Every time I picked up the paintbrush
To draw a portrait of myself,
Instead of my own face, each time
I saw someone else entirely.
Not one, not two,
But seven complete portraits.
Failing to find myself in any of them,
I finally gave up the attempt.
In the tick-tock sound of the wall clock,
I measured the pulse of the night.
In every warm sip of my tea,
I heard the snoring of a sleepy night.
In the distant, agonizing wail of an unknown bird,
I heard the scream of a helpless, innocent woman.
In the howling of the jackals,
I heard the mocking laughter of an incompetent ruler.
In the furious barking of the street dogs,
After a criminal had comfortably escaped,
I heard the angry slogans of the public demanding justice and arrests.
This time, at the sharp blast of the night watchman’s whistle,
The entire night fell dead silent.
A voice seemed to echo: “Whoever you are, wherever you are,
Stay exactly as you are.
Do not protest, do not raise any counter-questions.
The ‘good days’ (Achhe Din) are arriving ahead.
If you can endure everything in absolute silence and survive,
You shall witness the grand cosmic form of the Vishwaguru (World Leader).
You may choose not to be a devotee of God,
But you must certainly become a blind follower (Andhabhakta);
Otherwise, pack your bags and leave this country!”
Finally, with the combined morning chorus
Of the vegetable-vendor and the fishmonger,
My sleep was broken.
On the street outside, someone was saying aloud:
“Who on earth eats fish during the holy month of Kartika ho…!
O vegetable-vendor, give me some greens!
In this era of skyrocketing inflation,
It is far better to turn into a fasting ascetic (Habisyali).”
— Ratnamaya Tripathy
Adhyayana, Balangir
Original Odia : Ratnamaya Tripathy
Translated by : Dr. Khyatimaya Tripathy
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