mathrubhumi Weekly and later, as Manager at the Publication Division of Kottakkal Arya Vaidya Sala. He has functioned as Secretary, N. V. Smaraka Trust, and Publisher, Kavana Kaumudi. Currently, he dedicates his time to literary and related activities.

The media was supportive, as they had been in the previous years, in giving prompt coverage of the award ceremony.

മാർക്കണ്ഡേയൻ കണ്ടത്

Once the “Truth” is realized, there is nothing more to discover, nothing more to be found, and nothing more to be desired, attained or achieved. That’s why Rishi Markandeya, when Lord Vishnu appeared before him in the form of the sage brothers Nara and Narayana, expressed his desire to see Vishnumaya (Lord Vishnu’s power of illusion). What else would he ask for, when the Lord Himself was at his beck and call? And the Lord lets him see and experience the Deluge – the ultimate dissolution of the universe – when the Rishi is in deep meditation.

The poem Markandeyan Kandathu (As Seen by Markandeya) is a description of his experience of the Deluge. Markandeya looks around at the swelling waters and is appalled at the devastation caused by the floods. He wonders at the state of Mother Earth. Where are the silken green robes that Mother draped around her? Where are the emerald-green adornments? The blue sapphirine lakes? Where are the golden shower trees with their golden braids? Where is the Jahnavi (Ganga) that she wore around her waist like a golden chain?

But the poet is not a mere storyteller. He is a thinker and a seer. And he sees the impact of climate crisis in the entire apocalyptic experience of Markandeya’s dream. The poet, through the eyes of Markandeya, sees the earth drying up in the extreme heat generated by the climate changes. He sees forests turning into deserts. He sees the arid Kalahari Desert swallowing up the banks of the Zambezi. The Nile basins are invaded by the Sahara. Glaciers float all around the Antarctic. Penguins migrate in hordes from the sinking shores. The ocean rises up in rage to submerge the earth.

Markandeya is in deep meditation at his abode on the Pushpabhadra River, on the Himalayas. And the Rishi, his hermitage, the river, the mountains and all are consumed as a whole by the Deluge. And in the midst of it all, far away on the surging waters, he catches sight of “a banyan leaf and a charming, dark-skinned, little boy floating on it”. This is a symbolic expression of the Rishi’s realization of "the divine" in the illusion as he sees it with his inner eye.

Please listen to Praseeda’s rendition of the poem. Her melting voice evokes a deep surge of emotions – a deluge of its own kind.

SW · Markandeyan Kandathu | K. T. Krishna Variar | Praseeda P. M. | Lukeha / Pixabay

മാർക്കണ്ഡേയൻ കണ്ടത് 

എങ്ങുപോയമ്മ ചാർത്തുന്ന 

പച്ചപ്പട്ടുടയാടകൾ?

എങ്ങാ മരതകചാർത്തിൻ

മംഗല്യപ്പൊൻപതാകകൾ?

ഇന്ദ്രനീലതടാകങ്ങൾ?

പൊന്നലുക്കിട്ട കൊന്നകൾ?

എങ്ങയ്യോ! പൊന്നരഞ്ഞാണാ-

യമ്മ ചാർത്തിയ ജാഹ്നവി?

ഇങ്ങു നൈദാഘതാപത്തിൽ

വരളുന്നു വസുന്ധര.

മരുഭൂമികളായ് മാറീ 

വനസ്ഥലികളാകവേ 

'കാലഹാരി' വിഴുങ്ങുന്നു 

'സാംബസീ' തീരഭൂമികൾ 

സഹാറതന്നാക്രമത്തി-

ന്നിരയായ് നൈൽ നദീതടം.

അൻ്റാർട്ടിക്കയിലെമ്പാടു-

മൊഴുകുന്നു ഹിമാനികൾ 

മുങ്ങും തീരങ്ങൾ വിട്ടോടി 

പെൻഗ്വിൻ നിരകളാർത്തരായ്.

വരുണൻ കോപമാർന്നെത്തി 

വസുന്ധരയെ മൂടുവാൻ.

ഹിമാലയം, പുഷ്പഭദ്രാ-*

തീര,മെന്നുടജാങ്കണം, 

സമാധിസ്ഥിതനാം ഞാനും 

പ്രളയാബ്ധിയിൽ മുങ്ങവേ,

കാണ്മൂ ഞാനകലെ പ്രേമ-

സ്മിതാർദ്രവദനത്തോടെ,

വടപത്രത്തിൽ വാഴുന്ന 

നീലകോമളബാലനെ!

