Lover

Akhila Nayak

Translated by Sailen Routray 

Stump of a Cherry Tree in Dülmen, Germany
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons

Don’t call me a murderer;

for the whole of my life,

I have only loved.

 

I have learnt the arts of loving

from the hand that irrigates the gourds;

I have also learnt it

from the axe.

 

I have dragged the plow

with my own shoulders,

transplanted wisps of paddy,

weeded fields infested with leeches;

in fields of green leafy vegetables,

I have melted and poured myself

on to the thirsty tongues of the shoots;

yes, I have loved. 

 

Now my measures are full;

my baskets overflow

with paddy and vegetables.

The trees stand tall

with their hands and legs

spread far and wide.

Now, I’ll light a fire and cook;

as my belly burns with hunger.

 

All love is meant for quenching hungers;

oh paddy plants,

friends,

brothers,

please do not call me

a murderer.

 

If needed,

even I

will reach your hungers

as broken grains of rice,

as dew,

as fire,

as breath.

 

Therefore,

please don’t call me

a murderer.

Note: This poem was originally published in the collection titled 'Dhobapharaphara' - 'Stark White'. The work of Akhila Naik (1968-2021) has been at the forefront of a process of transformation of Odia poetry over the last three decades where the language and concerns of the common people have come to the fore. Although he is primarily known as a poet in his home state, with multiple poetry collections published to wide acclaim, to the wider literary field in India he is known as the writer of the the first Odia Dalit novel 'Bheda' (originally published in 2010), that was translated by the Delhi based academic Raj Kumar and published by OUP in 2017.