Tuesday, March 30, 2021

Intellectual

Bharat Majhi

Translated by Sailen Routray


Almandine on gray-green schist, found in Tyrol, Austria; 19x11x7cm
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons

We start roaming the world aimlessly
from the time of our birth.
You shout from behind our backs
with some random names.
Sometimes those names stick
with a vengeance that surprises, even you.
 
You do not like our leaving the village
to bake bricks in Hyderabad or to
level the earth in Raipur.
You do not like our staying put either.
You do not like our sons
working on the fields
or for that matter our daughters
wearing torn frocks.
 
You team up with the village elder and
he takes our fingerprints.
The sacks containing the prescribed
caloried food meant for us
grow wings and fly away.
 
You can comment lucidly
on our parched lands
with your throat moist with bottled water.
You enter the textbooks
of our children while elaborating
on the pernicious effects
of not exercising the right to vote.
 
We do not know
how much to eat per diem.  
We do not know what to eat,
and how much to bend while
greeting whom.
We do not know exactly how much
should we kiss our wives,
and for how long to sit and where.
 
Because we start roaming the world
aimlessly from the time of our birth.
 
Someone tells us that
you are beyond all questioning.
We might forget the arts
of  baking bricks or levelling the earth;
but we have to be excited
with the names that you have given us.
You will arrive with your face glistening
on the back cover of  learned tomes;
but it just might be that
we won’t ever touch
the glitter of that face.
 
NoteThis translation was first published in issue number 287 of the magazine Indian Literature in May-June 2015. The poet Bharat Majhi (born in 1972 in Kalahandi) works in an Odia media house in Bhubaneswar. He has published nine volumes of poems in a poetic career spanning more than three decades. Amongst other recognition, he has won the Bhubaneswar Book Fair Award in 2008 and the Sanskriti Award in 2004. 

Sunday, March 28, 2021

ତାହା ମୋର ହିଁ ଠିକଣା

ବିନୋଦ କୁମାର ଶୁକ୍ଲା

ଅନୁୁବାଦକ - ଶୈଲେନ ରାଉତରାୟ


ଗ୍ରୀସ ଦେଶର ସାନ୍ତୋରିନି ଦ୍ୱୀପର ଏମ୍ପୋରେଇଓ ଗ୍ରାମର ଏକ ଦୃଶ୍ୟ
ଫଟୋ କ୍ରେଡ଼ିଟ୍ - ୱିକିମିଡିଆ କମନ୍ସ୍ 

କବିତା ଲେଖିଲା ବେଳେ
ମୋର ଧ୍ୟାନ ଦୁନିଆଦାରିରେ ରହେ
ଲେଖିଲା ବେଳେ କିଏ ଘରର ବନ୍ଦ ଦରଜା
ଖଟଖଟ କଲେ ମୁଁ ଶୁଣିଦିଏ
ଆଉ ଦରଜା ଖୋଲିଦିଏ
ଏହା ବି ସତ
କି ତେବେ କିଏ ଜଣେ ଆସିଥାଏ
କାହାର ଠିକଣା ଖୋଜିଖୋଜି ହେଉନା କାହିଁକି
ତା'କୁ ମୋର ଘର ହିଁ ସୁବିଧାଜନକ ଲାଗିଲା
ଆଉ ସେ ମୋର ଦରଜା ବାଡ଼େଇଲା ।
ଏହା ବି ସତ କି
ନିଜର ଦରଜା ଖୋଲିଲାରୁ
କବିତା ଏମିତି ଜାଗତିଆର ହେଇ ଆସେ
ଆଉ ସେ ଠିକଣା କହିଲେ
ତା' ହେଇଥାଏ ମୋର ହିଁ ଠିକଣା ।

