कोणीतरी रडतंय (Somebody's Crying)

Arun Kolatkar

the crackers burst relentlessly outside the verandah, in intervals marked by the wild barking of the gypsy dog, with his warm shock of bobbing black tail. it is the first anniversary of the death of the idea of india, and the house in front of where I’m staying currently, has lit diyas in jingoistic celebration. the machinery of the cowering fanatic, the despot propped up by earnest attendants, has grown tendrils into the soft earth of belief.

if kolatkar was here, he would have had a wry, knowing, cynical half-smile on his haggard gray face, with a cigarette diagonally placed between his lips. I’m sharing the second poem from his collection भिजकी वही, ‘कोणीतरी रडतंय’. The English trans-creation is by Aranya and Sitaphala.

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