Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
Even though the title of this poem is Flute, the word ‘flute’ is not mentioned in the body of the poem. The poet conveys that the instrument being played is a flute through the phrase “the doing of the lips and the fingers”, as she sits on a pinda—a low structure built against the outer walls in Santal houses which are used as seats and tables or for other purposes. The Creator too plays Her creations – humans, rivers, clouds, wind, hills, the flora and the fauna, etc. – like a flute.
My mind gloomy, I sit in silence
On the pinda on a sad afternoon.
Several thoughts tumble through my mind,
My insides are shaking.
I feel two teardrops
Roll down my face.
All of a sudden, I hear your call
From somewhere…afar.
My insides flutter as I hear you.
Your sorrow seems greater than mine.
Tell me, what has made you sad?
Tell me, why your call
Pierced my insides?
Why do you make such a sharp call?
I wonder who is creating
Such a dirge upon you.
Perhaps it’s to lessen your sorrow?
The musician is a master
Able to create tunes on you any way he prefers.
If he plays a happy tune on you,
I am sure my gloomy mind too would be delighted.
You have such a dulcet voice.
The sad and the happy voices, both yours.
Yet, you do not speak by yourself.
It’s the doing of the lips and the fingers
That creates such myriad calls.
The Creator’s doing too is such.
If She makes you cry, you cry.
If She makes you laugh, you laugh.
This is how human life is.
There is nothing to human life.
It’s all the doing of the Creator’s fingers.