ବି.ଦ୍ର. - ବିନୋଦ କୁମାର ଶୁକ୍ଲାଙ୍କର ଜନ୍ମ ୧୯୩୭ ମସିହାରେ, ଏବେର ଛତିଶଗଡ଼ ରାଜ୍ୟର ରାଜନନ୍ଦଗାଓଁରେ । ଜବଲପୁରସ୍ଥ ଜୱାହରଲାଲ କୃଷି ବିଶ୍ୱବିଦ୍ୟୟାଳୟରୁ କୃଷିବିଜ୍ଞାନରେ ସ୍ନାତକୋତ୍ତର ଉପାଧି ଲାଭ କରିସାରି ସେ ରାୟପୁରର କୃଷି ମହାବିଦ୍ୟାଳୟରେ ଅଧ୍ୟାପକ ଭାବରେ ଯୋଗ ଦେଲେ । ନିଜର ମ୍ୟାଜିକ୍‌-ରିଆଲିଜମ୍‌ଧର୍ମୀ ଉପନ୍ୟାସ ତଥା ଜୀବନବାଦୀ, ଭିନ୍ନ ସ୍ୱାଦର କବିତା ପାଇଁ ସେ ହିନ୍ଦୀ ଓ ଭାରତୀୟ ସାହିତ୍ୟ ଜଗତରେ ଜଣାଶୁଣା । ତାଙ୍କର ଗଦ୍ୟକୃତି ଓ କବିତାଗୁଡ଼ିକ ବହୁଳ ଭାବରେ ଆଦୃତ ଓ ଅନୁଦିତ । ତାଙ୍କର ଅନେକ କାହାଣୀ ଫିଲ୍ମର ରୂପ ମଧ୍ୟ ପାଇଛି । ତନ୍ମଧ୍ୟରୁ ପ୍ରସିଦ୍ଧ ସିନେନିର୍ମାତା ମଣି କୌଲ 'ଏକ୍ ନୌକର୍ କି କମିଜ୍' ଉପନ୍ୟାସ ଉପରେ ଏକ ସମନାମ୍ନୀ ଚଳଚିତ୍ର ନିର୍ମାଣ କରିଥିଲେ । ଅନ୍ୟାନ୍ୟ ପୁରସ୍କାର ଭିତରୁ 'ଦିୱାର୍ ମେଁ ଏକ ଖିଡ଼୍‌କି ରହ୍‌ତି ଥି' ଉପନ୍ୟାସଟି ପାଇଁ ୧୯୯୯ ମସିହାରେ ସେ କେନ୍ଦ୍ର ସାହିତ୍ୟ ଅକାଦେମୀ ସମ୍ମାନ ଲାଭ କରିଛନ୍ତି ।

Friday, March 26, 2021

Have You Ever Listened to the Looms?

Sailen Routray


By the time of his untimely death in 1998, at the age of 44, D. R. Nagaraj was increasingly seen as stepping into the space vacated by cultural theorist and folklorist A.K. Ramanujan who was arguably the most seasoned human scientist that Karnataka had produced by that time. At the same time, Nagaraj was also seen as a Dalit-Bahujan counterpoint to Brahmanical hegemony in the fields of intellectual and cultural production.

But it is unfair to slot Nagaraj as merely a Dalit/Backward caste and/or Kanandiga intellectual. Although steeped in dalit-bahujan heritage and the literary and cultural milieu of Kannada and Karnataka, his work has universal provenance and value. After his death, for a little more than a decade, his writings remained more or less unavailable for the general public, till the cultural theorist Prithvi Datta Chandra Shobhi edited Nagaraj's works and made them current again. 

The book under review - 'Listening to the loom: Essays on literature, politics, and violence' - is a collection of essays by D.R. Nagaraj and forms the second volume in a series that seeks to collect his writings. The first volume of his essays edited by Chandra Shobhi and titled 'The flaming feet and other essays: The dalit movement in India' was published in 2010, and was received with gratitude and enthusiasm by scholars from across the world. These essays provided a genealogy of sorts of the dalit movement in India. A few key articles in the volume created a much needed bridge between the approaches of Gandhi and Ambedkar. 

The essays in the volume under discussion, in contrast, occupy a much larger canvas. 'Listening to the loom' has two distinct parts. The first section consisting of a set of six essays deals with the literature and culture of Karnataka. The second part has seven articles and deals with questions surrounding politics and violence with their social horizon being mostly that of India.

D. R. Nagaraj (1954-1998)
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons

The inaugural essay of the first section titled ‘Critical tensions in the history of Kannada literary culture’ is the longest piece in the volume running to 90 pages. It is an analytical overview of around 800 years of the history of Kannada literature, and provides plural narratives of the many traditions that go into its making, including those of heterodox ones such as the Jain and the Virashaiva ones.

