6 min read

Translated from the Marathi by Paromita Goswami


Path


Of course, this is what you should do


Take a turn, mid-way

At the next corner


Change your direction, suddenly


In my eyes, the rage

of stinging dust storm

disbelief

at your kohl-lined words


but all that you may willfully

disregard

and extend your nonchalance

with a ‘take care.’


Of course, you should do this.


My hurricane-hit boat, rocking 

This blow, too much to bear

Crash, crash, life would crash around me

But you

You must remain firm

and leave. 


Oh, I would mingle freely once again

regain my strength

Don’t bother to look back 


Cowering,  

the tender sapling of our love

decays

Lush forests of desire lie

uprooted


Warm winds and the rain

my future companions

And slowly your memories

erased

I am released from

the torment  

of memories


So, let nothing stop you. 


I belong to me, henceforth, 

and you to you alone

Members of separate universes 

Drenched separately

In separate rains


And if ever 

Life’s journey ensures

we meet again in a strange town

A small truce, a little give and take

A little tolerable compromise 

We could do that, of course

Meet anew


No crazy twists

in this wise little town

Even the paths

run straight


Right, so go on and do it


Take the sudden turn

at the next turning


Go on now, change … !



Tea

The cup of tea accompanied his 

expectant, friendly hand

Leaving her bewildered 

Oh, am already married 

grown-up kids, it’s all going well

she said.


He grinned and replied 

I am saying ‘friendship.’


She fumbled 

Let me be clear here 

I dislike all this 

Always mind my own business, I do

In fact, I have not a minute for such things 


He chuckled and said

But I am only saying ‘friendship’ to you.


Yes, yes, of course, whatever 

People out here aren’t blind

Such sneaks they are 

Promotions are round the corner 

A pin dropping can blow 

A pandemonium out of proportions


He laughed and said

which is why I am saying ‘friendship.’


All this talk

had left her breathless 

The cold tea 

ditchwater in a cup. 

All of a sudden, her eyes filled

soft, warm tears rolled

So many days  

these very words remained unsaid


He removed a gentle kerchief from his pocket 

and held it before her calmly.


Then descended the torrent 

She sobbed, hiccupped

to her heart’s content 


This time he remained unsmiling,

sought her eyes and said,

And for this alone

I was saying ‘friendship.’



Female Companion

Don’t express your opinions so freely, my dear

Not about her …

Guessing her is hardly that easy

Your simple questions would lose their way 

in her labyrinthine answers 


You’d ask— how’s life, what’s keeping you busy? 

She’d reply— I rise and set each day, that’s about it


You’d say— beautiful, your poems

She’d say— they slip and slither away 

through my pen


Startled 

you may look at her, puzzled 

And she might shine

like a fresh teardrop


From her eyes

you’d see them flow together 

Christ-like compassion

mingled with the anguish of the Cross.


And yet, don’t you dare presume 

you know her,

for in her words, you will meet

Buddha’s perfect equanimity


Removed beyond love-relations

into nature’s primeval origins

Could the Adam in you then endure

the weight of her innocent Eve?


She draws you beyond, my dear, 

before the dawn of prehistoric eras 

There is nothing at all you could weave around her

nothing material


Krishna tried to contain her once

called her his sakhi, his female companion

it was quite impossible otherwise 

to measure her space


Listen, my dear

don’t fall for her simplicity

Your questions would flap their ineffectual wings

against her intricate replies. 



Interlude


What is my silence really

but a constant wordless conversation

Whatever pleases me; whichever way I choose; as much as I desire

Untouched by your validation or rejection

I link my thoughts

Without the influence of words

And truly then

My inner language, I begin to decipher.

The urge sometimes, to call out your name,

I wouldn’t deny

After all, a habit of long years


What is the assurance, I wonder

for the one who calls out first

amidst a suspended conversation


You will give in and melt away

one by one your petals will fade away

Against that broken stone of memory

You shall stumble; I am sure.


I want this distance, meanwhile

let it remain, for now

Emotions blossoming in silence 


The birds of speech may nest elsewhere.





Shashi Dambhare is a well-known poet in  Marathi with several anthologies to her credit. She won the Lokmat State-level Creative Writing Award (2006). Her poem ‘Pani’ won the state level award from the Maharashtra government. She composed the lyrics for the Marathi film Neel. She is associated with the Shabd Sahitya Sanstha. The poems here are taken from her popular anthology Priya Mitras published by Shabd Sahitya Mandal in 2018.


Paromita Goswami is a lawyer and activist working in Chandrapur district, Maharashtra. Her stories and poems have appeared in 
Out of Print, Muse India, Himal Southasia, Mean Peppervine, Kitaab International, Parcham, Eclectica and other magazines. She won the Rama Mehta Writing Grant (2023). Her anthology of short stories A Death in the Forest was published by Red River Publications in 2025.




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