Friday, June 6, 2014


tr. from Kadambari Mishra's 'बदायूं'

No one knows the name of my little town.
Somewhere on the banks of Ganga, it was settled,
lying there for centuries.
Many times I've thought, that apart from its history,
I should be able to tell people something,
anything, but my town does not give me
a chance.

Yesterday, all who heard the girl, stood around her,
their foreheads furrowed, their faces yellowed,
she was telling them about her town,
hesitating to go back there -

- there, two innocent ones had been hung on a tree
by those predators. Now everyone knew the name of Badayun.

Kadambari Mishra

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