This essay also complicates the picture of pre-colonial Indian literature by pointing out that the vachana literature of Karnataka need not be read as just another instant of the pan-Indian tradition of bhakti. Instead, Nagaraj argues that, the vachana corpus was in some sense a significant departure from prevalent literary practices in Kannada that tried to radically erase the extant differences between laukika (worldly) and agamika  (scriptural) literature in order to reconstitute the relationships between the body, writing, the world, and Shiva - the supreme being.

Two other essays in this section deal with the social world of Kannada literature; the pieces on the writers U. R. Ananthamruthy and Chandrashekar Kambara are especially perceptive, and provide alternative accounts of the relationship between the literary and the political in Karnataka and India.

The essays in the second section of the book deal with the relationship between politics and violence. Nagaraj advances his points (often startlingly novel and insightful) in a manner in which narrative and metaphor have a central role in the argumentation. In one of the essays in this section he argues that Gandhi’s psychologization of violence (in Nagaraj’s reading of Gandhi, the latter sees the origins of violence in the emotion of fear) leads a ways out of social scientific discussions of violence that take place around the tropes of nature and history.

As the editor of this volume suggests, this engagement with Gandhi can be seen as part of Nagaraj’s broader intellectual project that tried to go beyond the dichotomies of tradition and modernity in order to fashion alternatives futures for oppressed communities of India by finding resources of resilience and resistance in their own pasts and practices. This project needs to be taken forward, and Permanent Black and Dr Shobhi must be congratulated for the publication of this meticulously edited and produced volume.

Bibliographic Details: D. R. Nagaraj (edited by Prithvi Datta Chandra Shobhi). 2012. Listening to the loom: essays on literature, politics, and violence. Ranikhet: Permanent Black.  365 +xiii pages. Rs. 750 (Hardcover).

Note: A marginally different version of this review essay was earlier published with another title in the newsmagazine 'Hard News' in 2012.  

Saturday, March 20, 2021

The Three Chulhas of Balabhadrapura 

Sailen Routray

Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons
 

Baba had a transferable job with the Orissa State Electricity Board (OSEB) which is now long dead and gone. Our trips to Balabhadrapura (my ancestral village in Cuttack district in coastal Orissa, where baba’s youngest brother lived along with his wife, four children and his mother, my jejima) from baba’s places of posting, were first made on a Vijaya Super scooter and then on a Bajaj Chetak scooter. 

There would be five of us on the scooter, with baba driving it. Ma would ride pillion with Soni the youngest one sitting (and often dozing) on her lap. I, the eldest child, would be squeezed in the middle, very uncomfortably sitting between the two seats. Sili would stand on the foot-board in front of baba. When he was posted in Pipili, the nearly eighty kilometer long trip will take around three hours, for the five of us perched tenuously on the scooter. 

When we were young, this ritual took place at least thrice a year. The first one would be in March when we would travel home for the spring festival of dola (around the same time as Holi), that commemorates Krishna’s playing colour with the gopis. The second time was in June when in the middle of the month, and towards the end of the summer vacations, we would make the trip for the three-day long Raja festival that celebrates the earth’s fecundity, and is perhaps the most important one in the festive calendar of coastal Orissa. The third trip would be made either during the dasahara celebrations in Aswina or for the Christmas vacations. On our way to the village, we would stop at the tehsil headquarters of Salepur for picking up a small bag full of rasagola for everyone at home.

The house in Balabhadrapur was a mud one, thatched with straw, surrounded by a middling veranda both on the outside as well framing the inner courtyard. Although the house did have a front-yard, we almost always entered through the backyard door, as that was closer to the road from the village. Near this entrance, at a little distance from the veranda there was a chulah that was used for cooking all the food (such as chicken, eggs and field crabs) that were taboo for the caste of Khandayats that we belong to.

There was another chulah in the inner courtyard shaded by the roof of the inner veranda. This was the most frequently used fireplace in the house, even during the monsoons. Apart from rice and vegetarian dishes, non-vegetarian food that were not taboo, like mutton and fish, were cooked on this chulah. And there was a third one in the kitchen proper, that housed some of the family deities as well, where outsiders were denied access and family members could enter only when they were ritually clean after a proper bath.

