Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










SWASTIK by Anitha Thampi

Snake,
stairs,
a man and woman in embrace, the dance of Nataraja

Flower,
criss-cross windows, a water wheel wet from paddy fields

Thorn fence,
a cross bent at its tip
by unknown miscreants

A park bench, iron heaped up in the scrap yard

A four-petal fan,
two pigeons entwined, pecking on four directions

Runner,
a ball made of palm leaves, children who somersault like ‘ഗ’ and ‘ട’

A water bug,
name unknown,
the number forty-five

Pig-iron tongs,
a tattoo that swings past and disappears on the street

Whirlpool,
flash of lightning, a leather puppet,
a sun that has been rising since the beginning of time

Just this, no, nothing else, yet a sudden memory
a flash of fear.

 

NOTE

Translated from the original with the same title.

‘ഗ’ and ‘ട’ are letters from the Malayalam alphabet.

 

 

 

Anitha Thampi