Let me also seek
A path where
Chariots have not been rolled on
Bones have not been crushed on
Let me also see
Drops of water
On food plates
Not discoloured
Let me also wish
To hate
The blood spreading
On the wheat grains
Let me also keep
Praying to have
The water in the stream
Spotless forever
Let me also, finally,
Keep away from
Sipping the dirty water
Of this madness
Let me also set out
To throw
The stones
On this fraud path
By Ismail Meladi
Life groans like a patient
Afflicted with rheumatism
The needle of the
Clock is on fire
I get multiple faces
Oh! The flautist,
Play the music of
Distinction;
The dancer has lost
Her anklets,
The watchman
His stick,
The mother
Her mind,
The father
His thoughts,
The children
Their dreams,
Some people
Their shelter,
Few others
Their fear,
A lot many
Their courage,
The words
Their meaning
And sharpness;
The horrendous
Rolling of machines
Has stolen
The hearing power
Of the rivers,
And the smokes
Their vision;
The fungus-smothered
Spectacles change colours
Snails face extinction
Pens start embarking
On special carriages
Brains repose on easy chairs
As the ink and the paper
Blame each other
The gold casts
a sarcastic smile
The sugar overthrows
The salt in tears.
By Ismail Meladi
Don’t be born my child,
Know, with what
The face of the earth
Is waiting for you
No light would be spread,
No smile would be unfurled,
Listen for a time when you feel
The sound of explosion as music
Here would not be calm and quiet
Unrest would rule the roost
Remember, you will have to learn
The lessons of unexpectedness
Ensure you will not burn even in fire
Explosions could occur any time
You will have to do a tight ropewalk
Over the bridge of thread
Sun will not rise up,
Men will not wake up
First sight each morning
Would be of dead bodies
Stoves will not be lit up
Bellies will not be filled up
Still, the air will be engulfed
With black smoke, don’t suffocate
Man and man will not
Get along with each other,
Blood will flow like rivers,
Save yourself from drowning
No dolls or toys to play
You will have to put up
Your life amongst
The guns and bombs
You will not find any faces,
Expect only masks
Everybody will keep knives
Watch out for yourself
No tears or sympathies left
The beauty of the earth
Will become barren
Try not to be sad
No kindness in the hearts
Not a drop of water will be left
Even in the womb of the sea of love
Don’t be desperate
There is not a better place for you
Than the womb of your mother
You know my child,
You know…
Don’t be born my child,
Know, with what
The face of the earth
Is waiting for you.
By Ismail Meladi
You may wash your face
With my blood
At least thus,
Let your mask
Which is stuck for long,
Break away
You may drink
My whole blood
At least thus,
Let your inner heart,
Which is dirty with stains,
Be washed clean
My blood may not be enough
To wash all your hands
And clean all your thoughts
Still, take this blood blithely
Shed my blood ruthlessly
If you need it to cool your
Boiling eyes or to make it up
At least thus,
Let the filthy cloud, formed
And getting debased in your eyes,
Be moved away.
By Ismail Meladi
Oh my small baby that sleeps
Enjoying the warmth of my chest
You too see the tree that I saw
You too see the flowery branches,
The spring that blooms the flowers,
The shades and the contentment
But, see not the trees burning
Oh dear, see the green leaves
And the dews that cool them
See the shyness of the grass tip
That blossoms self-immersed
But, see not the leaves charring
Oh my kid, see the land
See the moon grass on it
And the lotus bloomed in mud
That mirrors its face on moon
The embarrassment on its face
See them all eyes wide open
See not the barrenness spreading
Oh my young child, walk further
Listen to pure charming music
Surprise unfurls on the creepers
That crawled up on the fence
See the first rays of sun caress
The reed bushes after reaching
Like the snakes move around
In the reed bushes that became
A worship place for the villagers
Where the ancient hymns rise
Awake from the nap the reeds
Will hum the morning rhythm
Lend ears to this, not explosions
Take a stroll or two across the fields
The stems of paddy plants
Will play melodies for you
Flowery plants on the shores
Will call you with their hands
Rhythmically and the streams
Will sing sweet tunes for that
Smell not the discharging blood
With a sea of tears and folded hands
I beg your pardon my little child
Sitting even in this concrete jungle
I whisper in your ears green garden
At least, let a green dream unfold
In your deep and comfortable sleep
Let you not be hurt at least inside.
By Ismail Meladi
Precarious Thoughts
My soul trims down and
Becomes a single thread
By pecking and plucking
Words separate the tangles
On the much sharpened edge
Between meaning and inanity
Between sense and inner sense
At precarious moments
Swings and sways the thoughts
If that peels off and drops down
The fall will shake up this universe
Thoughts drenched in the downpour
On earth have been swollen and heavy
An oil lamp on the veranda of the soul
And the oil that is being burnt up in it
Invigorate and enliven the flames
On the stage that is dimmed up with
Flimsy flames and cold breeze.
By Ismail Meladi
Split the moment into hundred
And take one among them
Build a bridge across the life,
Slimmer than the hair
That is divided into hundred
Place a needle on top of it,
Of coincidence, unexpectedness,
Of impuissance, selfishness, or
Of anything…
And now,
The fate would be arriving
As an uninvited guest
It would perform a dance
On the edge of the needle
Not just a dance,
A dance of devastation,
And the destruction
Would be occurring
Underneath the bridge
It will become topsy-turvy
The least expected would be
A huge displacement of things.
By Ismail Meladi