The food related taboos among Khandayats mapped out differently across genders. The women could eat fish and goat meat, irrespective of their marital status, but not other meat like chicken (and other birds) and eggs. They were barred from handling these latter types of non-vegetarian food as well. Widows were not expected to forgo mutton, meat of buffaloes (killed during sacrifices) and fish. Since women were the custodians of the family hearth, only these non-vegetarian food items could be cooked in the chulah in the inner courtyard. The one in the kitchen was meant for cooking only vegetarian stuff. The men (and children from either gender) could eat meat ordinarily barred to women, but the cooking and the eating had to happen outside of the home.

Western Han Bronze Chicken (Wikimedia Commons)

Cooking meat that was taboo at home was the preserve of the third chulah in the backyard. These taboos also meant that men had to learn how to cook flesh like chicken and field crabs in the chulah outside of the home and had to eat it there as well. As a result, the skill of cooking non-vegetarian food of various kinds was universally widespread amongst Khandayat men and boys. All these dishes were rustic. The recipes were very simple so that they could be easily spruced up without the use of many tools and with very little spices. 

This all-male cooking relied primarily on condiments and herbs that were dry roasted earlier and ground to smooth powders and kept at home. Not much oil could be used; generally the meat was cooked in its own fat. A sub-set of these dishes was a variety called patra-poda in which the meat was first wrapped in leaves and was left to be charred and cooked in the dying embers of the chulah. Especially small fishes, tiny shrimps and field crabs were cooked in this manner. But that is another story, to be told some other time.

Khandayat style chicken tarakari (serves four)

Ingredients

A kilogram of desi chicken without the neck and the skin, four table spoons of mustard oil, 7-8 cloves of garlic, 2 inches’ long piece of ginger, one table spoon of turmeric powder, three teaspoonfuls of red chilly powder, a tea spoon of fennel powder, three tea spoons of cumin powder, juice of a lime, salt according to taste. 

Method

1. Dice the ginger into small slices and pound it together on a stone with the cloves of garlic into a rough paste without adding any water.

2. Cut the chicken into small pieces, clean thoroughly and put these in the aluminum wok in which it is to be cooked.

3. Add the mustard oil, the crushed ginger-garlic, turmeric powder, chilly powder, fennel powder, cumin powder, lime juice and salt to the chicken pieces. Mix thoroughly. Marinate for half an hour.

4. Put the wok the lowest flame possible on your gas stove, cover it with a lid and cook for around 60-70 minutes. Check intermittently to ensure that the chicken or the masala do not stick to the bottom of the wok.

5. When the chicken is done, add four cups of hot water and bring it to a boil on a high flame. When the gravy starts boiling, reduce the flame again and cook for 7-8 minutes.

6. If you want to serve this chicken dish with rice, then the gravy should be thin and watery. If it is accompanying chapatis/phulkas, you may boil the chicken for a few more minutes and make the gravy thick.

Note: A slightly different version of this piece was published in the Sunday Magazine of The Hindu newspaper on 11th August 2019.

Friday, March 12, 2021

ତୁମକୁ ଯେ ପ୍ରେମ କରିବି

ଶୈଲେନ ରାଉତରାୟ


ଚୀନ ଦେଶର ମୱା‌ଂଦୁଇରେ ପ୍ରାପ୍ତ ରେଶମରେ ଅଙ୍କିତ ଚିତ୍ର
ସମୟ - ୨୦୦ ସାଲ ଖ୍ରୀଷ୍ଟପୂର୍ବ
ଫଟୋ କ୍ରେଡ଼ିଟ୍ - ୱିକିମିଡିଆ କମନ୍ସ୍

ମାନିଲି ଯେ କେବେ ନା କେବେ ଥରେ
ମରିବା ଦରକାର
ହେଲେ ସେଥିପାଇଁ ମୁଁ ଯେ ନିଜେ ନିଜକୁ ହାଣିବି
ତା' ଜରୁରୀ ନୁହେଁ ।୧। 

ମାନିଲି ଯେ ଗାଁରେ ଘର କରିଥିଲେ ବେଳେବେଳେ 
ଭୋଟ ଦେବାକୁ ପଡ଼େ
ହେଲେ ସେଥିପାଇଁ ଯେ ଜିତିବାକୁ ଥିବା ଲୋକର ବୋତାମ ଚିପିବି
ତା' ଜରୁରୀ ନୁହେଁ ।୨।

