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 ..here 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





6 comments:

anilkurup said...

You did a reasonable translation of Sri Ayappan's poem.

I do not agree with the conformist view of life, though paradoxically I'm to an extent conforming, at least with regard to marriage,and reproduction.But being, shall I say an anarchist( or wonder if the word nihilism) is proper description of late Sri Ayappan. That quality perhaps gave him the leverage to create .

I'm not a fan of poetry, though reading poetry is slowly settling in me now.
The poem last noted by Sri Ayappan and found on his person is in retrospect a harbinger of his death. Don't you think so?

scarlet pimpernel said...

Thank you

The poem found on his person indeed seems like a harbinger of his death.

Gran said...

This is a beautiful poem. It seems to me that A. Ayyappan lived his life the way he wished. Good for him!

scarlet pimpernel said...

@ Gran

Indeed, he lived life in his own terms much like howard roark.

Insignia said...

Thanks for sharing this. He seemed to have live life on his terms. And his last poem seems to be written specifically for him.

Unruly Rebel said...

nice read, hey keep postin such stuff its good to read....

Unruly Rebel
something THEY call life