He will fulfil all your desires

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

Tulips by Mughal era artist Ustad Mansur
Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons

He will fulfil all your desires.

He is present as the formless emptiness. [0]

The fourteen worlds vibrate.

Blessed is the grace 

of the Name that is audible. [1]

Meditate and walk on the path of righteousness.

Unceasingly ask for protection. [2]

Have His vision every morning and evening.

Knowing the mind, 

He will surely be pleased. [3]

Reason out both Truth and Reality.

Recognize the formless

while remaining in form. [4]

Every moment seek the company of saints

and serve them.

Carry the sayings of the Master in your head. [5]

From this illusory world redeem me;

For this, Bhima Bhoi seeks refuge. [6]

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics. 

First line of the bhajan in Odia: "Karibe mana kamana purna go" 

Drown your body in the ocean of being

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

  Jaali work at Safdarjung Tomb, Delhi
Wikimedia Commons/Pallav.journo

Drown your body 

in the ocean of being. [0]

That ocean of being?

Take refuse in that.

Carrying out

what the master orders. [1]

You will be saved

when you practice thatness.

You will be met 

in the Brahman.

The three gunas will then fall off 

becoming without desires. [2]

A human birth is of value.

Cognize it in this body.

You won't get this

rare birth again. [3]

The Brahman is indivisible.

It's not possible to break it into parts.

You will be saved from this earth 

only when you take refuse in that. [4]

Offer this body and life

to the Lord.

You will be redeemed

when the embodied one 

expands in the Brahman. [5]

Bhima the Kondh says

this verse is entangled.

It's the enlightened ones

who like the dharma.

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics. 

First line of the bhajan in Odia: "Brahma sagare pinda jhasAa nei" 

That uncreated wind moves

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

The arched jali of Humayun's Tomb
featuring a 6-fold Islamic geometric pattern
Photo credit: https://commons.wikimedia.org/Hu741f4/

That uncreated wind moves

through the night and the day.

Who has found its beginning or the end?

Where are the marks it leaves? [0]

Its path is an emptiness in the great space.

One meets it in formlessness, and in no-colour, 

No one could penetrate it and get hold of it,

either through the body or in the world. [1] 

It's not to be found at the doors

of wakefulness or perception. 

Nor does it reside in the mind.

It cannot be felt at all in the body, 

or in its shadows, or its illusions. [2]

At the door of desires and imagination

it does not get mixed up in the five senses.

Who would find it,

one who does not have a breath or a shadow? [3]

It does not enter the shapes of words.

It's beyond the twenty one worlds.

It's the essence underlying everything,

with its only feet remaining hidden, submerged. [4]

It's not to be found in human habitations.

Where does it reside?

He, who will take me to it,

I will hold on to his feet. [5]

It does not partake of devotion and service.

It cannot be seen. Nor can one talk about it.

It stays alone, all by itself,

says Bhima Bhoi. [6]

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics. 

First line of the bhajan in Odia: "Bahuchhi abanaa baai, dibaa nisi eka hoi" 

That effulgent radiance

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

Photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org/Mayooranathan 

That effulgent radiance

does not allow itself to to caught.

The Self that is beyond all light

sports therein. [0]

It seems as if It has forms.

But It roams in formlessness.

It abides in a place 

that remains invisible. [1]

It stays unmanifest.

There is no speech forthcoming from It.

But It flows from the beings of those

who abide in grace. [2]

If you try to cognise It

by the operations of duality,

It slips through your fingers.

Its limbs are exceedingly smooth. [3]

It creates through desirelessness.

It persists in deep wisdom.

It exists surely in no-thought. [4]

    It flows from nothingness.

That absolute bliss stems 

from the verses that stream

from His lotus feet. [5] 

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics. 

Go through the scripture of the body

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

Shadows of a group of tourists, including a photographer,
on the slope of Mount Bromo volcano, Indonesia
Photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org/Jakub Hałun

Go through the scripture of this body.

Recognize the forms 

and choose the one that you must. [0]

The body extends.