ମାନିଲି ଯେ କଦବାକ୍ୱଚିତ 
ବ୍ରତ ଉପବାସ ରଖିବାକୁ ପଡ଼େ
ହେଲେ ସେଥିପାଇଁ କାର୍ତ୍ତିକରେ ଲକ୍ଷ୍ନୌରେ ଥିଲେ ବି ହବିଷ ଖାଇବି
ତା' ଜରୁରୀ ନୁହେଁ ।୩।

ମାନିଲି ବନ୍ଧୁ ଯେ ଏ ସହରରେ 
ତୁମଠୁଁ ସୁନ୍ଦର ଆଉ କେହି ନାହାନ୍ତି
ହେଲେ ମୋଠୁଁ ବଡ଼ ୱଫାଦାର ଯେ ପ୍ରେମୀ ଅଛନ୍ତି  
ତା' ଜରୁରୀ ନୁହେଁ ।୪।

ମାନିଲି ଯେ ଥରେ ହେଲେ ବି ଜୀବନରେ କାହାକୁ ଜଣେ
ଭଲ ପାଇବାକୁ ପଡ଼ିବ
ହେଲେ ସେଥିପାଇଁ ଶୈଲେନ ଯେ ତୁମକୁ ପ୍ରେମ କରିବ
ତା' ଜରୁରୀ ନୁହେଁ ।୫।

Thursday, March 11, 2021

ମୋର ଏବେ ବି ମନେ ଅଛି

ଶୈଲେନ ରାଉତରାୟ


ଫଟୋ କ୍ରେଡ଼ିଟ୍ - ୱିକିମିଡିଆ କମନ୍ସ୍
 
ଟିଫିନ ପଇସାରୁ ଟଙ୍କାଏ ଟଙ୍କାଏ ଯୋଡ଼ି
 ତୋ ପାଇଁ ଯେଉଁ ଟି-ସାର୍ଟ କିଣିଥିଲି ତା'ର ରଙ୍ଗ ତୁ ଭୁଲିଯାଇଚୁ ।
 ହେଲେ ତା'କୁ ପହିଲି ପିନ୍ଧା ବେଳର 
ତୋ ମୁହଁର ରଙ୍ଗ
 ମୋର ଏବେ ବି ମନେ ଅଛି ।୧।

 ମୋର ଷୋହଳତମ ଜନ୍ମଦିନରେ ତୁ ରାନ୍ଧିଥିବା 
 ପୋଡ଼ାଖିରିର ସୁଆଦ ତୁ ନିଜେ ଭୁଲିଯାଇଚୁ ।
 ହେଲେ ତା'କୁ ଖାଇସାରି ମୁଁ ଦେଇଥିବା 
ପ୍ରଥମ ବୋକର ସ୍ୱାଦ
 ମୋର ଏବେ ବି ମନେ ଅଛି ।୨।

 ମୋର ବାମ ନିତମ୍ବରେ କେଉଁଠି ହାତମାରିଲେ ମୋତେ କାଟେ
 ତା' ତୁ ଆରାମରେ ଭୁଲିଯାଇଚୁ ।
 ହେଲେ ତୋ ଡାହାଣ କଡ଼ରେ ଯେଉଁଠି ଛୁଇଁଲେ 
ତୋତେ ହସ ମାଡ଼େ
 ମୋର ଏବେ ବି ମନେ ଅଛି ।୩।

ମୋ ସେକ୍ସପିଅର୍, ଶ ଆଉ ମିଲର୍‌ର ନୋଟ୍‌ସ୍
ଯେ ତୋ ପାଖରେ ରହିଯାଇଛି, ତୁ ଭୁଲି ଯାଇଚୁ ।
ହେଲେ ଶେଷ ପରୀକ୍ଷାର ଫର୍ମଫିଲପ ପାଇଁ 
ତୋଠୁ ନେଇ ଫେରେଇନଥିବା ୧୩୫ ଟଙ୍କା ଧାର
ମୋର ଏବେ ବି ମନେ ଅଛି ।୪।

ଆମର ଅନ୍ତିମ ଦେଖାର ଦିନ ତାରିଖ ବାର
ସବୁ ତୁ ଭୁଲିଯାଇଚୁ ।
ହେଲେ ଆମ ପ୍ରଥମ ଦେଖାର 
ଦିବସ, ଦଣ୍ଡ, ନିମିଷ, ଏ ସବୁ
ଶୈଲେନର ଏବେ ବି ମନେ ଅଛି ।୫।

