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