It carries the empty mansion within.

Oh wise ones, understand the body.

You will surely then

arrive at the house of the absolute. [1]

In this vessel of the body

you carry the eternal one.

Manifestly, you move it back and forth.

When this vessel dissolves, 

who will be able to see His grace? [2]   

I speak directly, in front of your eyes.

But you think of it as a dream. 

This body that is the universe,

functions with His commands,

which melts even stones. [3]

Do not roam around deluded 

in the world outside.

Move towards determining the self.

To become acquainted with the ultimate,

persist in your pursuit.

He will take you to the city immaterial. [4]

The ultimate truth is always, already available.

It operates through actions.

Serve the Guru. 

Follow It through meditation,

the one who resides inside this body. [5]

He is the formless Being.

He can be seen through desireless devotion.

Bhima the Kondh says,

the lake of the Guru's lotus feet

lie high above this body. [6]

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics.

He is a slave to devotion

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

Photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org/Mayooranathan

He is a slave
to His devotees' devotion. [0]

He is not there in desires.

He abides in desirelessness. 

He reveals Himself in true speech. [1]

Have you been initiated with a mantra?

Have you made someone into a guru?

The instructions 

are available beforehand. [2]

An embodied being is born.

It won't take anything along.

What remain 

are honour and dishonour. [3]

The Lord has given everything 

in the womb itself.

All that has perished 

through the pursuit of one's own happiness. [4]

One could not quite get hold of It.

One is caught in delusion.

That is nobody's fault. [5]

Bhima the Kondh says,

do not blame the Guru.

The grace of his feet are endless. [6]

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics.

Pray unceasingly

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

Photo credit: https://commons.wikimedia.org/Sebokvasnak

Pray unceasingly

and you will cross this ocean of the world.

The Name is flowing down

from the indestructible one. [0]

Forsake pleasure and enjoyment.

Take the earth as your seat.

Remove birth and death

from this body. [1]

Control lust, anger, greed, attachment,

deceit, competitiveness, violence and malice.

True knowledge will help you

keep these under subjection. [2]

Leave slander 

and speaking words that are untrue.

Stay firm

in unknowing.

Rising in service,

drink the nectar from His feet. [3]

That is the world's essence.

That is always in bloom, like a flower. 

It is that from which 

the ten avatars arise and subside. [4]

He who is free 

through the four ages,

now call out to Him.

You will surely be redeemed

with the master's grace. [5]

Kali is raging through.  

Righteousness has lost all honour.

All Bhima Bhoi asks

is to be saved from censure. [6] 

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics.

It's righteousness that sustains the world

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

Geometry by chance
https://commons.wikimedia.org/Christian Vollmer

It's righteousness that sustains the world 

through the four ages. [0]

Those who recognise the soul

by donating food,

and practice peace, virtue, mercy and forgiveness,

come under its dominion. [1]

Surrender to the Name.

Show mercy to all living beings.

There is no dharma truer than this

in the whole wide world. [2]

Know through the body.

Then it would be evident

that the indescribable, formless Being 

fills all the pots holding life. [3] 

That Being is the inner witness.

Endless is His grace.

Knowing adoration and service,

He is revealed in devotion. [4]

When His Being is probed in the mind

is only then that truth is performed. 

If one feels so, then He is nearby,

having arisen for the devotees' welfare. [5]

Tears flow from both the eyes.

My heart is in torment.

Bhima Kandha, the devotee,

is seeking him ceaselessly. [6]  

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics.

Worship the indescribable 

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

A circular shape created using light painting
https://commons.wikimedia.org/Subhrajyoti07

Worship the form

that is indescribable. 

Even the yogis have not been able

to describe that Being. [0]

Sarala the realized sage

could not describe Him.

His name being formless, imperishable,

recognize Him and hold on to Him. [1]

The sages Narada, Agasti, Kanva and Kapila 

reposed their minds on Him

through yoga and meditation.

