& çâÌæÚUæð´ ·¤è ¥ôÚU Îð¹Ùæ ÁæÚUè ÚU¹ð´ ¥ÍæüÌ ¥ÂÙð ÜÿØ ÂÚU ŠØæÙ ÚU¹ð´Ð ãæÚU Ù ×æÙð´, €UØô´ç·¤ ·¤æ× ·¤ÚUÙð âð ¥æÂ·¤ô ©gðàØ ·¤è Âýæç# ãôÌè ãñ ¥õÚU ÁèßÙ ·¤æ ¹æÜèÂÙ ÎêÚU ãôÌæ ãñÐ ÖÜð ãè ÁèßÙ ×ð´ ç·¤ÌÙè Öè ·¤çÆÙæ§ü €UØô´ Ù ¥æ°, çÁ™ææâæ ¥õÚU ©ˆâæã ÕÙæ° ÚU¹ð´Ð ŠØæÙ ÚU¹ð´, ÜÿØ ã×ðàææ ¥æÂ·Ô¤ Âæâ ãôÌð ãñ´ çÁ‹ãð´ ÂæÙð ·Ô¤ çÜ° ÂýØæâ ¥æÂ ·¤Öè Öè àæéM¤ ·¤ÚU â·¤Ìð ãñ´Ð

poem

Meeting at Jail Gate

Al Mahmud
Translated by Andalib Rashdie
When the cell was unlocked.
a small patch of the sun entered into my room.
You will meet me today.
A thrill of Joy roams around my place.
Although the northern wind was blowing giving a chilly tremor in my bones
I chose cold water to wash my hands and feet.
I called out the sentry to inform'that you would be coming today. Putting on a smile on his face the sentry lit my cigarette
and said. Take a walk along the porch and get a good appetite, You can take it for sure, fabulous dish is on way with her.' Food is always first, you see. this what everyone thinks.
I know there is a famine condition outside. The hungry crowd maddened for food Is rushing towards cities. Even the newspapers cannot but term the condition to be something horrendous beyond any wild dream.
I have seen the photographs of copses of long starving children lying on the streets and
I clutched the iron grills of the prison hard.
Oh my independence! Did we sacrifice everything that we had in order to establish a reign of hunger?
They have kept me in between a gun and court of law. It is place which dry up human souls It does not allow me a search for my roots.
But you know what the fountain of a poet is.
I can bring my stream back within the four walls of the stony prison. You have always seen me how do I keep the sources of our souls alive in woes and misfortunes.
The sparrows' twittering awoke the prisoners.
I left the porch to get into the garden.
Only a small slice of garden it was.
My sleepers and pajama drew water from the wet leaves.
I plucked from the bushes of chandramalUka a bunch of white and yellow flowers Waving their heads in the air the red datta tree asked me to reach the flowers. Then 1 went to the roses.
Although the rose bloomed Inside the prison it was still a rose with fragrant as ever. My Jail inmates do not pluck flowers nor do they allow anyone to pluck one. But I did it to offer you a bouquet.
Today time hangs heavy on me.
I took a clean shave and browsed over books.
The city dn the other side of the walls l^ni ei /iw vhuboo h^uW/ J dj has started to get up fron) sleep, ' ।
I could hear the ringing bells of rickshaws and whistles of vehicles.
By now. I know in those hotels of Chawks the large pans with meat have started boiling, and the tasteful soup is being poured down on the plates of poor customers.
But famine reigns the land outside the walls.
Do the masses have anything at all to eat?
Do the day labourers get enough to have a plate full of nehari? Look what a great difference can a wall make.
Oh. how free the birds are to fly over the walls so easily. -It is lor the first time in my lib I become jealous of this great fortune oi sparrows.
I can take it for certain that our city, by now. is crowded with beggars. Days are spent in coping with them.
Didn't tell you time and again that a handful of alms cannot alleviate poverty.
It demands a different intervention to address poverty.
It requires social justice to be ensured.
I am afraid, if you could understand me.
My dear love.
the sun today has risen with your sacred name warm and eager rays of the sun are sliding on the bars of the prison On the other side of the walls you may hear the noise of people who are just awaken.
They are the people who go to bed after everybody is settled there and get up earlier than anybody else.
They are the people who push who drive who turn who cast who fly and burn and march forward with their fists clenched.
Beneath the civilisation the eternal rivers of their sweat never dry.
Listen to the clamor of the masses.
The prisoners are waking up.
I hear someone coughing in a cell next to mine.
I pronounced your name in every cells of the prison and announced that I have an interview with you today at twelve noon.
Happy to be informed of you arrival, all the prisoners sat on their beds. Everyone expects you to bring some good news.
You are. as If, a newspaper of the day and you are the headline on it.
Swinging me in its invisible rays when the sun brought me in the middle of the sky You have Just arrived.
I approached the Jail gate to see that you are sitting mute with a tiffin-carrier right in front of you.
You smiled a pale but a total smile We did not exchange words of well-being.
The moment you took the chair for interviewees you started serving food
You rolled a fish-ball and whispered into my ears-another round of crackdown is going on.
I simply nodded my head.
You poured down the gravy of magur and whispered again to tell me that a revolutionary know to me is no more alive.
I bent my had down.
1 asked you not worry.
We can bear the grief. May Allah give us that strength.
Then we kept looking at each other.
We kept looking until the noise of the sentry's boots reached and stopped between us.