Saturday, October 23, 2010

With out a forwarding address.

I am sure most of you never came across the name A. Ayyappan. He was a poet in "malayalam" my mother tongue. A true Bohemian in every sense he lost his parents very early and started writing at a very early age. The last of the anarchists of his time he never built a home or did start a family. He slept on verandhas and bus stations and stayed with his friends whenever it pleased him.

He was a poet of the youth. May be he was the only poet in my land who was given a welcome in the local market. He was the most famous orphan of my land and yet he had no forwarding address. He was found unconsious on the streets of thiruvananthapuram 2 days ago and was recognised only when he was being moved to the mortuary. His last poem was found inside the folds of his shirt sleeve. Its in malayalam but i have attempted to transalate it it goes

The Teeth

An Arrow will hit me

Any moment from now

I am but running for my life

The Hunters Shack is Behid ME

A gang after my flesh

And the trees gave me no refuge

I opened the door of the rock

Stood still while he roared

And i am his meal, with pleasure