Still He could not be seen by them. [2] 

Even Brahma meditated on Him

but could not find the design into the emptiness,

despite seeking for His feet that rids one of fear,

in the four vedas. [3] 

He is not to be found in the four vedas.

How would those 

who look for Him there, find Him?

The six limbs of the vedas have no contact

with that indescribable Being. [4]

He is there in this body.

Recognize Him. Find Him. 

Hold on to Him.

He who can recognize Him

will survive the four ages. [5]

Bhima the Kondh says this

while looking for the feet of his Lord.

Those who keep on looking 

for that nameless Being

come to know 

that He has no end. [6] 

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics.

Roam and see, in this forest of creepers

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

Photo credit: https://commons.wikimedia.org/Helen Sharp

Roaming in this forest of creepers,
see this pair of flowers.
Every day these two take on forms
across the three worlds. [0]

The roots of this tree of appearance
are not developed much.
But it seems twice the size of the axis
around which the earth revolves. [1]

It’s not the month of Chaitra,
but it flowers even when it’s not spring.
It flowers and falls off everyday.
It does not persist. [2]

These hang underneath a tree
that has no shadow.
When they would fall off from the buds,
they will all perish. [3]

Its form and colour
are visible in four ways.
It has no nectar.
It’s filled with poison. [4]

The fourth petal grows
from the second one.
The petals have four different colours,
near which even the bumblebees do not go. [5]

This is apparent in the minds of the devotees.
The righteous ones, partake of its smell,
says Bhima Bhoi. [6]

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics.

The empty temple is its abode

Bhima Bhoi

Translated by Sailen Routray

A palm leaf umbrella traditionally carried by the monks of Mahima religion
Photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org/Swetapadma07

Without form or shape,
the empty temple is its abode.

The two feet do not mix,

hold on to the lone foot. [0]

Its home is

the unmarked harbour.

There, it is neither pleasant

nor is it hot.

Oh wise ones, reflect on this. [1]

It’s sweet to drink stuff

that does not have flesh and

is not touched by another mouth.

Its taste is unseen, unnamed;

such is this, the essence of nectar. [2]

Seeing the grace of its moves

the learned are distracted to death.

It is faster than a blink,

far swifter than lightening. [3]

When one sees it in unknowing,

one goes beyond birth and death,

dissolving in its wholeness. [4]

It’s not gotten by any actions,

neither mundane nor spiritual.

One gets it in the company of the wise.

Its initiation is action without desire,

following ones nature.

It only entails chanting the singular letter. [5]

There is no arising or setting

where it resides.

This secret is beyond the alphabet,

says Bhima, the unprotected one. [6]

Note: Bhima Bhoi (1850-1895) was an 19th century Odia saint poet. His compositions were instrumental in the spread of Mahima religion in peninsular India, especially in the Odia speaking regions. His bhajans remain popular even today, and are performed widely. Although he was ignored by the literary establishment of his times, he is a major figure in the history of Odia literature now, with texts like "Stuti Chintamani" and "Bramha Nirupana Gita" considered as classics. 

Belief

Ramakanta Samantaray

Translated by Sailen Routray

 Doorway and wall on Latsakhanai Road, Savannakhet, Laos
Photo credit - commons.wikimedia.org/Dominic Nelson

We walked together for so long.
But we lost our feet
somewhere halfway through the path.

We talked so much

about home, about stars, about dreams.

But we lost our words

somewhere halfway through the path.

Despite all the camaraderie

you thought I am hiding 

a sharp knife tucked somewhere on the waist.

Despite all our acquaintance

I could not know you. 

Note: The Odia original of this translated poem is sourced from the poetry collection 'Asaranti rekhachitra', published in 2022 by Bhubaneswar-based publication house Barsha Publication. The poet Ramakanta Samantaray, born in 1972, has studied painting at the Bibhuti Kanungo College of Art and Craft (Bhubaneswar), and Odia Literature and Language at the Utkal University (Bhubaneswar). His doctoral work was a meditation on contemporary theatre in Odia. With this combination of literature, language, and the visual arts, he has been constantly working to create hybrid narratives. Apart from being a painter, he has also published fifteen books, including collections of poems and short stories, and novels. He has written and published articles on art, artists, and monographs in Odia. He presently lives and works in Bhubaneswar. 

