We ridicule daydreams
but do even night dreams come true?
For our folks who go to Bombay,
to change life
to learn life,
I have been writing letters since I learnt letters
but I have never been able to write
them in line with my dreams.
The preaching of caution
to the son, who squandered wages,
getting on the bus,
the sorrow of mothers
weeping behind kongus*,
the travails of hunger
and the persistence of debts,
sisters' questions-
'did the rakhi reach my brother?',
the appeals of brothers
to send small chappals
through someone returning
and many more
became the letters I wrote.
They stil do.
Changing life
is not as simple as inviting colours into your sleep during the night
and dreaming–
whether you dream intentionally or otherwise,
do dreams ever come true?
More than dreaming,
I comfort myself
that at least the writing I am capable of
is performing the role of an emissary
through letters.
My translation of Taidala Anjaiah's Telugu poem 'rAtri kalalu' (from his collection of poetry 'punaasa').
* kongu: the free end of the sari, the pallu.
Tags: Taidala Anjaiah