The Sorrow of Women
I had written about Mamang Dai’s fiction here and here.
Here is a poem by Mamang, The Sorrow of Women, which I discovered in Muse India:
They are talking about hunger.
They are saying there is an unquenchable fire
burning in our hearts.
My love, what shall I do?
I am thinking how I may lose you
to war, and big issues
more important than me.Life is so hard, like this,
Nobody knows why.
It is like fire.
It is like rainwater, sand, glass.
What shall I do, my love,
If my reflection disappears?They are talking about a place
Where rice flows on the streets
About a place where there is gold
in the leaves of trees,
They are talking about displacement,
When the opium poppy was growing
dizzy in the sun
happy, in a state of believing –And they are talking about escape,
about liberty, men and guns,
Ah! The urgency for survival.
But what will they do
Not knowing the sorrow of women.
hi,
I am destined to be sad whenever I read the gems you post here. When you talk about sorrow, which I have been transfused from my mother, and it has played havoc in my min for years, and made me a bit more civilized than my ancestors, stripping me off my age old prejudices.
And I wonder now how much more sorrow do the women carry in their hearts, and remain alive and exist the way they do. If have even the half of it, I would die of its intensity instantly.
I know I can not express even the millionth part of what Mamang Dai means,but it has brushed me off and it stings me till day and I have no clue if it will ever subside.
I am lost now.
Comment by abhishek — April 9, 2007 @ 7:36 pm