Poem without Grammar
Original Poem By: Partha Sarathi Mahanta
Translated By: Jyotirmoy Pradhani
It’s been quite a while I stopped writing poems
No reason, can’t even give an excuse
Yet, I ceased to write poems.
Never realized, not even noticed
That my poems turned quiet
Now, as I look back,
I realise how crucial
Those poems were for me-
They were the eloquent disclosures
Of my feels and emotions,
Free flowing reflections
Of my intense thoughts,
Fluent articulations of my imaginations,
Reasons and ruminations
That occupied the cusp
Of my adolescence and adulthood.
They were the shelters
Of my youth’s innocent fervours.
The poems were cluster of my minute thoughts,
Of the absurd, provisional
And the nebulous sagacity
Of my dischanted life.
They were imperative for me
To settle without reason
The irrationalities of attainments.
They were the endevours to reveal the lore
Of my nascent wisdoms.
The poems were so urgent for me,
They instilled life into my choked moments.
The poems were a necessity for me,
They enlivened my incorporeal being.
The poems were a need for me,
They renewed my sapping self with vigour,
My poems were without grammar
No idioms, no pattern, style or a philosophy
Yet, for me they were
My exuberant means to churn meanings.
In terms of age, life has matured
In terms of time, it has been a sheaf of experiences.
Longings were all concealed
Taking reality as a subterfuge.
Despite the scratches of age and wrinkles of time
My poems refused to settle for a creed.
Myriads of places, myriads of faces
And the rainbow of emotions
Yet the same cravings for poetry,
Poetry without grammar.