from Magadh

Shrikant Verma

The People of Magadh

The people of Magadh
are sorting the bones of the dead

Which ones are Ashoka's?
And Chandragupta's?
No, no,
these can't be Bimbisara's
they are Ajatashatru's,

the people of Magadh say
shedding tears

It's natural

those who have seen a man alive
only they
can see him dead
those who haven't seen him alive
how can they see him dead?

Just yesterday
the people of Magadh
saw Ashoka
going to Kalinga
returning from Kalinga
Chandragupta riding his horse to Takshashila
Bimbisara
in tears
Ajatashatru
flexing his muscles

The people of Magadh
had seen
and they
can't forget
that they had seen
those who

can no longer
be found




Ujjaini

The courtesan whom
Kalidas loved
filled
Ujjaini
like musk
An auspicious
concurrence
Ujjaini
Kalidas
musk

sometimes
the stars
are so aligned

Now who
comes looking
asking
Mahakaal himself –
Is this her city,
she
who was
everywhere
like musk

The courtesan
whom Kalidas
loved
has she
passed by
this road

Wait, stop,
whose
corpse
is this
floating
by
on
the Kshipra





Shravasti


Those who've left Shravasti
come back –

Mendicants still pass by
repeating
Those who've left
fearing sorrow
will find sorrow

Those who come
find sorrow
Those who go
find sorrow

In Kosal there's as much sorrow
as there is
in Shravasti

Those who've left Shravasti for Kosal
come back –
Shravasti wants to say this
but can't




Disillusionment of a Courtesan from the Time of the Buddha

With each caress
the breasts quiver

From the navel a fragrance rises

Astride
these thighs
only the mighty
can ride their
horse into the river

In search of unending pleasure come
the general,
the prince.

Women swoon.

Malati,
it won't be the same tomorrow
The breasts
will be filled
with pus,
the thighs
will lie shattered
like monuments

You'll only be able
to hear footsteps –
whose?
The general's?
Or the prince's?

The river of pleasure
will have run dry

They'll joke
those who rode their
horse –
you too will laugh.

Fetching a corpse from the river
people leave it
at the ghats
and say –
Here lies Time

No one sees Malati.

With each caress
the breasts
quivered.

Only the mighty
straddled
these thighs.
In search of
unending pleasure
came the prince.

Women swooned.

The irony
Malati,
you've always been
Malati.

translated from the Hindi by Rahul Soni