Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










TWO MINIATURES by Anand Thakore

i

Diwali on the Palace Roof

Kishangarh, 18th century


Where the light from my reading-lamp falls on this open page
It is always Diwali night and we have nothing to do

But wait and watch while the palace concubines
Lift and wave lit sparklers to amuse us;

Watch black and gold revive old questions,
Till gold betrays its transience, yielding to black—

Each minuscule spark, frozen in paint,
Resigning itself in sudden contentment

To the knowledge of its own brevity,
Coming gently to understand

That night will have her way and must be allowed to.
Where the light from this reading lamp falls

On this open page, we begin to see
That fire is just another game night likes to play,

That this is true of each of us too,
That we are aspects of the night,

And night will have her way.


ii

Sudama Takes Krishna’s Leave

Chamba Valley, 18th century


Here colour reserves the right to hold back the future:
Raw contrast of the feather-crowned monarch’s

Fine yellow robes and gold brick walls,
With the frayed grey loincloth of his departing friend,

Now turning to take his host’s final leave,
Now navigating,

Homebound and out alone in the open,
Beyond sealed gates and thick, outer walls of gold,

A sparse, pathless green
Which reveals no hint of the miracle that awaits him:

The sudden undreamed-of house with its plates of gold coins,
The abundance of his courtyard, the laughter of his children,

Upon this page forever postponed.


ANAND THAKORE