Event

Ramakanta Samantaray

Translated by Sailen Routray

St. Nicholas Church in Mavrovo, North Macedonia. built in 1850
commons.wikimedia.org/Daniela Stefanoska

You had come so soundlessly that

while opening the closed door

there wasn't even a creak. 

You came, it felt nice.

All the old things

started looking new.

Birds who had lost their voice

started singing.

The wind opened the window

and started being naughty.

The whole city's moonlight came

and heaped up on the courtyard and the terrace.

Flowers showered themselves

on the tree that was long asleep.

Life,

started feeling good again.

What inopportune thing did I say

that you got up and went out

at such an odd hour?

You slammed the standing door

with such a bang

that it burst like thunder.

After having come so silently

you left with so much noise

that my heart is now deaf. 

Note: The Odia original of this translated poem is sourced from the poetry collection 'Asaranti rekhachitra', published in 2022 by Bhubaneswar-based publication house Barsha Publication. The poet Ramakanta Samantaray, born in 1972, has studied painting at the Bibhuti Kanungo College of Art and Craft (Bhubaneswar), and Odia Literature and Language at the Utkal University (Bhubaneswar). His doctoral work was a meditation on contemporary theatre in Odia. With this combination of literature, language, and the visual arts, he has been constantly working to create hybrid narratives. Apart from being a painter, he has also published fifteen books, including collections of poems and short stories, and novels. He has written and published articles on art, artists, and monographs in Odia. He presently lives and works in Bhubaneswar. 

The kite

Ramakanta Samantaray

Translated by Sailen Routray

The installation "Tusch" by Nevin Aladağ (1972-)
Photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org/Kaethe17

The kite is flying in a sky 

that is clean.

It looks really nice.

Only the spool is in my hand.

The kite has escaped

taking all the threads with it. 

I stretch my hands

but it doesn't reach.

Where is a hand though

that can reach the sky?

The kite is no longer mine.

It hurts, when I realise this.

Note: The Odia original of this translated poem is sourced from the poetry collection 'Asaranti rekhachitra', published in 2022 by Bhubaneswar-based publication house Barsha Publication. The poet Ramakanta Samantaray, born in 1972, has studied painting at the Bibhuti Kanungo College of Art and Craft (Bhubaneswar), and Odia Literature and Language at the Utkal University (Bhubaneswar). His doctoral work was a meditation on contemporary theatre in Odia. With this combination of literature, language, and the visual arts, he has been constantly working to create hybrid narratives. Apart from being a painter, he has also published fifteen books, including collections of poems and short stories, and novels. He has written and published articles on art, artists, and monographs in Odia. He presently lives and works in Bhubaneswar. 

Questions and answers

Ramakanta Samantaray

Translated by Sailen Routray

Palmas Gate, Badajoz, Spain (2020)
Photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org/Diego Delso

The sky again looked clear.

But by then 

following the dark clouds,

the day's sun had returned

along with the nomadic birds.

The crape jasmine in the courtyard

looked so weepy

that to make it stop

I ended up crying.

And my crying!

It's a thing to watch.

For my home and family,

for love and betrayals 

I have never cried. 

I have never even cried for you.

Have I?

In this thicket of the world

there were so many reasons to cry,

even then, I had never cried, not even once.

The star that has left its home early, alone, 

alone in its eagerness, 

before the evening will ask,

"Why did you cry then?"

By the time I would have looked 

for an answer in a hurry,

it would be pitch dark.

Smiling, white flowers

would have showered themselves on the pinwheel 

that looked weepy an hour earlier.

In the crowded market of stars

filling up the sky

that lonely star would have forgotten its question.,

On this side, 

while carefully opening up the knot on my waist,

my answer would also have been slowly lost. 