© 1993 KTK

*മാർക്കണ്ഡേയൻ്റെ ആശ്രമം പുഷ്പഭദ്രാനദിയുടെ തീരത്തിലാണ് (ഭാഗവതം)

ദീപാവലി

 

Years ago, or rather, decades ago, during a personal interaction with poet Kamala Das (later known as Kamala Suraiyya) at a literary workshop, she referred to a poet as “someone who is hurt.” She said that a poet has “this feeling of hurt inside him”. Or, simply put, a poet hurts.

In this poem, Deepavali, the “hurt” poet comes to the fore. The festival of lights fills the poet’s mind with a kind of darkness that conjures up the plight of the children who labour at the firework factories of Sivakasi. The poem is a sad contrast – a poetic chiaroscuro – of the brightness of a single day as against the darkness that stretches across the entire existence of the hapless children.

They go through a sheer hell of a life only to create a heaven of the skies with bursts of sparkling firecrackers, all for the rest of the world to rejoice. For the world to celebrate this festive day, they work through the year on starving bellies. Most of them burn out their lives young. Some are blown out in accidental explosions. And then more of their like, poverty-ridden, come to fill the dark, empty spaces left in the wake of their unjustifiable sacrifice. And the new brood lay their charred lives at the pyre of labour for whatever its meagre worth.

Not for them the sweetmeats nor the silken attires of festivity. But what of the smouldering explosives they carry in their hearts? When will they burst, for burst they surely will? When will that day arrive when they will rise in the energy that waits to explode in their souls? When will they uprise from the curse of penury to celebrate their lives with their more fortunate peers? Until such a day, the poet says, “let me sing an ode to them and to the caskets of fire they carry in their hearts, as the world revels!”

The poet hurts. His pain is a melding of sadness, guilt, helplessness, and rage. He cannot relish the joys of the festival for the miseries of those who make the joys available to him. He feels helpless against the world, which is not within his control, and its systems that follow their own course, at their own will. He is disquieted by the injustice of it all. The sizzling embers of his conscience refuse to burn down. Indeed, they are relentlessly stoked by the persistent mirthful explosions that surround him.

Arundhathy Varma’s rendition carries the suppressed pathos that pervades the poem.

SW · Deepavali | K. T. Krishna Variar | Arundhathy Varma | PC: Tim Oliveira/Pexels.com

ദീപാവലി 

ഗർജിക്കും ദീപാവലി-

     പ്പടക്കങ്ങളിൽ, പൂക്കും

മത്താപ്പിൽ, കതിർ വീശും 

     പൂത്തിരിത്താരങ്ങളിൽ, 

കണ്ടു ഞാൻ ശിവകാശി 

     തന്നിലെത്രയും തുച്ഛ-

ശമ്പളത്തിനീ സ്വർഗം 

     വിടർത്തും കിടാങ്ങളെ.

ഒട്ടിയ വയറുമായ് 

     വെടിക്കെട്ടുകൾ തീർപ്പൂ 

മറ്റു ബാലകരെങ്ങു-

     മുൽസവമാഘോഷിക്കാൻ.

അഗ്നിബാധയിലവർ 

     വെന്തുചാവുന്നു വീണ്ടു-

മെത്തുന്നു ദരിദ്രന്മാ-

     രൽപവേതനത്തിനായ്,

ഹൃദ്യമാം ദീപാവലി-

     മധുരങ്ങളും നല്ല 

പട്ടുകഞ്ചുകങ്ങളും 

     നേടാത്ത ഹതഭാഗ്യർ 

വർണപേടകങ്ങളി-

     ലമർന്ന വെടിമരു-

ന്നൊന്നൊന്നായ്പൊട്ടിത്തെറി-

     ച്ചീടുമദ്ദിനമെന്നോ?

മർദിതഹൃദയങ്ങൾ-

     ക്കുള്ളിലെ വിസ്ഫോടക-

ശക്തികളുയിർത്തെഴു-

     ന്നേൽക്കുമദ്ദിനമെന്നോ?

ശപ്തന്മാർ നിഷ്‌ക്കിഞ്ചന-

     രാകുമിപ്പൈതങ്ങളും 

മറ്റിന്ത്യൻ കിടാങ്ങൾപോൽ 

    കൊണ്ടാടും ദിനമെന്നോ?

അവർക്കായവരിലെ 

     ത്തീക്കുടുക്കകൾക്കായി-

ന്നൊരു ചിന്തുപാടുന്നേൻ 

     ദീവാളി തിമർക്കുമ്പോൾ!

