Saturday, September 5, 2009

വര്‍ത്തമാനത്തിലെ പകലിരവുകള്‍..!!


ലിഖിതപത്രങ്ങളെന്നെ

അക്ഷരങ്ങളെ വെറുക്കാന്‍ പഠിപ്പിച്ചു.

ദൃശ്യമാധ്യമങ്ങളെന്റെ

കാഴ്ചയെ കവര്‍ന്നെടുത്തു

ലിഖിതദൃശ്യങ്ങളൊത്ത് ചേര്‍ന്നെന്റെ

പ്രശാന്തിയുടെ പകലുകളില്‍

കനലുകള്‍ നിറച്ചു,

കത്തിയാളും കനലുകളെന്റെ

നിശകളെ നിദ്രാവിഹീനങ്ങളാക്കി.


നിശായാമങ്ങളില്‍

ചോരമണമുള്ള പൂക്കള്‍ വിരിയുന്നു.

അതിര്‍വേലിപ്പടര്‍പ്പുകളില്‍

മരണസൂനങ്ങളുടെ

ശതമൂലങ്ങള്‍...!


സന്ത്രാസരാവുകളുടെ

അനിവാര്യമാം അടിയറവില്‍

‍ചോരവാര്‍ന്ന മക്കളുടെ

ഉറുമ്പ് തിന്നും ശവങ്ങള്‍!

തൊടിയില്‍ നിന്ന് തെരുവിലേക്കിട്ട

മൃതമൂഷിക ജന്മങ്ങള്‍!


കൊല്ലാന്‍ പതിനെട്ട് വഴികള്‍

‍ജ്ഞ്ഞാനപീഠമെന്തിന്ന്..?

വിറ്റഴിഞ്ഞ കോപ്പികള്‍

ലക്ഷോപലക്ഷം,ഒടുവില്‍

ഗിന്നസ് ബുക്കിലിടം.!


ഒരു കണ്ണ് തുറന്ന്

ഒരു കണ്ണടച്ചുറങ്ങുക,

ഒരു വാള്‍തല നിന്നിലേക്കത്

നിന്നില്‍ നിന്നു തന്നെയാവാം!!







4 comments:

  1. ഒരു കണ്ണ് തുറന്ന്


    ഒരു കണ്ണടച്ചുറങ്ങുക,


    ഒരു വാള്‍തല നിന്നിലേക്കത്


    നിന്നില്‍ നിന്നു തന്നെയാവാം!!
    കൊള്ളാം മാഷെ നന്നായിരിക്കുന്നു

    ReplyDelete
  2. നന്നായിരിക്കുന്നു മാഷെ ഈ കവിതയും

    ReplyDelete
  3. There is a poem which I don't like in this ''collections."
    Varthamanathile Pakaliravukal is a tabloid poem. In the west we have photo poems, a poem supported on the visuals. It is OK in that context. But the problem is when it comes to print in the book form without the support of visuals they are just barren , unproductive words.
    A poem is an artful verbal construct; a bit of word wizardry. A true poem should work based on the magic of its language, ring of the exact word. It should stand on its own. No Viagra.
    So in Varthamanathile pakaliravukal there is an un-bridged distance between the poet and the reader.. sort of, a couple of inspired statements, devoid of emotions.
    We cannot write linear poems all the time. We need figurative language. Also poems need strong and powerful metaphor.
    I believe Quraishi will acquire this extra tools in the process.
    We know poetic flashes are not poems. They are beejas. The poet meditates on the beeja for a strong poem to emerge. It is not a time-bound labour job.
    The problem with many of the blog poems is that they haste to release it without patience.
    Oru Pranaya Geetham or Yathramozhi is not created on a single sitting. Balachandran carried it with him for months. It gave him so many sleepless nights. And the poems are strong outpourings of his condensed emotions.
    He is just an ordinary man. not a professor. but see, how he stands out.
    If we believe WordsWorthian definition of poem as emotions recollected in tranquility I can say here is a poet. His name is Zainudheen Quraishi.Read him . Give him care.
    Thanks Azeez from Calgary
    Sept 7,09

