Shefalika

Dr. Baidya Nath Varma,Professor Ennitus of Sociology,The City University of New York



ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF MAITHILI POEMS





Shefalika Verma has written two outstanding books in Maithili; one a book of poems titled “BHAVANJALI”, and the other, a book of short stories titled “YAYAVARI”. Her Maithili Books have been translated into many languages including Hindi, English, Oriya, Gujarati, Dogri and others. She is frequently invited to the India Poetry Recital Festivals as her fans and friends are important people. I do not have to give more introduction of her as her achievements speak for themselves.



Shefalika, the poet enjoys being with her lover. Who else could he be except her husband?



I will translate for the readers some of her poems to show her affection for life and the agony of bereavement from her sweet heart.



Her poems take leaps in all directions and focus on nature, from flowers to lakes and mountains, from the sun to the moon to the stars, and finally she reaches humanity –she embraces them all.



Let us follow her dreams in BHAVANJALI now….



[Poem No. 11]



“The flower “Rajanigandha” is crying,

Although blessed with a garland of stars,

“Singarhar” is shaking with pain,

The clouds are showering rain…

…..from the mouth of the sky.

You came silently without exposing your body

Now you have become my life.

You are decorating the smile on my lips for eternity.”





[Poem No. 14]



“…you are searching yourself in my eyes

If you do not see yourself you are lost.

But I have decorated you in my heart…”



Then she goes into a different world….







[Poem No. 20]



“…you make me dance as you wish,

I live my life as you want,

Then why are you measuring the guilt of each of us?

Oh God, You are not free of guilt!”





[Poem No. 26]



When my heart becomes desert

You shower rain on it.

And I receive a new life.

You have given me everything:

Truth and falsehood,

Sin and godliness,

Respect and people’s hatred…”



She floats in the heavens now...





[Poem No. 41]



“How will my song reach you?

The fragrance of my breadth flies around the world to reach you.

The tears of my bereaved eyes flow drop by drop.

You left me, the moon left…

The music vanished from the moonlight.

The beauty of the dawn evaporated from my life,

And the season of songs vanished for me –

I had hoped forever.”



And the world changed, she found her soul.





[Poem No. 49]



I have traveled the world...

Visited all the religious places, dipped in the holy rivers,

And found that in the small space of my Heart,

All the elegance of the world exists.

The Fire Age Of Emigration To City

Original poem in Maithili by Gajendra Thakur
Translated into English by Lucy Gracy from New York

Gajendra Thakur (b. 1971) is the editor of Maithili ejournal “Videha” that can be viewed at http://www.videha.co.in/ . His poem, story, novel, research articles, epic – all in Maithili language are lying scattered and is in print in single volume by the title “KurukShetram.” He can be reached at his email: ggajendra@airtelmail.in



The Fire Age Of Emigration To City

The rushing group of milkmen

A chase to cross the river of Kamala

Swimming against the flow

The burp like sound of castle

Groups returning to the village

The peaceless home filled with quarrels

The life among the shit of castle

Faced towards the towns

Land of hatred dislikes pollution and diseases

Many friends died of aids

Retreating the village life

Among the fascination of the city

First came the age of emigration

Now lonely families suffering separations

What pleasure did the houses get?

Many villages are contaminated by the idea of emigration

God knows what the reason is

People will laugh at me if one sells groceries at village

But who sees what you do in the city

And facing the discrimination here too

Looking for a single people of my village

Friends are also showing proud

Generations are dieing of such ideology

The regional violence

Is this going to be fate of whole India?

Then why to leave my place out of fear

Whose conspiracy is this?

Why couldn’t find the root

Couldn’t get doctor when needed

Who will help in flood and drought?

My home is where I live now

I have sensitivity

For the next generation

I will have my courage with me always.

Mandakini Living In The Heaven Came To The Earth Now-Original poem in Maithili by Gajendra Thakur Translated into English byJYOTI JHA CHAUDHARY

Mandakini Living In The Heaven Came To The Earth Now
Badrivishal and Kedarnath
Meeting of Alaknanda and Mandakini
Two of the thundering streams meet
Who is living in the cloudy house?
The cloud that left
Did not return yet
But along the way
The cold wind came with earth quake
Animals trapped and fell down
Whose is this snow capped house?
Heart is shaken to see the stream
No ends of the mountain range
The slope is so steep and brook is at the ground
Edges fenced with two mountains
This is your beauty! Oh Alaknanda!
Mandakini who lives in the heaven
Is seen on the earth
The thundering bubbly torrent
The new vision I am gifted with today
Showed me the world filled with cold wind.

(Original Maithili Poem by Sh.Ramlochan Thakur, translated by Gajendra Thakur)

In these Tirty Seven Years



And

He Stumbles

The tring-tring machine in his hand

is speechless

Beside

coming from shop

sound of Radio

President's speech

addressed to Nation

accounting of progress

of independence

on 37th anniversary

"thirty sevewn years!"

he exhales

From today

exactly 37 years

He came to Kolkata

He remembers exactly

like tape of Cinema

all events

in front of eye

dancing

one day

in darkness of night

when all the village was silent

came jostling

around forty policemen

surrounded

his house

broke wooden house gate

and

took his father away.

This talk although

he knew later on

that his father

was in Swarajya Party

and the landlord of his village

Satlaren Babu

had hand in his catch

who

was with police

and that

he saw with his eye

then

after around six months

one day he listened

'country has become independent

Swarajya Party has won'

and

that day he felt

ecstatic

People said that

his father would be freed from jail

he too

would come to village

but

day after day

month after month

passed

his father

did not return.

and Satlarem Babu

on that occasion

went to Delhi

people say

became minister

and in that very year

during Agham month

his maternal uncle

visited village

brought along

him

"Sister-fucker,

you have made this a Ricksaw-stand.."

and

instantly his leg is beaten

with a stick

he becomes uneasy

sees his leg

how thin it has become

in these thirty seven years-

in these thirty seven years-his bone

has become naked

in these thirty seven years-

in these thirty seven years-his waist has leaned so much,

in these thirty seven years-

in these thirty seven years

stick of policeman has become so particular

in these thirty seven years-

in these thirty seven years-his abuses has become so crude

and

his leg

moves subconsciously

tring-

tring

"where?

come here"

and

police pushes he almost fells

in front is policestation

that day when he came

to Kolkata

this policestation was not there

he was the only one from his village

now around forty

some with cart pulling

some with Ricksaw

and som like Coolie

this time

he visited his village

all the tola of Dusadh emptyno one male member there

likewise as happened that time

when

his father

was taken away

whole of Dusadhtoli

fled

although

this time

people

did not fear did not fled village

due to hunger of belly

fled to

Delhi

Punjab

he thinks

in these thirty seven years

so many Tolas

so many villages

became sort of people

in these thirty seven years so many young and bold

left their

own

their village-home

in these thirty seven years

in these thirty seven years bread has become dearer

in these thirty seven years

in these thirty seven years labour has become cheaper

in these thirty seven years

now in these thirty seven years policestations are in plenty

in these thirty seven years...

"sister-fucker, vomit five rupees"

"from where sir

from morning only two rupees i have earned,

I do have license.."

"License bastard.."

and

a powerful slap

on his temple

he feels drowsy

fells

darkness in front of his eyes

his purse around his waist

swings in policeman's hand

his hard-earned money

two rupees

swings in policeman's hand

Policeman laughs

beside

sound of Radio from shop

presidential address

addressed to nation

account of progress

of independence

on thirtysevent anniversary

Ricksawpuller

still senseless fallen

around him

is darkness

complete darkness.