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

ଲହୁ ମୋର ଲୁହ ମୋର

(ଚୁଇଁ ପାଇଁ)

ଶୈଲେନ ରାଉତରାୟ


ଚିତ୍ର - 'ଟି ଡ୍ରିଙ୍କର୍, ହାଏ ଆଟ୍‌ଲାସ୍' (୨୦୦୭)
ଚିତ୍ରକର - ବିଲି ଚାଇଲ୍‌ଡିସ୍ (୧୯୫୯-ବର୍ତ୍ତମାନ)
ଫଟୋ କ୍ରେଡ଼ିଟ୍ - ୱିକିମିଡିଆ କମନ୍ସ୍
 

ଲହୁ ମୋର ଲୁହ ମୋର
ପାକିଟରେ ଭରା ରୁମାଲ ବି ମୋର
ଆଖି ପୋଛୁଥିବା ପାପୁଲି ବି ମୋର ହେଇଥା'ନ୍ତା
ଠିକଣା ସମୟରେ ଯା' ଖାଲି ଛାଡ଼ି ହେଲାନି ହାତ ତୋର ।୧।

ପାଣି ମୋର ହାଣ୍ଡି ମୋର
ଫୁଟିବାକୁ ଥିବା ଚାଉଳ ବି ମୋର
ଭାତ ରାନ୍ଧି ଖାଇ ବି ହେଇଥା'ନ୍ତା
ଖାଲି ଭାଙ୍ଗି ହେଲାନି ଉପବାସ ତୋ'ର ।୨। 

ମାଳ‌ି ମୋର ସୂତା ମୋର
ତୋ' ପ୍ରେମରେ କ୍ଷତବିକ୍ଷତ ବେକ ବି ମୋର
ମାଳ ପିନ୍ଧିଥ‌ିବା ଗଳା ବି ମୋର ହେଇଥା'ନ୍ତା
ଖାଲି ଉଜାଡ଼ି ହେଲାନି ଯା ଉପବନ ତୋର ।୩।

ଦିଅଁ ମୋର କ୍ଷେତ୍ର ମୋର
ଆକାଶଛୁଆଁ ଦେଉଳ ବି ମୋର
ପୂଜାର ଯଜମାନ ବି ତୋର ଏ ପ୍ରେମିକ ହେଇଥା'ନ୍ତା
ଖାଲି ସାରିପାରିଲିନି ଉପାସନା ତୋର ।୪।

ବେକ ମୋର ତଲୁଆର ମୋର
ମୃତ୍ୟୁଦଣ୍ଡର ଆଦେଶରେ ଦସ୍ତଖତ ବି ମୋର
କୋକେଇ ବହିବା ଲୋକର ହରିବୋଲ ବି ଶଇଲେନ୍‌ର ହେଇଥା'ନ୍ତା
କଣ କରିବି, ମଲା ପରେ ବି ମୋ କଣ୍ଠରେ ନାଁ ବି ତୋର ।୫।

Sunday, March 7, 2021

At the turn of the road while returning 

Sachhidananda Routray

Translation - Sailen Routray


A Korean Painting Made Between 1826-1830
Material - Paper, Silk and Wood
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons 
 
At the turning of the returning road,
In the emergent shadows
one saw
at the height of the night 
as white as a heron
an exquisite young maiden
clad in a plain saree.

Her body, a fluttering tiger lotus;
with the dark, poisonous dance of a peacock,
hovering beneath the thin, pale veil.
Like my destiny.
She had come 
like a solitary step in my fate 
in disguise.
(But only a solitary step).

Forgetting the dance of the moon and 
the shadows, and the bribe of death.
At the moment of dhanubhanga,
when bows are split.


A Cemetery in Silesia, Poland
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons 

Note: Sachhidananda Routray (1916-2004), popularly called Sachi Routray, was arguably the most important Odia poet of the 20th century.  Amongst many other honours, he was awarded with the Jnanpith award in 1986. Copyright of the English translation rests with the translator. 

