Translated from the Punjabi by Hunardeep Kaur
Marx in the Park
A chief police officer
In his track-suit, walking fast
in the circular track of the park
Behind him – At a distance of five feet
A sipahi, in his uniform
On a run like a hobbling horse
Adjusting his pace to the rhythm of the officer’s
Step, he unsettles his own rhythm
All at once,
In the interspace of five feet between them
Comes in Marx,
Schooling the sipahi:
I do not pity you – I am angry at you
Why do you not walk alongside him?
At the same level,
Both of you are humans – equals
Walk on an equal footing
The only difference is that
Between a fat purse and coins wrapped in a rag
I will go snatch a purse for you
You will start walking on par with him
The sipahi has become tensed
No, Comrade, No!
I have been walking behind him for three centuries
I know everything – don’t indulge me in your talk
After the duty, I have to go buy an admission form
Of a good school for my child!
When I Become Gorky
I am in a small city – awake
The night is half there – half the other side
Sounds rattle from the boilers in the cotton mills
This is the Gorky night of the seventies
I am standing below the dim, sad, wintery
Street lights that are alive above the
Large waste heap from the mill
Soiled, rough, weather-beaten hands
Appear before me
The workers start walking inside me
I start to become Gorky.
Modi Back on the Throne
This is Chambal Valley one
People say –
Dacoits live here
This is the Supreme Court of the tormented
The trees are the judges – the lawyers
The drifting sand – a hiding place,
The bushes appear as witnesses
The decisions are not announced – they are done
You are blameless but not acquitted – remain here
Turn your face towards falsehood and remain standing
Till the day you are alive Keep shooting the lie
This is Chambal Valley two
Don’t call it Chambal Valley
You will become an anti-national
You will be shot at
Without a sound
The walls are made of electoral rolls
Courts – brick and stone
The decisions are announced
A murderer is not someone who has murdered
But someone who is called a murderer
The one who kills a person
Is a murderer
The one who murders a thousand people
He is called the saviour of lakhs
I am standing outside the second Chambal Valley
Inside me is a tunnel
That goes into the first Chambal Valley
For the dacoit to pass through to come have a meal with me
Devneet (1951-2013) was a Punjabi poet from Mansa, Punjab. He contributed four poetry collections to the field of Punjabi literature, namely, Kagaz Kandran (Paper Hearts), Yaatri Dhyan Dain (Passengers Pay Attention), Pathar Utte Payi Saxophone (Saxophone on the Rock) and Hun Stalin Chup Hai (Now Stalin is Silent). His poetry embodies socio-economic realities, cultural landscapes that mark human life and captures in depth the subtleties of the everydayness of human existence.
Hunardeep Kaur has completed her Bachelors in English Literature from Lady Shri Ram College for Women, University of Delhi and is pursuing her Masters in English Literature from Ashoka University.