Thursday, April 29, 2010

Sandhya Bhasha - Vegunta Mohan Prasad

Sri Vegunta, also called  'Mo' is a senior Telugu poet.
He treads the path of complexity in his poetry.
It fell on me to review his book 'Sandhya Bhasha' for Indin Literature.

The review is available in my site.
You can read it at
http://vijagopalk.tripod.com/id74.html

That is not the point here!

I was told that Mo is a fire brand personality and all the people tread carefully when it is him!
I could not help!
The review was published.

After some time later, I get a call from Pasupuleti Poornachandra Rao, a friend and  man of many shades!
Mo is coming to Hyderabad and would like to meet me!
I am told that after the review he was trying to get in touch with me.
Since I am a nobody, he could not make much headway!
He was, now, staying with Pasupuleti and they discovered that I could be met!

I went there for a lunch.
I was surprised by the love Mo showered on me.
He said, mine was the best of reviews about his works!
He also asked me to write more for an upcoming publication about him.
He was in the city to attend a programme of Pathabhi another genius film maker and poet!
I joined them and the meeting was very interesting.
Later I have not heard anything from Sri Vegunta.

Now, a couple of his poems for your reading pleasure.



Mo is a seasoned English language expert and teacher.
Trying to translate him will be a cruel joke!
There is nothing wrong in trying after all!!

The poem's title is very much like him!
the last two words mean the same!

Down up and above

A high song of nether worlds sorrows
Come up and slowly
Shining
Like a great last truth

On the lone stone upon the high mountain
Turning into a diamond like the smile of death
In the paths of cracked feet
morning Sun getting stuck

Would at least one drop spill
From the last cold dance of the moon
With stretched hands for millenia
We keep seeing shivering in cold
***



Dog

Dont just knock on the door like that
There are none who would shudder
Aye
Mad fellow disembark from the train however
Would hand the ticket and get into a rickshaw
After all
Who gave the idea to you
That there would be grain in meditation
Along you
A cobweb pant and for you great self
A dsire for salvation
Just now
I'll leave for the village how many of them
Every moment stepping up and down teh entrances you mad
***

Can you enjoy? If yes, great!!
((((((((

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