Cheran - Lines written to a sinhala Girl friend

LINES WRITTEN TO A SINHALA GIRL-FRIEND

It-won’t take long

for you and your friends
to recover from the surprise
at seeing me,
a common man
from a distant place where,
you came to believe from hearsay,
people plant bullets instead of rice
and is filled
with bungalows and ‘terrorists’.

As I sat with you
on the steps of a tank,
with lapping water
blanketed by threads of moonlight
which changes colour
with the murk of mud
and the shadows spread by floating clouds,
listening to your sinhala song,
my spirits rose.

Long ago
Then I was a little boy;
as we waited for
the train to Batticaloa
at Maho station
and walked with my father
along the track.

midnight;
the melody of a lullaby
came with the wind.
Heard between cries of a child
the intonation of the gentle voice
touched my heart.
I felt sad.

Now too,
a gentle sadness fills my heart.

The July wind
blows till bedtime.
Did our ignorance
of one another’s language
prevent us from enjoying
the sight of falling ‘ponnochil flowers
and the stumbling of the peacock
trying to retrace its steps?

Though you yearned
to have a feather
I could not pluck you
one off its plume.

Nor could I comply with your wish
to walk along with you
On the grassy paths in moonlight

Your eyes could not hide
the little disappointments.
Nor could I forget
your gentle love.

Letting the flowers to bloom

and the grass to grow untouched.,

You went south;
I went north.

On early mornings
when the cold wind blows
from the huge trees
atop the long mountain-range
as you take a little walk
brushing your teeth,
you will think-of the days
spent with me at the excavation site
trying to retrieve a lost city

Tell your people:
here too
flowers bloom,
grass sprouts,
birds fly ...

••••••••

-Cheran