Endless Tragedy Poem by Madathil Rajendran Nair
Endless Tragedy
There was a grand-father tamarind tree
In front of my ancestral home
Pointing a bare finger into the sky
In the grey of monsoon drizzle
Early in the morning
A brooding crow which had a hole in one of its wings
Used to perch on it
That was my pre-teen childhood
When I had two aunts
With two cows – one white and the other grey
Whose calves were my constant companions
As I wandered in surrounding woods
Watching birds laboring at their nests
We had kerosene lamps then
Under which I used to mug up lessons
When I looked askance at the sky
The orange Arcturus
Winked at me from Bootes
Leaves giggled in the wind
My dad took his pompous strolls
In the sprawling courtyard
Watching if I misbehaved
As mom garnished
Chutney for breakfast
Spreading dosas on the pan
Those were beautiful days
Which I took for granted
Would ever remain
Unchanged through to endless time
But, alas, as time sped
As I witnessed my body change
Through teenage to adulthood
Each of the things I loved
Vanished one after another
Mom and dad were washed away
In the tides of time
So were the aunts
Someone axed the tamarind tree
The crow made homeless perished
The cows and calves too disappeared
Into the hungry bowels of abattoirs
The house was sold
New ones displaced the woods
As I fled to distant lands
A wandering nestless bird
Ever on restless wings
Aging all the time
Into an insipid mass
Of failing musculature
Through pain and fatigue
Into the grey and wrinkles
Of a geriatric mess
When the wick of knowing fades
In slumber’s chamber every night
The mess does wonder
What is it that has remained
Unchanged watching the river of time
Displace the known with unknown things
Wash a body into bones and skin
Yet, the mess languishes in mess
Never ever able to accept
That it really is the witness
The changeless awareness
That remains ever untouched
Lo, my tragedy is thus abetted
As Valsa George said this is a beautiful poem, I wish my children could have such life away from the city. Nice one.
The mess languishes in mess! ! When we fail to uphold the duties of life, Nice work,
This is perhaps the best poem I have ever read, Madathil. The details, the imagery, the wording and intelligent observation, combined with the emotion and awareness make this a stunning piece! Thank you for sharing this with all of us. Peace
Time metamorphoses childhood into youth and then slowly into old age. In this ongoing cycle what we treasure are our memories. A beautiful poem on the childhood memories. If it was within me, I would surely have recommended your name for the Nobel prize for the sheer quality of the poems I am reviewing today.
Absolute beauty. You bring into memory the childhood days when we used to live in a large house with so many aunts, brothers, sisters and uncles as a big joint family.Relatives were streaming in and out endlessly and there used to be an air of fair in the house.Missed that time terribly.Thanks for sharing.
You made me see my country; My home; my family, everything even up to the cows and trees. Going down memory lane is bitter-sweet. Such simplicity! such meaning! thank you for bringing my home once again to my heart. Watching if I misbehaved As mom garnished
I recollect my childhood days and it wet my eyes as a refugee who lost our land in one evening and flee on wheels to anchor in neighboring village. thank you for sharing such a nostalgic penning
A wandering nestless bird Ever on restless wings Beautiful lines. That is how the life continues. Beautiful in words insipid in reality.Unfading memories will continue to provide the cool shade of the tamarind tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 3:30:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
What a nostalgic journey into childhood! I can relate to every line of this poem. The idyllic village life was so enchanting with its artless simplicity. How we miss our parents who had been the embodiment of sacrifice and love! All those are gone and now every day we timidly watch the advancing of old age! I always wonder if our children will be able to look back to their childhood with the same nostalgia as we the people of our generation do! In fact the kids of the present times do not have half our excitement and beauty now, though they are surrounded by sophisticated toys! Enjoyed this beautiful poem! A 10