A Letter to Tatiana Yakoleva

In the caresses of lips
or hands
in the tremblings of bodies
near and dear to me
the red colour
of my motherland
must also
burning be.

I dislike
the love
that Paris boasts
of females one adorns
with silks and fashions
who stretch out dreamily
saying:
"u es beau!
with a bitch’s
animal passion.

You alone
equal me in height
stand now beside me
brow to brow
and about that
oh so important night
let’s talk
like human beings now.

Five p.m.
and since that time
let people
of the dreaming pines
depopulate
the inhabited city..
I hear only
argumentative whines
of trains
for Barcelona quitting.

On the heaven’s black
lightning acts
thunder
tamed
in the drama of heaven.
That’s not thunder,
simply the fact –
of jealousy
moving mountains even.

Don’t believe the raw stuff
stupid words and idle.
Don’t be frightened
by these reelings.
I’ll tame
I’ll bridle
gentry-offsprung
feelings.
Passion’s measles
scabs only leave
but happiness’s
unwitherable ever.

I’ll be long
I’ll be brief
talking only in poetry’s fever.
Enough
of jealousy
wives
tears
Eyelids swell
fittingly I weave.

I’m not myself
but I’m jealous, dear
of Soviet Russia
even.
I saw on shoulders
rags and tatters,
TB
licked them
with a sighing cough.
We’re not to blame,
so what’s the matter?
A hundred million
were badly off.
We can only rectify
a few
for such a gentle sport.

We’re needed in Moscow,
me and you,
there’re not enough
of our long-legged sort.
But with those legs
you won’t be passing
through snow
and typhoid-typhoons.
Here they give them
for caressing
at banquets
for oil-tycoons.
You furrow your forehead
don’t be afraid
eye-brow arcs straighten to bands.
Come to me so
or in the cradle
of my great
big
clumsy hands.


You don’t want to?
You’ll stay behind and winter there?
Well that insult
to the general account
is gathered.
Just the same
sometime or other
I’ll take you dear
from Paris
single
or together.

Suggested Read : Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky

Love and peace in Chitrakoota

The Chitrakoota mountain rises above the mists of the Mandakini river. It is summer and the forest is full with its fruits. The harmony of the woods and its beasts, the flowers and their fruits, all in this multitude of rocks. Ancient herbs surrounds us and purifies this air, flocks of birds moving from one hill onto another is perhaps the only sound around. The crystal waters of the river reflects back the greenery of the forest. There is calm all around in Chitrakoota, a heaven on earth.

Life has never been so good. Laxmana had built a mud house for the three of us in the mountain. The view from the mountain is breath-taking, its serene. Mountains remind me of the unshakable things in life, of the higher purposes of living. Our little house is cosy and I'm surprised where Laxmana learnt all this from. He knows every fruit that is edible, every animal that can be hunted and every twig that will burn. It was a surprise when Vaidehi walked all this distance through the forest and slid so well into the daily difficulties of this forest life. Laxmana's inventiveness surprises me more than that. If it was not for this difficult times, possibly the best within us would never have come out.

Forest life has its difficulties. There are no paths in the forest and often we clear ways through the jungle which end up in deep ravines or waterfalls. Food is abundant, but cooking the meat is difficult at times, with Janaki so inexperienced with the different animals we hunt everyday. Certain fruits are not edible and often leave a bad taste for days. The animals have been very kind to us though they make weird sounds during the night and Janaki wakes up bewildered and shocked. I dont think Laxmana sleeps any time, I have never seen him sleep and many a times I think of him as a tiger among men which prowls all night. Despite all this we are on our own, without a care, with no fear and no responsibilities. If I had ascended the throne, I would have been pacifying the caucuses and people and losing sleep around that. Compared with that, what a good life we have.

There is something funny with my sleep these days. I see dreams in the wee hours of morning and the next day,the same things happen around me. Yesterday I saw this leopard chasing a black antelope in my dreams and it really happened today in front of my eyes in the western bank of the river. Today I saw black vultures over Ayodhya, whatever that means. It is as if the whole world around me is what I see in dreams. It is fun, but a bit scary at times.

Life is good as Janaki, Laxmana and me sit on this huge moonlit rock overlooking the dark forest below. The sky above is clear and starlit, the air is cool with wafts of sandalwood and jasmine. There is no human being in any conceivable distance. Its just the three of us tonight, and for us, just the kindness of this forest.

Love and peace in Chitrakoota, Ayodhya braces itself as fears of anarchy sets in. Bharata rushes to Chitrakoota with the news of Dasharatha's death.

And from here to....

This is Ganga flowing at the end of the Kosala countryside, on the farther bank is the forest of Dandakaranya. Ganga, the all encompassing flow, the refiner of minds, the melting place of punarapis. She carries within her the destiny of nations, the germs of future empires. She gives birth, she carries ashes. Has anybody asked her why she flows, what she is searching for.

Sumantra, my charioteer till this point, asked me where this whole thing is headed. He will return back to Ayodhya in the morning, leaving us here in the forest all by ourselves. He is the most trusted friend of the family and I want him to take good care of father. I told him I had no idea. I told him I had to keep my father's word and protect his honour. I told him when I returned back, if at all, maybe father wouldn't be alive, mother may die of grief, maybe he himself wouldn't be living. I might lose Sita or Laxmana on this dangerous journey. I told him this will be a journey of truth, courage and love. This journey will probably be its destination.

Tonight I have seen how much father loved me, I saw him crying like a child when I parted. I have seen the overwhelming emotion in Ayodhya, with people lined on the streets asking me not to go. Laxmana's mother told him to treat and respect me like a father, like a king, to treat the forest like Ayodhya and to treat Sita like herself ; and then she blessed him well. She is a woman of very few words, but I havent heard anything more beautiful, so selfless, ever. Sita insisted on coming, she could have stayed back like a princess with all comforts, but Janaki chose this uncertain path of hardships. I fear she will lament later, on this big waste of her vernal years but she says it is her duty. She says she will go wherever I go.

O Sumantra, look at that young man,my brother, pretending to be busy so late into the night. He is staying guard for me, protecting me like the thousand headed snake that protects the God of light. He is Adi Shesha himself, my constant companion, my friend. I'm not sure where I will be tomorrow but tonight I go to sleep in the warmth of all this love. I dont know whether I deserve it, tonight I'm just thankful to existence. I'm crying now.

the two princes and Sita cross Ganga the next morning and continue their journey through Dandakaranya forest towards Chitrakoota. In Lanka, the poet-warrior smiles.