Kavita Torzonn


-B. B. Borkar (1910-1984)

It was on that day
That your anklet bells
With their soft, lingering jingle
Came to me from the gathering darkness
Under the banyan tree.

All the woods fell silent,
The leaves quivered and stood still.
Over the blades of grass
In their drowsiness
There came a tender wakefulness.

Temple bells rang from afar.
The river's gurgle became subdued.
The thickening darkness then
Filled the air with fragrance.
Over us blossomed festive fireworks,
Each pore was set aflame.
Portents and omens all unusual
Started appearing auspicious.

The bliss of happiness surging to the throat,
The pain of sorrow flowing from the eye
Turned into gems and started sparkling.
It was then, you know,
That all unawares we two grew into one.

As we stood there together
Exposed to the shower
Of banyan berries raining over us,
We felt transported
To the charming world of the far-off moon
And to the blissful fields of Elysium.

Of all that, nothing remains today.
My life itself is drawing to its close.
Yet even now, all of sudden,
I keep on hearing your anklet bells.

Even now I feel the flush of love
And a sweet shudder passes through me.
Even now my very dream
Becomes my wide awakening.

(Translated from Konkani by S. S. Kulkarni)