    ReplyDelete
  4. Dear Zaindudhenn Quraishi
    Last week when I read one of your poems , in haste, I just flashed a comment: " How I come missed this poet."
    Today Monday is a Labour Day for us , a holiday. I got a chance to complete your poems.
    And these are my comments, my sincere comments.
    I love your poems. When any poet writes a few lines, I stop a moment, read it and make my Pranams. I believe poets are demi-angels, the connection link between our physicals and spirituals. They are emotional workers , if you want to call in the language of Marx.
    I love them.
    I love your poems .I wish you great success. I am sure if this boil is continued you will create wonderful poetic pieces, you will one day publish good collections of poems.
    Your poems are good to read .It is simple. It serves its purpose. It is not a rigourous workout in linguistics.
    You have a rhythm; you, always poetic, seems to be.
    Like many poems, your poems also carry me away, out side the normal time and space.
    Like other poets, you too break my watertight compartments.
    Some of your poems disturb me. You a disturber of my solitude.
    I just now read " vithukala" . The very theme tremors me.
    The lines are touchy.
    Vithukala is a symbolic of Humans. Or here in the West, machine parts.
    We are concerned with the productivity. We don't enjoy the pleasure of production, or the purpose.
    It is a tragedy of civilization. They give their best to take the best out of us.
    We don't know what we are meant for.
    പരശ്ശതമിണ ചേരലുകള്‍..!
    സംഭരണക്കുഴലിലേക്ക്


    തെറിച്ച് വീഴുന്ന


    സ്ഖലന നിര്‍വൃതികളില്‍


    ഒരു ചുംബനത്തിന്‍


    ദാഹമൊടുങ്ങാത്ത വ്യഥകള്‍..!
    പരമ്പര പടരുമ്പോഴും


    സ്വയമില്ലാതാവുന്ന


    വിത്തുകാള
    You write poetry of thoughtful substance. You are actively engaging big questions.
    There are poems of hard realities, but usually we shy away from it. But not you.
    Your poem " katal katannavar " is very deep .Deep as the sea. I feel a Marad effect in this poem. The life of the poor fishing community remains the same .
    They ask us:
    ഏതേതു മുജ്ജന്മ സുകൃതക്ഷയങ്ങളെ


    തൊട്ടുതൊട്ട് കണക്കുകള്‍ തിട്ടമില്ലാക്കളങ്ങളെ


    പലവുരു മായ്ച്ചുമെഴുതിയുമിനിയുമെത്ര


    കടലുകള്‍ താണ്ടണമരച്ചാണ്‍


    വയറിനെ പ്രണയിച്ച തെറ്റിനായ്......?!
    Dream is a dream . It is for everybody. But, some have dreams always shattered .
    This poem records the shattering of dreams .I just passed it .But the last lines hooked me.
    ഒരേയാകാശവുമൊരേ സൂര്യനുമൊരേ തിങ്കളും


    ഒരേ നക്ഷ്ത്രജാലവുമിരവും പകലുമൊരേ


    ഈറന്‍ മിഴികളാല്‍ കണ്ടന്യോന്യം കാണാതെ


    ചത്ത സ്വപ്നങ്ങള്‍ തന്‍ മരവിച്ച ജഡവുമായിരു


    ധ്രുവങ്ങളില്‍ കടലെടുക്കും ഹതജന്മങ്ങള്‍ നാം!!
    So, I read it again.
    "Shadows" is a sensitive poem. The structures and settings are so varied and interesting.
    Shadows is a beautiful poem. It gives a surrealist nightmare.
    "With the high sand dunes, and a hunchback
    With the agony and ecstasy of the bend
    Like that camel who made the sky as his roof…
    In a corner of snow falling land
    With the back that is humbled by worries and miserable
    Like an old camel that has nothing to chew…!!

    The roof that was opened for re-thatching
    Who slept counting the stars of the sky?
    The day I didn’t sleep waiting to see
    The snake carrying the pearl
    For the princess in the grandmother’s myth!!"
    But I fear there are some places in the poem more explained or pronounced than needed. I mean , a phenomenon of wordiness .
    This is not a book review. Just a reader's comment on some of the poems of Quraishi.
    There are many beautiful poems : maranam, puzha maveliyute onam ,paavam ,
    umma etc .All worth reading.

    ReplyDelete