Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
In C Rajagopalachari’s telling of the Mahabharatha, Sukracharya’s daughter Devayani was once pushed into a well by princess Sharmishtha. Yayati, the Kshatriya king, comes to her rescue. Devayani asks him to marry her since, in helping her out of the well, he had held her by her right hand. Yayati refuses, arguing that he is a kshatriya and she a Brahmin. Eventually though, Devayani proves successful in persuading him to marry her. For having pushed Devayani into the well, Sharmishta is forced to work as her hand maiden. Yayati takes Sharmistha too as his wife. An infuriated Devayani complains to Sukracharya who curses Yayati with premature old age. Yayati pleads for forgiveness and Sukracharya declares that he can go back to being a young man again if he is successful in persuading someone to exchange their youth for his age. Yayati appeals to his sons for help. Only his fifth son, Puru, agrees to the exchange. Yayati becomes a young man once again while Puru takes upon himself the burden of old age. After many years of living with an apsara in the garden of Kubera, Yayati sees the error of his ways. He returns Puru’s youth to him and becomes the old man he was meant to be all along.
amaltas showers…
I shelter
from my own sadness
Draw the curtains, quick, sakhi.
I can no longer bear the sight
of the amaltas blooming.
He rails against me, my faithless husband,
blames me for his silver hair and wrinkled face.
It is all your fault, he says,
and your father’s.
What need was there to fly into that rage,
to go rushing to him with your petty complaints?
Anger doesn’t sit well in a woman.
All the kings of this land
have more than one wife.
It is the kshatriya way.
You know that as well as I.
He will find his way back to youth and women.
I know he will. He’s already making plans.
But tell me, sakhi, what’s a woman like me –
young and wanting her share of pleasure – to do?
There’s no moving on for me, no second chances.
Draw the curtains, quick, sakhi.
I can no longer bear the sight
of the amaltas blooming.