ON THE SANDS OF CAVELOSSIM BEACH

 ON THE SANDS OF CAVELOSSIM BEACH 

 

And, here we are 

And now that we are here

Let’s sit for a while

Rest our limbs and mind

And later 

We’ll see what we can do here

There’s lots we can do

But

Let’s sit for a while

Or

Let’s sit for a bit longer 

It’s been a long time

Since

We sat together 

 

We have journeyed on 

Land water and air 

We have seen all the forts

Gardens temples churches 

Palaces museums and statues

We have hurried from one 

To another in a mad rush

Heads hazy 

Eyes ablur 

 

We are here now

Let’s sit for a while

Rest our limbs and mind

Let’s sit for a while longer 

Wait for the sun to set

The sky to turn dark-blue

The waves to sparkle 

The ship-lights to come alive 

 

SJR

 

 

THE PENGUIN BOOK OF POEMS ON THE INDIAN CITY ... My translations of K V Tirumalesh's Hyderabad Poems in this anthology ...

This monumental anthology, THE PENGUIN BOOK OF POEMS ON THE INDIAN CITY, edited by Bilal Moin, arrived at my door some days ago ... and I was elated ... to say the least ...

 

On 13th August last year, I received a mail that surprised me. It was a mail from Mr Bilal Moin. He introduced himself and told me that he is editing an anthology of poems on the Indian city to be published by Penguin Random House. He told me that he found my English translations of one of Kannada’s foremost modernist poets, K. V. Tirumalesh’s Hyderabad Poems on my blog and enjoyed reading them. He then sought my permission to reprint two of my translations in this anthology. 

 

For some odd reason I got hooked to Tirumalesh Sir’s Hyderabad poems that I found in his collections Mukhamukhi (1978) and Avadha (1986) and proceeded to translate them into English. This started around eight years ago. I took this up as my personal project. After mining these two collections, I started searching his other collections and found that there are a number of Hyderabad ‘fragments’ in his two epic style narratives – Akshaya Kavya (2010) and Avyaya Kavya (2019). I translated all of them, and enjoyed doing it. Tirumalesh Sir became a Hyderabadi long time ago, and I became one subsequently. I enjoyed revisiting a lot of spaces that he alludes to in his poems. 

 

And then, I created a blog and posted my translations online. I tried to create some ‘publicity’ too. My Hyderabad-Kannadiga friends, Nikhila and Tharakeshwar Tharakeshwar Vb, helped me in disseminating these translations. It was at an annual literary-cultural event in December 2018 that Nikhila had organized in memory of her father that I did a reading of some of these poems for the first time. Then, Tharakeshwar got twelve of these translations published in ‘Caesurae’ and ‘Maidaanam.’ ‘Muse India’ published three more translations. Then last year, one poem found its way into an English textbook of Kuvempu University, through the good offices of another friend, Prof Siraj Ahmed.

 

And then, out of the blue, I get Bilal Moin’s mail, and I was so happy. These poem-translations have been in the public domain for so many years now, and to have them discovered like this gave me a lot of satisfaction. I don’t know how Tirumalesh Sir would have felt about all this. He was a forthright person, and probably would have shrugged his shoulders and smiled. That’s what I would like to fondly believe. I received a lot of support from Tirumalesh Sir’s family and their permission to translate and publish his poems. 

Two Hyderabad poems by Tirumalesh, ‘On the Arts College Road’ (Arts Collegina Haadiyalli ಅರ್ಟ್ಸ್ ಕಾಲೇಜಿನಹಾದಿಯಲ್ಲಿ) from ‘Mukhamukhi’ and ‘Pesticide Sabi,’ (Keetanashaka Sabi ಕೀಟನಾಶಕ ಸಾಬಿ) a Hyderabad fragment from ‘Avyaya Kavya,’ are included in this collection. 

 

And, significantly, ‘Pesticide Sabi’ also features in the ‘introduction’ and the editor notes the use of the word ‘Sabi’ reflecting the rich complexities of the Kannada language and the translator having to navigate these layers of meanings to create the same cultural weight and depth in English as in the original. 

 

I would like to wholeheartedly thank Mr Bilal Moin for discovering these poems and for reaching out to me. I know him only through the mails we exchanged, and he came across as a warm and earnest person. This anthology is a massive door-stopper of a book counting a stupendous 1072 pages and containing 375 poems. This anthology contains a whole range of voices, from the classical to the contemporary, and it is certain to give its readers hours of enchantment as the poems take them through the thoroughfares and lanes and bylanes and sights and sounds and smells of the Indian city ... and thoughts and feelings ... 

 

Take a bow, Bilal Moin ... on undertaking this epic task and bringing out a beautiful work of art 😀👌🌺 ... 

Chandan Gowda's "Another India: Events, Memories, People"

11 June 2025

This book, Chandan Gowda's 'Another India: Events, Memories, People,' has been living in the ‘cart’ for so many days and four days ago, I pushed the button, and it came home yesterday. I started reading straightaway and by evening I had read more than half of the essays.