© 1990 KTK

സൗന്ദര്യലഹരി (അവതരണം)

Chinmaya Mission, Chicago, had organised a saptah (discourse of seven days) on Sri Adi Shankaracharya's Soundaryalahari, in April 2025, in connection with which a dance recital of a few translated verses of the literary work in Malayalam (by the poet) was presented by a group of dancers led by Lakshmi Warrier. The recited verses are excerpts from the celebrated Kathakali singer Kottakkal Madhu's full rendition of the poet's translated work. 

Here’s a solo performance of the same presentation by Lakshmi Warrier – her submission in bhakti to Maa Shakti.

The original text in Sanskrit along with the translated verses in Malayalam and their meaning in English has been included below the video.

शिवः शक्त्या युक्तो यदि भवति शक्तः प्रभवितुं

न चेदेवं देवो न खलु कुशलः स्पन्दितुमपि ।

अतस्त्वामाराध्यां हरिहरविरिञ्चादिभिरपि

प्रणन्तुं स्तोतुं वा कथमकृतपुण्यः प्रभवति ॥

 

ശക്തിയൊത്തേ ശിവൻ ശക്തനാകൂ

     സൃഷ്ടിതൊട്ട ക്രിയാത്രയത്തിനും

അപ്രകാരമിണങ്ങാത്ത ദേവ-

     നൊട്ടനങ്ങുവാൻപോലുമശക്തൻ

ബ്രഹ്മവിഷ്ണുമഹേശ്വരന്മാരാ-

     ലെന്നുമാരാധ്യയാകിയ നിന്നെ

ഒന്നു കുമ്പിടാൻ കീർത്തിച്ചുപാടാൻ

     പുണ്യമറ്റവർക്കെങ്ങനെയാകും?

 

Only when united with Sakthi (Goddess) does Lord Siva have the power to create, sustain, and/or destroy. If not united thus, He does not have the power even to move. Who else but those who have accrued virtues from their past are blessed enough to salute and praise Thee, Who are always worshipped by the Trinity  - Brahma, Vishnu and Maheshwara?

 

सुधासिन्धोर्मध्ये सुरविटपिवाटीपरिवृते

मणिद्वीपे नीपोपवनवति चिन्तामणिगृहे ।

शिवाकारे मञ्चे परमशिवपर्यङ्कनिलयां

भजन्ति त्वां धन्याः कतिचन चिदानन्दलहरीम् ॥

 

കല്പവാടീസമാവൃതമാമാ-

     രത്നദ്വീപിൽ, സുധാബ്ധിമധ്യത്തിൽ,

പൊൽക്കദംബവനാവലി ചൂഴും

     ഭദ്രചിന്താമണിഗൃഹം തന്നിൽ,

ശൈവമഞ്ചത്തിലപ്പരമേശ-

     പര്യങ്കത്തിലിരുന്നെഴുന്നള്ളും

സച്ചിദാനന്ദധാരയാം നിന്നെ

     സത്തമന്മാർ ചിലരുപാസിപ്പൂ.

 

Fortunate indeed are a few who are able to worship Thee, Mother – the Torrential Flow of Blissful Consciousness – abiding on the seat that is the supreme philosophy of Lord Siva, residing in the chamber of the wish-fulfilling jewel, Chintamani, at the centre of a garden of Kadamba trees, on Manidvipa – the isle of gems, surrounded by the celestial Kalpaka trees, in the midst of the Ocean of Nectar.

 

तनुच्छायाभिस्ते तरुणतरणिश्रीसरणिभिः

दिवं सर्वामुर्वीमरुणिमनि मग्नां स्मरति यः ।

भवन्त्यस्य त्रस्यद्वनहरिणशालीननयनाः

सहोर्वश्या वश्याः कति कति न गीर्वाणगणिकाः ॥

 

ബാലഭാസ്കരസൗവർണരാഗം

താവും നിൻ തനുകാന്തിയാലത്രേ,

ദ്യോവും ഭൂവുമരുണിമയേന്തി

ലാലസിപ്പതെന്നോർത്തു ഭജിപ്പോൻ

ഭീതവന്യഹരിണശാലീന-

നീലനേത്രിമാരുർവശീമുഖ്യർ

അപ്സരാംഗനമാരവന്നെത്ര

വശ്യമാരായ് ഭവിച്ചിടുന്നീല?

 

How many celestial courtesans, including Urvasi, with dark eyes resembling those of the startled does of the forest, will not be attracted to a person who meditates on Thy form, the radiance of which bathes the heaven and earth with the crimson-like hues of the rising sun?

