The Hungry Stones - I
I
As things do return home like a refrain,
On way back from a country tour were we,
A leisurely long trip—my kin and me,
And met a quaint character on the train,
As I recall, in his late life, nigh vain,
His dress and demeanour indicative,
And we at sea the way he seemed to talk,
His deportment and dialogue of proud cock,
Who discoursed on any a theme on earth,
A Muslim sure from far, not a native,
Listening to him was, not his tale’s worth,
Yea, something sure was there that was not sane.
The Goddess of Learning and Destiny
Seemed to have blessed him— of ports so many,
Who said, forces were at work in the world
Far too secretly, underground, unheard:
Russians, say, have advanced closer to us,
Brit policies have been inauspicious,
Feuds among our leaders have come to head,
Confused and suspicious who see things red.
And flourished our newly formed friend in train
With phony smile: What might cause further pain—
More things happen under and ‘pon this earth
Than reported are as the news of worth.
The home-bound birds like us that had not seen
The world he had, struck were dumb with wonder,
What with his quotes on science, his comments
On Vedas, verses of Persian poets.
Our young ears, untutored to this knowledge,
Caused our admiring bone to turn attuned,
Sure, a magnet, occult power, an astral
Body some sort doubtless has him inspired,
We listened to him with keenest of ears,
Devout mind, he’d our heart all enraptured.
The train reaching a railhead, we waited
In a retiring room, tired and jaded,
As change of train weighed when heavy on eyes.
‘Train's running late', when someone made us wise,
Our wise man then set out a tale to spin,
And our sleep said goodbye with a wry grin!
____________________________________________
Narrative |01.04.2024|
Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali: Kshudhaarto Paashaana, divided in I to XIII parts, largely in blank verse that lapses into rhymes along with its twists and turns. The story is known to have happened during Tagore’s stay at Shaahibaug palace in Ahmadabad, the nearby river Sabarmati becoming river Suista in the story.
Copyright © Aniruddha Pathak | Year Posted 2024
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