June 27, 2008

माझी कवीता - My Poem


माझी कविता  कवीता





© Remigius de Souza. All rights reserved.
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मातीचा माणूस — माणसाची माती

रेखाचित्र, रेमी डिसोजा, मुंबई

मातीचा गोळा    माणूस त्यातून केला
नाव त्याचे ठेवले    मातीचा पूत. 

पावसात त्याला    भिजत ठेवला, कुजत ठेवला
ठोकून थोपटून घडवला    उनात त्याला करपला.

मातीचा गोळा    त्याचा केला    एकच प्याला
साठवली    पहिल्या धारेची त्यात नशा
    मध्यरात्रीच्या    नि:शब्द सान्निध्यात.
 
मातीचा गोळा    केली त्याची पणती
वाट त्यात पेटवली    मध्यरात्रीच्या
    निशब्द सान्निध्यात.
 
मातीचा माणूस   विसाव्या शतकाच्या
    अखेरीला
चावूनझ चायलामा    राजकारणी लोकांची
    पंथास लागलेला.

माणसाची माती    उंबरठ्यावर
    एकविसाव्या शतकाच्या.

६-३-१९८९

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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June 24, 2008

Remi’s Vernacular Tongue

Remi’s Vernacular Tongue
(Translation of the previous post by the author)




Remi’s one more blog: language is Marathi, or English, but different in Remi’s vernacular tongue.
In a family there may be 10, 5, 3 or 2 persons. Their accents and manners of talk may be, or seem to be, similar, but each one’s vernacular is independent. It’s like finger prints. It’s like out of countless leaves on a tree, each leaf has unique impression of veins on it.

That doesn’t happen with countless cars on a large parking lot though effort is made to bring variety by different colours and designs. It’s the same story with apartment blocks in cities.

But all the mud houses built in a village/s in vernacular style do not fail to enchant us by each one’s uniqueness and their variety.

That’s the fun in the natural variety.

How could the sixty years of wanderings fail to make impression on Remi’s vernacular tongue – words, meanings and sound?

A person who wanders whole his life moves on margin. But his wandering is not like a blinkered buggy horse. Or it’s not like a railway that runs on tracks. Or it’s not like aeroplanes that fly on a drawn line from one point to another. Or he has no obligation caste-religion-class.

His wandering is like honeybee’s dancing journey; her hive too moves with her. His wanderings are like an aborigine moving happily at will in the wilderness.

His wandering that started at the foothill of Western Ghats is yet to fulfil, if alive, in reaching homeland – Gondwana.

Remigius de Souza
21.06.2008


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