 

Note: The Odia original of this translated poem is sourced from the poetry collection 'Asaranti rekhachitra', published in 2022 by Bhubaneswar-based publication house Barsha Publication. The poet Ramakanta Samantaray, born in 1972, has studied painting at the Bibhuti Kanungo College of Art and Craft (Bhubaneswar), and Odia Literature and Language at the Utkal University (Bhubaneswar). His doctoral work was a meditation on contemporary theatre in Odia. With this combination of literature, language, and the visual arts, he has been constantly working to create hybrid narratives. Apart from being a painter, he has also published fifteen books, including collections of poems and short stories, and novels. He has written and published articles on art, artists, and monographs in Odia. He presently lives and works in Bhubaneswar. 

The infinite game

Ramakanta Samantaray

Translated by Sailen Routray

Cape Town (ZA), Waterfront, Clock Tower, Detail
commons.wikimedia.org/Dietmar Rabich

Perhaps some other time

at some other place

we might meet again.

What would it have for us though?

The time would have been over. 

You will look at me

with a deeply unknowing glance.

I will avoid you

knowingly.

After so many years

the heart would have turned to stone.

Today mine own

tomorrow, someone else's

tomorrow someone else's

today mine own.

In this infinite game

tell honestly

who belongs to whom?

Note: The Odia original of this translated poem is sourced from the poetry collection 'Asaranti rekhachitra', published in 2022 by Bhubaneswar-based publication house Barsha Publication. The poet Ramakanta Samantaray, born in 1972, has studied painting at the Bibhuti Kanungo College of Art and Craft (Bhubaneswar), and Odia Literature and Language at the Utkal University (Bhubaneswar). His doctoral work was a meditation on contemporary theatre in Odia. With this combination of literature, language, and the visual arts, he has been constantly working to create hybrid narratives. Apart from being a painter, he has also published fifteen books, including collections of poems and short stories, and novels. He has written and published articles on art, artists, and monographs in Odia. He presently lives and works in Bhubaneswar. 

Guest

Ramakanta Samantaray

Translated by Sailen Routray

Waterdrops on Echeveria (Mysuru, Karnataka, India)
Photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org/Timothy A. Gonsalves

Why had he come

at such an odd hour?

I really do not know.

Does anyone ever come to our home 

after checking the dates,

that he would have written us

a letter before arriving?

But your job was

to just open the door.

After you would have given 

a glass of cool water and some tea

then he would have talked

about his home, village,

health, happiness, sorrows,

and unwritten poems

or his state of affairs

or some good news.

You could not know.

Or did you stay silent, 

despite knowing?

That I could not know.

He went back from the door.

It did not open.

Where he did go

after returning from here,

I do not know.

I wasn't home.

Was I really

not at home that day?

Perhaps I was there.

Perhaps I was knocking on the door

after having become the noon, the loo.

Perhaps despite knowing everything,

I had not opened the door,

having become darkness, 

and rooted in ignorance.

Perhaps... 

Note: The Odia original of this translated poem is sourced from the poetry collection 'Asaranti rekhachitra', published in 2022 by Bhubaneswar-based publication house Barsha Publication. The poet Ramakanta Samantaray, born in 1972, has studied painting at the Bibhuti Kanungo College of Art and Craft (Bhubaneswar), and Odia Literature and Language at the Utkal University (Bhubaneswar). His doctoral work was a meditation on contemporary theatre in Odia. With this combination of literature, language, and the visual arts, he has been constantly working to create hybrid narratives. Apart from being a painter, he has also published fifteen books, including collections of poems and short stories, and novels. He has written and published articles on art, artists, and monographs in Odia. He presently lives and works in Bhubaneswar. 

Snake

Ramakanta Samantaray

Translated by Sailen Routray

Three Old Ladies (1916) by Jēkabs Kazaks  (1895 - 1920)
Photo credit - commons.wikimedia.org

A snake.

Seeing a snake,

I took a couple of steps back.

You said, "Shoo!

Where is the snake?

It's a rope!"

You swept the rope away

with your legs

and moved ahead.

Now the snake hisses.

The rope has turned into a snake.

