Emendation… Gurajada Appa Rao, Telugu, Indian

“Tak!…Tak!!…Tak!!!”, Gopalarao tapped the door gently with his knuckles. There was no response. The door wasn’t opened . he waited for a while.

The clock struck one.

“My god! I am late again. Too late! I have been a fool!  I must be careful from tomorrow. Far from being an anti-nauch, I have slid down  to watching this nauch girl with interest!  Why should I wait like a lecher till the end of the show? Why that eagerness to talk to her on some pretext? I do hereby resolve — from tomorrow, I shall not visit the place again. Certainly not!  Tapping the door more vigorously would wake up Kamalini if I can wake up this fellow Ramu up and sneak into the bedroom, I can pass off for a gentleman!

Gopalarao tried the door. To his surprise, he found the door was ajar, not bolted from inside. He opened it fully. There was no light in the doorway.  He walked upto the bedroom.  There was no light there as well.  He tiptoed to the bed to see if Kamalini was awake.  He couldn’t make out.  He drew out the match box from his pocket and lighted a match. Kamalini was not on the bed. Astonished, he dropped the matchstick.  Darkness pervaded his heart as it did the room.  Strange apprehensions and equally strange fears swelled up and disturbed and annoyed him.  He was not sure if his annoyance was with himself  for his misdeeds or with Kamalini for her absence. He felt greatly irritated.

He came to the foreyard and called out his servants. Nobody answered his call. “these fellows must be hanged,” he said to himself in despair. Returning to his room, he lighted a lamp and started searching for her.  He found his old servant  Ramu in the middle of the road blissfully smoking and watching the stars!

“Ramu!”, he roared, “come here once!”

Startled and scared, Ramu threw away the cigar and ran to his master.

“Yes, Sir!”

“Where is she?”

“Who? My wife, Sir? She is at home.”

“You fool! Where is my wife?”

“Oh! You mean Madam, Sir! She must be sleeping in the bedroom Sir!”

“No. She is not.”

Ramu looked surprised. Slowly fear seized him.  The moment he stepped into the house, Gopalarao gave two heavy blows on his back in a fit of anger. Ramu dropped down to the floor with a thud  moaning, “You have killed me, Sir!”

Gopalarao was a gentleman.  He immediately realized his mistake of venting his anger on the servant and regretted it. Soothing Ramu’s back with his palm, he lifted him up and took him to his room.  Sitting in a chair and with agony clearly perceptible in his voice, he asked,  “Ramu! What happened?”

“It looks a mystery to me Sir!”

“Has she gone to her father’s place?”

“She could have. If you don’t take me amiss, Sir, what else do you expect when a woman gets educated?”

“You stupid! You do not know the value of education.”

Gopalarao leaned over the table and holding his head between his hands started brooding.  Suddenly he saw a note on the table in Kamalini’s hand.  Involuntarily he took into his hands and started reading:


“What a pity! She is addressing me like a stranger.  The warm addressing ‘dear’ disappeared and changed to an alien salutation , Sir!” moaned Gopala Rao aloud.

“What Sir! Where is the deer Sir! Where did it disappear Sir!” Ramu asked innocently.

“You idiot! Shut up!”

Gopalarao continued reading the note.

“It’s ten days since I have been seeing you coming home only at night.  You have been telling me  that you were busy with social work and attending meetings on that score. But, I came to know  the truth from my friends. I understand you have had to lie because of my presence at home. I can spare you that trouble if I go to my father’s place.  You can be as free as you wish to be.  What else a wife could do under these circumstances than to keep herself away from the husband? I am going tonight. Be happy. If you can spare any money after meeting your expenses, please send me.”

Folding the note, Gopalarao shouted aloud:

“I am an ass!”

“Master! Why do you say so?”

“I am a real big ass!” he repeated taking no notice of  Ramu.

Ramu had been finding it very difficult to suppress his laughter.

“A woman of great character, a bundle of virtues, obedient and educated… she taught me a befitting lesson.”

“What did she do Sir!”

“She has gone to her father’s place. But, how could she go without your knowledge?”

Ramu stepped back a little and said, “I must have been sleeping then. If you don’t mistake me, Sir, a woman should be shown her proper place by giving a thorough dressing down. Then she would stay put at home and never think of going to  her father’s place without permission! Strange things happen when women get educated and start writing as men do.”

“Bloody fool you are! The most valuable thing in God’s creation is an educated woman. Even our Lord Siva gave his consort Parvati half of himself. An Englishman calls his wife better half. Do you know what it means?  It means that woman is superior to him. Understand?”

“I don’t understand anything, Sir!”  Ramu said suppressing his laughter with great difficulty.

“Your daughter is attending the school just now. You’ll realize the value of education soon. Forget about it! One of us should immediately go to Chadravaram to bring her back. For the next four days I can’t move out of town. You’re our trusted family servant. Go and bring her. What will you tell her?”