The first essay, ‘A People without a Stereotype,’ caught my attention immediately. As a nomad, having lived in 6 different states and being married to a person having stakes in Bihar and Bengal, this question had always tickled me. The term ‘Kannadiga’ was met with some kind of incomprehension most of the times. I used to feel ‘Kannadigas’ always flew under the radar. My father was posted in Sultanpur, UP, when P V Narasimha Rao became the PM. His UP-based colleagues came to congratulate him, ‘Raosaab, aapka aadmi PM ban gaya’ ... when my father explained to them that the PM is a Telugu and that he is a Kannadiga and that there is a difference, it didn’t make any difference. Aap sab log Madrasi hain na ...

As Chandan says, we never travelled and settled elsewhere in large numbers to create this stereotype. Tulu speakers from Dakshina Kannada have settled in large numbers in Mumbai, Pune and other cities. They are called ‘Anna’-s there. But Kannadigas don’t have a pan-Indian referent like Mallu, Bong, Thambi, Golti, Gujju, Bhaiyya, and so on. I remember a discussion some of us had in the CIEFL hostel dining hall a long time ago, “hey, what are you people called? We are called ‘Mallus’ ... she is a ‘Bong’” ... “I don’t know ... nobody notices us I think ... you should find us a name,” I said. We tried different names and the one which came close to acceptance was ‘Kannus.’ But that didn’t take off and the discussion remained there. Chandan’s essay made me think about this topic again. 

For a nomadic Kannadiga like me, this book is a treasure trove of stories, ideas and information. The essays filled a number of gaps in my understanding of Kannada culture, literature, local myths, urban myths, politics, popular culture, etc. Chandan Gowda has employed an engaging style, interlaced with wit and humour, and at the same time one can perceive a solid intellect working behind the scenes to make it all happen.

THE SUNDAY SECONDHAND BOOKS BAZAAR AT ABID’S ... YESTERDAY ONCE MORE ...

Yesterday’s visit came about for one main reason.  I had to deliver a bottle of mango pickles to Vinod, my friend.  Every summer Shruti makes this sweet pickle out of raw ‘elephant’ mangoes, red chillies, and vinegar (and sugar), and some summers ago, just on a hunch Shruti kept aside a small bottle of this pickle for Vinod.  I gave it to him on one of our Sunday meetings and he liked it immensely.  Since then, Shruti makes a small batch for him every summer, more or less.  So, that was my mission of the day.  I reached Abid’s before Vinod yesterday.  Unlike the last time, this Sunday all the booksellers seemed to be in attendance.  More stalls, more books.  

But it was too hot.  I had my hat on and went browsing.  I have learnt to go with an open mind to Abid’s, and allow myself to be surprised.  Not many surprises yesterday, but there was this huge pile of books with a whole lot of very interesting and good books.  Lots of old Pan Books titles, and some Tom Sharpe titles, very tempting!  

Five years ago, I would have bought at least 10 books from this pile.  I am older and wiser now, and more importantly, I am being hemmed in by books from all sides in my room.  Nevertheless, I picked up two books from this pile – John Fowles’ ‘The Ebony Tower’ and D. H. Lawrence’s ‘Love among the Haystacks and other Stories.’  The Ebony Tower is a collection of novellas and the other one is a collection of stories.  Even if I read two novellas and two stories from each, my trip would be worth it, I thought.  

 

Around then, Vinod texted saying that he has reached.  I went around for some more time, and started walking back to our starting point, The Star of India Café.  I peeked in, he was not there in his usual seat.  So, I browsed around among the stalls near the Café.  I was delighted to find a whole lot of Tintin and Asterix comics.  

 

I am absolutely crazy about Asterix comics and find them so delightful.  I understand that the world is divided into Tintin lovers and Asterix lovers.  I like both, but will always buy an Asterix if a choice is given.  I had read or have most of the Tintins that were displayed, but I was not sure about the Asterixes.  I do have a substantial collection of Asterixes, but was a bit confused.  There was one title that I was sure I hadn’t read.  It was a hardback edition ... ‘Asterix and the Actress.’  I succumbed.     

 

Vinod had arrived at the Café by that time and we went in for our tryst with des-Tea-ny.  I gave the pickles bottle first, and the over samosas and osmanias and invigorating Irani chai, we chatted for a long time about books, and mostly about the state of the nation and the ongoing elections.  He had brought two books for me ... Charles Portis’ True Grit and Olga Tokarczuk’s Flights.  I hadn’t read either and they were welcome gifts.  Thank you, Vinod Bhai!  

I had made the rounds, bought three books, got two more as gifts, had a nice chat, had chai and snacks,  and I was ready to return home.  Vinod hadn’t gone around the stalls yet and so he set off on his book-hunt.