 

त्रयाणां देवानां त्रिगुणजनितानां तव शिवे

भवेत् पूजा पूजा तव चरणयोर्या विरचिता ।

तथा हि त्वत्पादोद्वहनमणिपीठस्य निकटे

स्थिता ह्येते शश्वन्मुकुलितकरोत्तंसमकुटाः ॥

 

മംഗളാത്മികേ! നിൻ്റെ തൃപ്പാദ-

     പങ്കജങ്ങളെപ്പൂജിച്ചിടുന്നോർ,

സാത്വികാദിഗുണത്രയജാതർ

     മൂർത്തി മൂവരെ പൂജിപ്പതല്ലോ.

തൃപ്പാദങ്ങൾ വഹിച്ചിടുന്നോരോ

     രത്നപീഠനികടമതിങ്കൽ,

പൊൽക്കിരീടങ്ങളഞ്ജലീപത്മ-

     കുഡ്മളങ്ങളാൽ ഭൂഷിതമാക്കി,

എന്നുമെന്നുമാമൂർത്തികൾ മൂന്നും

     വന്നുനിൽക്കുന്നു നിൻസവിധത്തിൽ.

 

O Sivaa! The worship done at Thy feet, is equivalent to worshipping the Trinity – Brahma, Vishnu and Siva – who are born of Thy three qualities – Sattva, Raja and Tama – for, They stand in attendance, with their folded palms held above their crowned heads, near the bejewelled pedestal that bear Thy feet.

 

ചത്വരത്തിലെ പറവകൾ

And, finally, we come to the actual poem, Chathwarathile Paravakal (The Birds of the Plaza) – the title poem of the collection of the same name by the poet. Here is the poem Dr. M. Leelavathy has interpreted in detail (as published in the last two posts), delving into the depths of the poem, reading into the meaning within (and in between) the lines of the poem. Leelavathy Teacher has threaded her way through the warp and weft of the poet’s thoughts that interwove to form the poem.

Here, the poet implicitly suggests that the life of the birds of Trafalgar Square is not very different from the life of the immigrants the world over. Incidentally, the poet also had spent a few years of his life in London. His identification with the birds, hence, is not surprising.

The birds have left their nests in the far-away deep forests and green meadows – the snow-covered Siberian landscapes, the Indian terrains, the dark forests of Africa, the Asian plains – to build their homes in these urban spaces to make an easy living. They have left the daily rigors of putting together their nests and finding their feed, and the constant risk of falling prey to the occasional hunter’s arrow, to be content with the seeds and grains thrown at them by the passing residents and travellers who frequent the square – the birds’ only effort being striking poses for the cameras trained at them.

The birds have traded the freedom of their wings, the infinite skies, the endless horizon and the slideshow of the passing seasons for a life on the concrete pavements, where they now hop about, and around the intimidating towers of the square which mark the boundaries of their flight. Here they live, love, and have young ones; here they grow up, grow old, and die.

Their past lives spent in free abandon, along with their kith and kin, have far receded from their memories, especially as going back to their native lands has become an impossibility. Why take the effort to earn something that they can get almost free? And what’s more, isn’t life getting tougher back home too?

Isn’t it wiser to settle for an easy life? Isn’t it wiser to forget the green, rolling mountains, the misty hilltops, and those free flights in the vast blues? Isn’t it wiser to give in to the comfort of their present life, nibbling the goodies that come their way?

So what if they have to shut out their memories of a verdant past and make do with the twilights of the urban skies? So what, then, if they have to swallow the lump of nostalgia and deny the wings their flight?

Well, some questions imply their own answers. Reality always chooses its own rationale. And fulfilment often comes with a sense of loss. Smitha’s rendition carries it all with ease.

SW · Chathwarathile Paravakal

ചത്വരത്തിലെ പറവകൾ 

ട്രഫാൽഗർ ചത്വര 

     മതിൽ പറന്നെത്തും 

പറവകൾ ചോളം,

     തിനയും കോതമ്പു 

മണികൾ ധാന്യങ്ങൾ 

     കനിഞ്ഞു നിങ്ങളി-

ന്നെറിഞ്ഞിടുന്നതും 

     കൊറിച്ചു കോൺക്രീറ്റു 

തറയിലും സ്തംഭ-

     ച്ചുവട്ടിലങ്ങിങ്ങും 

ചിറകുകൾ താഴ്ത്തി-

     പ്പറക്കുന്നോർ ഞങ്ങൾ.