You are calling me

with a lot of affection,

that I know.

Try and understand my state though.

It is not possible to move ahead.

There is a snake on the road.

The snake has raised its hood

and lies astride the path.

Note: The Odia original of this translated poem is sourced from the poetry collection 'Asaranti rekhachitra', published in 2022 by Bhubaneswar-based publication house Barsha Publication. The poet Ramakanta Samantaray, born in 1972, has studied painting at the Bibhuti Kanungo College of Art and Craft (Bhubaneswar), and Odia Literature and Language at the Utkal University (Bhubaneswar). His doctoral work was a meditation on contemporary theatre in Odia. With this combination of literature, language, and the visual arts, he has been constantly working to create hybrid narratives. Apart from being a painter, he has also published fifteen books, including collections of poems and short stories, and novels. He has written and published articles on art, artists, and monographs in Odia. He presently lives and works in Bhubaneswar. 

Tell the truth 

Ramakanta Samantaray

Translated by Sailen Routray

Sun setting behind a wild mute swan at Lake Geneva
Photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org/Giles Laurent

The flower had bloomed.

The flower, after blooming, had withered.

True.

The flower had bloomed,

was lost after withering and falling off.

So, even its smell has disappeared from the garden,

that's untrue. 

Do not tell me lies.

The front door is closed.

The window on the wall is shut.

Darkness fills the house.

True.

That inside the arrested darkness

held by by the closed door and the shut window

light is not sitting with its legs crossed,

that's untrue.

Do not tell me lies.

The friend who had come 

into the house 

went back following the same path.

True. 

The man who had come

into the house

is exactly the same one who went out,

that's untrue.

Do not tell me lies.

Now tell me, who is that man?

You or I?

Only this once, please tell the truth.

Do not tell lies.

Note: The Odia original of this translated poem is sourced from the poetry collection 'Asaranti rekhachitra', published in 2022 by Bhubaneswar-based publication house Barsha Publication. The poet Ramakanta Samantaray, born in 1972, has studied painting at the Bibhuti Kanungo College of Art and Craft (Bhubaneswar), and Odia Literature and Language at the Utkal University (Bhubaneswar). His doctoral work was a meditation on contemporary theatre in Odia. With this combination of literature, language, and the visual arts, he has been constantly working to create hybrid narratives. Apart from being a painter, he has also published fifteen books, including collections of poems and short stories, and novels. He has written and published articles on art, artists, and monographs in Odia. He presently lives and works in Bhubaneswar. 

In between going and coming

Ramakanta Samantaray

Translated by Sailen Routray

Photo credit - A. R. Vasavi

The one who had said yes,

said no.

The one who had turned one back

now said yes and called one home.

Then mangoes returned to their panicles,

fishes to water,

clothes to their racks,

birds returned to the sky.

Lazy rivers said a clear no

to turn back.

 Flavours, dreams, anger, jealousy, 

fear, butterflies and snakes, etc., also

said they won't return to our conversations.

We also said 

we won't come back from Chandrabhaga 

before the moon sets.

Yes, we came back that day

only after the darkness was over,

by then the shadows had retired into the darkness

by then only the long legs of the tired days

were hanging down from the branches

of the trees of the night.

While coming back home

following a sliver of light

it felt in the middle of the road

that between you and I

one of us could not return

from the seashore that day. 

Note: The Odia original of this translated poem is sourced from the poetry collection 'Asaranti rekhachitra', published in 2022 by Bhubaneswar-based publication house Barsha Publication. The poet Ramakanta Samantaray, born in 1972, has studied painting at the Bibhuti Kanungo College of Art and Craft (Bhubaneswar), and Odia Literature and Language at the Utkal University (Bhubaneswar). His doctoral work was a meditation on contemporary theatre in Odia. With this combination of literature, language, and the visual arts, he has been constantly working to create hybrid narratives. Apart from being a painter, he has also published fifteen books, including collections of poems and short stories, and novels. He has written and published articles on art, artists, and monographs in Odia. He presently lives and works in Bhubaneswar.