“I know, Sir! I’ll say: Madam! Master broke my back. Please come home!”

“Useless fellow! Don’t you ever speak about the beating. I’ll give you two rupees for forgetting it.”

“Yes, Sir!”

“I’ll tell you what to say. Here me carefully.  Say ‘Master has realized his mistake and will never visit nauch girls again. He’ll not move out of house at night. It’s a promise!’ understand!?  Also say ‘he begs you to return home in a day or two without divulging anything to anyone there. He’s feeling your absence and counting days.’ Tell these words with finesse. Followed?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Repeat to me what I asked you to say?”

Ramu scratched his head. “I’ll say…I’ll say… I forgot all that you have said, Sir! But I’ll say this: ‘Hear Madam! I’ve seen so many couples. A woman should always obey her husband and keep quiet. If you don’t, my Master will also  maintain a nauch girl like his father. For your information, recently a very beautiful young girl has landed in our town and our Master is losing sleep over her already. It’s up to you now!”

“You rascal!” Gopalarao leaped from the bed. Ramu shot out like an arrow.

A serenading laughter and jingle of bangles were heard from under the bedstead.


[From : The Palette (1997) by RS Krishna Moorthy & NS Murty]

Gurajada Appa Rao

(21 September 1862 – 30 November 1915)

Telugu playwright, dramatist, poet, and writer

పాత చెప్పులు … రోబెర్తో ఫర్రోజ్, అర్జెంటీనా కవి

నేనిపుడు పాత చెప్పులు మాత్రమే తొడుక్కోగలను.

నేను నడిచే త్రోవ

తొలి అడుగునుండే చెప్పుల్ని అరగదీస్తుంది.

పాత చెప్పులైతే

నా త్రోవని అసహ్యించుకోవు.

అవి మాత్రమే నా రోడ్డు ఎక్కడికి వెళితే

అక్కడికి వెళ్ళగలవు.

ఆ తర్వాత

నువ్వు ఉట్టికాళ్లతో నడవ వలసిందే.

రోబెర్తో ఫర్రోజ్

అర్జెంటీనా కవి




Poem 3


Now I can only wear old shoes.

The road I follow

wears shoes out from the first step.



For complete poem  visit the link below

Roberto Juarroz


Argentine Poet

Image and Poem Courtesy:


కవి… ఖలీల్ జీబ్రాన్, లెబనీస్ – అమెరికన్ కవి

అతను ఈ ఇహపరాలకి వారధి.


దప్పిగొన్న ప్రతి ఆత్మా సేవించగల స్వచ్ఛమైన నీటిబుగ్గ.


ఆకొన్న హృదయాలు అభిలషించే ఫలాలనందించే,

సౌందర్యనదీజలాల తడిసిన పండ్లచెట్టు ;

తన గానామృతంతో

ఆర్తహృదయాలను అనునయించగల కోయిల;

దిగంతాలలో మెరిసి, వ్యాపిస్తూ,

పూర్ణాకాశాన్ని ఆవరించగల తెలివెండి మొయిలు;

జీవన కేదారాలలో కురిసి ప్రవహించి,

వెలుగు వెల్లువను స్వీకరించగల

పద్మదళాలను వికసింపజేయగల నిపుణుడు;

భగవంతుని దివ్యవాణిని వినిపించడానికి

భగవతి ఎంపికచేసిన దేవదూత;

ప్రేమైకమూర్తి తనుగా చమురుపోసి,

స్వరసరస్వతి వెలిగించిన,

పెనుగాలులార్పలేని, చీకటులు కబళించలేని

దివ్య దీధితులు విరజిమ్ము దీపకళిక;



వాత్సల్య, నిరాడంబరతలు మూర్తీభవించిన ఏకైక మూర్తి;

స్ఫూర్తి కొరకు ప్రకృతి ఒడిలో కూర్చుని,

నిశానిబద్ధ ప్రశాంతతలో ఆత్మ సంలీననానికి ఎదురుచూచే నిశా తపస్వి;

అనురాగ క్షేత్రాల్లో తన హ్రదయ బీజాల్ని నాటే కృషీవలుడు.

మానవాళి తన పుష్టికి ఆ పంటను కోసుకుంటుంది.


ఈ కవి…

తన జీవితాంతమూ జనులచే ఉపేక్షించబడి,

భువికి వీడ్కోలు పలికి, నందనోద్యానపు పొదరిండ్లలో

నిజావాసానికి చేరిన పిమ్మటే గుర్తింపుకి నోచుకుంటాడు;

ఈ కవి…

ప్రజలనుండి ఒక్క చిరునవ్వు తప్ప వేరు ఆశించడు;

ఈ కవి…

స్వర్గారోహణ చేస్తూ, గగనతలాన్ని తన సూక్తులతో నింపుతాడు.