Monday, March 1, 2021

ସେ ମୋତେ ବାବା କହିଲା

ବିନୋଦ କୁମାର ଶୁକ୍ଲା

ଅନୁୁବାଦକ - ଶୈଲେନ ରାଉତରାୟ


ବ୍ରାଜିଲର ଲାପିନ୍‌ହା ଗୁମ୍ଫାର ଦୃଶ୍ୟ
ଫଟୋ କ୍ରେଡ଼ିଟ୍ - ୱିକିମିଡିଆ କମନ୍ସ୍

ଘରବାଡ଼ି ଛାଡ଼ି ସନ୍ୟାସ ନେବିନାଇଁ
ନିଜର ସନ୍ୟାସରେ
ମୁଁ ଆହୁରି ଘରୁଆ ହେଇ ରହିବି
ଘରୁଆ, ଘରେ,
ଆଉ ପାଖପଡ଼ିଶାରେ ବି
 
ଗୋଟେ ଅଜଣା ପଡ଼ାରେ
ଗୋଟେ ଛୁଆ ମୋତେ ଦେଖିକରି ବାବା କହିଲା
ସେ ନିଜ ମାର କୋଳରେ ଥିଲା
ତା ମାର ଆଖିରେ
ଥିଲା ଖୁସିର ଚମକ
କାହିଁକି ନା’, ସେ ମୋତେ ବାବା କହିଲା
ଜଣେ ଅଜଣା, ନିଜର
ନିରୁତା ଆପଣାର

ବି.ଦ୍ର. - ବିନୋଦ କୁମାର ଶୁକ୍ଲାଙ୍କର ଜନ୍ମ ୧୯୩୭ ମସିହାରେ, ଏବେର ଛତିଶଗଡ଼ ରାଜ୍ୟର ରାଜନନ୍ଦଗାଓଁରେ । ଜବଲପୁରସ୍ଥ ଜୱାହରଲାଲ କୃଷି ବିଶ୍ୱବିଦ୍ୟୟାଳୟରୁ କୃଷିବିଜ୍ଞାନରେ ସ୍ନାତକୋତ୍ତର ଉପାଧି ଲାଭ କରିସାରି ସେ ରାୟପୁରର କୃଷି ମହାବିଦ୍ୟାଳୟରେ ଅଧ୍ୟାପକ ଭାବରେ ଯୋଗ ଦେଲେ । ନିଜର ମ୍ୟାଜିକ୍‌-ରିଆଲିଜମ୍‌ଧର୍ମୀ ଉପନ୍ୟାସ ତଥା ଜୀବନବାଦୀ, ଭିନ୍ନ ସ୍ୱାଦର କବିତା ପାଇଁ ସେ ହିନ୍ଦୀ ଓ ଭାରତୀୟ ସାହିତ୍ୟ ଜଗତରେ ଜଣାଶୁଣା । ତାଙ୍କର ଗଦ୍ୟକୃତି ଓ କବିତାଗୁଡ଼ିକ ବହୁଳ ଭାବରେ ଆଦୃତ ଓ ଅନୁଦିତ । ତାଙ୍କର ଅନେକ କାହାଣୀ ଫିଲ୍ମର ରୂପ ମଧ୍ୟ ପାଇଛି । ତନ୍ମଧ୍ୟରୁ ପ୍ରସିଦ୍ଧ ସିନେନିର୍ମାତା ମଣି କୌଲ 'ଏକ୍ ନୌକର୍ କି କମିଜ୍' ଉପନ୍ୟାସ ଉପରେ ଏକ ସମନାମ୍ନୀ ଚଳଚିତ୍ର ନିର୍ମାଣ କରିଥିଲେ । ଅନ୍ୟାନ୍ୟ ପୁରସ୍କାର ଭିତରୁ 'ଦିୱାର୍ ମେଁ ଏକ ଖିଡ଼୍‌କି ରହ୍‌ତି ଥି' ଉପନ୍ୟାସଟି ପାଇଁ ୧୯୯୯ ମସିହାରେ ସେ କେନ୍ଦ୍ର ସାହିତ୍ୟ ଅକାଦେମୀ ସମ୍ମାନ ଲାଭ କରିଛନ୍ତି ।

What I want to talk about Sailen Routray Detail of the Church of the Assumption of Mary in Lychivka, Khmelnytskyi Raion, Khmelnytskyi Oblast...