മരതകക്കാടും 

     ഋതുസൗഭാഗ്യവും 

അവിടെപ്പുൽക്കൂട്ടിൽ 

     മദിച്ചു നാൾ നീക്കും 

പഴയ കാലവും 

     സ്വതന്ത്രരായ് പാറി-

പ്പറന്നു വാണൊര-

     പ്പിതാക്കളുമെല്ലാം 

മറക്കുമോർമ്മയായ് 

     തിരിച്ചവിടത്തിൽ 

പറന്നുചെല്ലുവാൻ 

     കഴിയാത്തോർ ഞങ്ങൾ.

വെറുതെ നേടുമീ-

     ത്തിനയാൽ പ്രാണങ്ങൾ 

പൊറുപ്പിക്കാമെങ്കിൽ 

     വിഹായസ്സിൽ നീളെ 

പറന്നലഞ്ഞിടു-

     ന്നതുമങ്ങോരോരോ 

മരത്തിലായ് നീഡം 

     ചമച്ചിടുന്നതും 

തണലിലങ്ങിങ്ങായ്‌ 

     പറന്നിടുന്നേരം 

നിഷാദബാണത്താ-

     ലടിഞ്ഞു പോവതും 

കഠിനമല്ലയോ?

     നഗരചത്വര-

മിതിൽ കഴിപ്പതേ 

     വിവേകമായ് കാൺമൂ 

അകലെയായ് ഹിമ-

     മയ സൈബീരിയാ 

തടങ്ങ, ളിന്ത്യതൻ 

     വിവിധപ്രാന്തങ്ങൾ,

 കറുത്തൊരാഫ്രിക്കൻ 

     വനങ്ങ, ളേഷ്യതൻ 

സമതലങ്ങൾ പെ-

     റ്റുണർന്ന നാടുകൾ, 

അവിടെ വാഴാനും 

     കുടുംബം പോറ്റാനും 

വകയില്ലാഞ്ഞിങ്ങു 

     പറന്നണഞ്ഞവർ.

തിനയും ചോളവും 

    ലഭിക്കാതങ്ങേറെ 

പ്പറവകളിന്നും 

     പറന്നലയുവ-

തറിയുന്നു ഞങ്ങൾ;

     ആവർക്കിദ്ധാന്യത്തി-

ലൊരിത്തിരി നൽകാ-

     നകത്തു ദാഹിപ്പൂ.

ഇവിടെയെത്തുന്നു 

     വിദേശികൾ, കൂറ്റൻ 

പണക്കാർ, വർത്തക-

     പ്രവരർ, സഞ്ചാര-

പ്രിയന്മാർ ഹൃത്തിലായ് 

     കനിവേറുന്നവർ,

അവരേകും ധാന്യം 

     കൊറിച്ചു 'കാമറ'

തുറക്കെ വർണത്തിൽ 

     പടങ്ങൾ തീർക്കുവാൻ 

ഇവിടെച്ചാഞ്ഞൊട്ടു 

     ചരിഞ്ഞു നോക്കിയാ 

പ്രിയമുള്ളോർക്കേറെ 

     ഹരം പകരുന്നു.

ദിനങ്ങൾ നീക്കുന്നി

     തിവിടെ; ക്കുഞ്ഞുങ്ങൾ 

പിറക്കുന്നു; ചിലർ 

     മരിക്കുന്നു; പശി-

യകറ്റുവാൻ പാടു-

     പെടാതെ ജീവിതം 

മധുരമായ് ഞങ്ങൾ 

     നുണച്ചിറക്കുന്നു.

അകലെസ്സുന്ദര-

     മരതകവന

നിരകൾ, മഞ്ഞണി-

     മലകൾ, സ്വച്ഛന്ദം 

പറന്നൊരാ നീല-

     ഗഗനത്തിൻ മായാ-

വിലാസങ്ങളെല്ലാം 

     മറക്കുന്നു ഞങ്ങൾ.

ഇവിടെയും സന്ധ്യ 

     പിറക്കുമ്പോൾ വാനം 

തുടുക്കുമ്പോൾ ഉള്ളിൽ 

     പിടയും വേദന 

അടക്കിയും ചിറ-

     കൊതുക്കിയും ധാന്യം 

കൊറിച്ചു നാളുകൾ 

     കഴിക്കുന്നു ഞങ്ങൾ!

1. ലണ്ടൻ നഗരത്തിൻ്റെ ഹൃദയഭാഗത്തിലുള്ള ചത്വരം 

© 1992 KTK