అయినా అతని రోచిస్సులను ప్రజలనుభవించలేరు.

ఎంతకాలమని మనుషులు  నిద్రలో ఉండగలరు?

సమయానుకూలతవల్ల గొప్పదనాన్ని పొందినవారిని

ఎంతకాలమని కీర్తిస్తూ గడపగలరు?

తమ ఆత్మసౌందర్యాన్ని తమకి ఎత్తిచూపి,

శాంతికీ, ప్రేమకీ ప్రతీకలుగా నిల్చిన వారిని

ప్రజలెంతకాలం ఉపేక్షిస్తూ ఉండగలరు?

చుట్టుముట్టిన కష్టాలలో జీవితాలు గడుపుతూనే

అవివేకుల మార్గాలను వెలిగించి

వారిని జ్ఞానమార్గంవైపు మళ్ళించడానికి

కొవ్వొత్తుల్లా కాలే సమకాలీకులను విస్మరించి

ఎంతకాలమని మృతులనే గౌరవిస్తూ పోగలరు?


ఓ కవీ! ఈ జీవితానికి జీవానివి నువ్వు.

కర్కశమైన కాలాన్నికూడ జయించినవాడవు నువ్వు

ఓ కవీ! ప్రజల హృదయాలను నువ్వు చూరగొనే రోజు వస్తుంది

కనుక, నీ పరిపాలనకి భరతవాక్యం ఉండదు.

ఓ కవీ! ఒకసారి నీ ముళ్ళకిరీటాన్ని పరిశీలించిచూడు,

అందులో దాగుని, మొగ్గతొడుగుతున్న కీర్తిలతని గమనించగలవు.


 ఖలీల్ జీబ్రాన్

(January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)

లెబనీస్ – అమెరికన్ కవి


Khalil Gibran (April 1913)
Khalil Gibran
Photo Courtesy: Wikipedia


The Poet


He is a link between this and the coming world.

He is

A pure spring from which all thirsty souls may drink.


He is a tree watered by the River of Beauty, bearing

Fruit which the hungry heart craves;

He is a nightingale, soothing the depressed

Spirit with his beautiful melodies;

He is a white cloud appearing over the horizon,

Ascending and growing until it fills the face of the sky.

Then it falls on the flows in the field of Life,

Opening their petals to admit the light.

He is an angel, send by the goddess to

Preach the Deity’s gospel;

He is a brilliant lamp, unconquered by darkness

And inextinguishable by the wind. It is filled with

Oil by Istar of Love, and lighted by Apollon of Music.


He is a solitary figure, robed in simplicity and

Kindness; He sits upon the lap of Nature to draw his

Inspiration, and stays up in the silence of the night,

Awaiting the descending of the spirit.

He is a sower who sows the seeds of his heart in the

Prairies of affection, and humanity reaps the

Harvest for her nourishment.

This is the poet—whom the people ignore in this life,

And who is recognized only when he bids the earthly

World farewell and returns to his arbor in heaven.

This is the poet—who asks naught of

Humanity but a smile.

This is the poet—whose spirit ascends and

Fills the firmament with beautiful sayings;

Yet the people deny themselves his radiance.

Until when shall the people remain asleep?

Until when shall they continue to glorify those

Who attain greatness by moments of advantage?

How long shall they ignore those who enable

Them to see the beauty of their spirit,

Symbol of peace and love?

Until when shall human beings honor the dead

And forget the living, who spend their lives

Encircled in misery, and who consume themselves

Like burning candles to illuminate the way

For the ignorant and lead them into the path of light?

Poet, you are the life of this life, and you have

Triumphed over the ages of despite their severity.

Poet, you will one day rule the hearts, and

Therefore, your kingdom has no ending.

Poet, examine your crown of thorns; you will

Find concealed in it a budding wreath of laurel.


Khalil Gibran

(January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)

Lebanese-American Artist, Poet, and Writer

Poem Courtesy: http://4umi.com/gibran/smile/8

మౌన ప్రేమికుడు … సర్ వాల్టర్ రాలీ (1552–1618)


ఓ నా హృదయ రాణీ! 

నీ ప్రేమను అర్థించపోయినంత మాత్రంచేత

గాయపడలేదనుకుని అచ్చమైన ప్రేమలోని మౌనాన్ని

తప్పుగా అర్థంచేసుకోకు….


ప్రేమలో మౌనం, 

మాటలు చెప్పగలిగినదానికంటే ఎక్కువ బాధని వ్యక్తపరుస్తుంది.

నీకు తెలుసుకదా, ముష్టివాడు మూగవాడుకూడ అయితే

వాడిమీద మరింత జాలి చూపించాలని.


నా మనోహరీ! నా నిజమైన ప్రేమని, చెప్పలేకున్నా,

తప్పుగా అర్థం చేసుకోకు;

ఎవడు తనగాయాన్ని దాచుకుని, కనికరంకోసం ప్రాకులాడడో,

వాడే ఎక్కువ బాధ అనుభవిస్తాడు.


సర్ వాల్టర్ రాలీ


ఎలిజబెత్ మహారాణి ఈ హయాం లో ఒక వెలుగు వెలిగిన వ్యక్తి సర్ వాల్టర్ రాలీ. ఆమెకి ప్రీతిపాత్రుడుగా, యుధ్ధతంత్ర నిపుణుడిగా, నావికుడిగా, అన్వేషకుడిగా, గూఢచారిగా, కవిగా అనేక పాత్రలు నిర్వహించి ఆమెవల్ల అనేకలాభాలు పొందిన వ్యక్తి. Eldorado కల్పితపట్టణానికి కారణం అతని సాహసయాత్రలను అతిశయోక్తులతో కూర్చి చెప్పిన కథనమే. అతను బ్రిటిషు గయానా, వెనిజులా తూర్పు ప్రాంతాలను కూడ బంగారంకోసం అన్వేషించాడు. ఎలిజబెత్ మహారాణి మరణం తర్వాత  జేమ్స్ I  మహరాజుపై కుట్రపన్నేడన్న అభియోగంతో 1618 లో అతను శిరచ్ఛేదానికి గురి అయ్యాడు.


The Silent Lover


Wrong not, sweet empress of my heart,
The merit of true passion,
With thinking that he feels no smart,
That sues for no compassion.

Silence in love bewrays more woe
Than words, though ne’er so witty:
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.

Then wrong not, dearest to my heart,
My true, though secret passion;
He smarteth most that hides his smart,
And sues for no compassion.


Sir Walter Raleigh.


Sir Walter raleigh was an English aristocrat, writer, poet, soldier, courtier, spy, and  an explorer.

He rose rapidly in the favour of Queen Elizabeth I, and was knighted in 1585. He was involved in the early English colonisation of Virginia (which includes part of present day North Carolina) under a royal patent. In 1594 Raleigh heard of a “City of Gold” in South America and sailed to find it. He published an exaggerated account of his experiences and the legend of “El Dorado” was a consequence of that. He did the same with the voyages to Guiana and eastern venezeula. After the death Queen Elizabeth, he fell out of favour with King James I and was beheaded on the charges of conspiracy against the King.

A Ditty at Dawn … K. Godavari Sarma.

Image Courtesy: http://www.joshuawoods.com


I don’t think it’s an intelligent bargain

To trade-off Larynx for silence.

The moment my ears are awake to the Summer’s day

The sweet tweeting birds

Encourage me to become a poet.

Kindling the fire in my gullet

And shutting my mouth

I continue to recline idling on the bed.

Words would be cooking within.

I hate to play a Dussasana

With ideas sleeping cozily like creased ironed clothes,

Dragging them by hair.

I have the patience of a child

Watching eagerly at the tree 

Waiting for the guava to ripen.

Suddenly, like the song of Saigal

On air on the Radio,

An image silently blossoms in my mind.

Shaking off my sleepy-bedsheet

I sit up

To become a Poet.


K. Godavari Sarma

(17th August 1954 – 8th February 1990)


Dussasana: Is the Brother of Duryodhana the antagonist of the Mahabharata Story.  He drags Droupadi into the court by her hair.

Saigal: Kundan Lal Saigal (11 April 1904 – 18 January 1947) is a noted actor, Playback Singer of the Hindi Screen of yesteryears.




స్వరపేటికని అమ్మేసి

నిశ్శబ్దాన్ని కొనుక్కోవడం

తెలివైన పని అని నేననుకోను.

వేసవి ఉదయం చెవులు విప్పగానే

కమ్మని పాటల పిట్టలన్నీ

కవి కమ్మని ప్రోత్సహిస్తాయి నన్ను.

గొంతులో నిప్పురాజేసి

పెదవులుమాత్రం బిగించి

అలాగే పడుక్కుంటాను.

పదాలేవో పచనమౌతుంటాయి లోపల.

మడతపెట్టిన ఇస్త్రీబట్టల్లా

ముడుచుకుపడుకున్న భావాల్ని


దుశ్శాసించడం నాకిష్టం లేదు.

జాంకాయ పలకబారడంకోసం

చెట్టుకేసి చూస్తూకూర్చునే కుర్రాడిలా

ఓర్పుగా నిరీక్షిస్తాను.

ఉన్నట్టుండి రేడియోలో సైగల్ లా

నా తలలో ఇమేజ్ ఒకటి

మెత్తగా వికశిస్తుంది.

నేను మత్తు దుప్పటి విదిలించి




కె. గోదావరి శర్మ

“అంతర్వాహిని” కవితా సంపుటి నుండి.

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