KOKILAMMA’S WEDDING

 

BY VISWANATHA SATYANARAYANA

(Rendered from Telugu by G. Dharma Rao)

 

Translator’s Note

 

Sri Viswanatha Satyanarayana is one of the foremost of modern Telugu writers, noted for versatility of theme and vigour of style. As a poet he has written much, and though his output in the field of narrative and drama is not inconsiderable, his popularity Tests largely on his lyrics, chief of which are Kinnera-Sani Patalu (Songs of Kinnera) and Kokilamma-Pelli (Kokilamma’s Wedding). An English rendering of the latter is attempted here.

 

It has to be noted that this piece, like all good poetry, loses much in the process of translation. One melody cannot easily be translated by another. So are the music and idiom of a language, to speak of the atmosphere.

 

Kokilamma’s Wedding owes much of its uniqueness and charm to the mastery of the inherent wealth of spoken Telugu idiom and the lilt and cadence of its stanzas. It is a treat to hear the poet sing his own poem.

 

The story is like any fairy-tale, though the last stanza connecting Chilaka-thalli with Sanskrit and Kokilamma with Telugu is suggestive.

 

Callow youth may scoff:

To them I pay no heed:

Old, old tales I’ll dig

Out of the dusty past.

 

Like a brood of cobras young, the sinuous sea-waves

Do creep and creep shoreward,

And break and glide way.

 

A wood abuts the shore, and in the wood

Are giant trees. The wind that stirs

The waves doth move those giant trees.

 

At dead of night the pink-eyed virgin-stars above,

Into the wood and into the sea

Do peep and smile.

 

At sundown along the marge,

The winsome wind urchins do saunter

In lovely gait.

 

In the whirling mid-sea

The serpent-maidens do float and swim

Out of mortal sight.

 

Fields of gold, and fields of flowers,

Fringe the shore. Just touch the flowers,

And the milky sap doth ooze.

 

My tales relate to long-forgotten times.

The Telugu land was naught then

But hills and woody dales,

 

Along the shore a hamlet stood, and a King ruled it.

The Telugu folk even in those far-off times

Were men of power and fame.

 

In the bamboos, strings of pearls,

And out of the spindle, plenty of cloth.

And so, like the sudden up-rise of the moon,

The King’s fame shone.

 

A great lord he was: in his land

Was nothing improper done: nor did

Sham civilisation sap the land.

 

Men tilled at need’s dictate. None

E’en touched a plot beyond his need.

 

The rest of the realm was wood-land

That clomb the hills and kissed the maiden clouds;

And timely rains did fall.

 

Each had what he wanted: And

’tween man and man was ne’er a brawl

Heard or known.

 

The King had daughters twain:

The Moduga 1 bloomed in their lips,

The elder was Chilaka-thalli 2 named,

And the younger Kokil-amma. 3

 

Kokilamma was dark,

But ‘parrot-mother’ of brighter hue:

And never was love lost between the two!

 

When Chilaka-thalli began to lisp

While yet so young, her father’s heart

Was thrilled to joy.

 

Years passed and Kokilamma

Was old enough to speak. But alas!

Not a word could she utter!

 

Saris of diverse colours and tints,

To ‘mother-parrot’ her father would fetch,

But he was worth with ‘Kokil-mother’ for nothing!

 

At this Chilaka-thalli would laugh

While the father winked:

Poor Kokil looked at her mother

And turned quite pale!

 

When ‘parrot-mother’ jeered her,

And her father scolded her,

Hapless Kokil hid behind her mother

With a trembling heart.

 

Helpless was the mother, and even vexed:

Finding no solace, poor Kokilamma

Pined and pined within.

 

Every day she would mingle her sobs

With the waves’ hum: with vacant stare watch the foam,

And turn away.

 

Or she would sit in the forest under a tree

Revolving her woes,

And sitting, sink on the forest floor.

 

She longed to tell her plight to tree or bush:

But cruel God,

To her the gift of speech denied.

 

So the livelong day she roamed along the brooks,

And in the sand built nests

For sparrows without nests.

 

Pacing down the hill-side rills,

Feasting her eyes on the hill-side flowers,

She kept away from home, even unto the darkling dusk.

 

Oft-times, she made the wood her home all night.

All night her mother would sigh at home

In anxious expectancy.

 

The seasons came and went:

Rains, and then the chilly days, and autumn:

Then Spring smiled and buds blazed into beauty.

 

Flowerets at branches’ end,

Clusters and clusters on end:

Flowers this side, flowers that side,

And fragrance everywhere!

 

Then, like the vein in a tender shoot,

Like honey in a butter-cup,

Came youth to the sisters two.

 

Wonder-struck by Chilaka-thalli’s lore,

And charmed by her beauty,

E’en the wind-lads were smitten with longing.

 

Her beauty spilled and overflowed

Over the land. Even those

Who never saw her, were loud in their praise.

 

The Queen of trees waved aloft her head

And sang songs of Chilaka-thalli

Somewhere afar in the heavens,

Out of an overflowing heart.

 

The winsome wind-children wandering at sunset,

Poured out Chilaka-thalli’s beauty

In breath eloquent.

 

Countless were the men who proposed

For a bride so rare:

That was why her parents guarded her with utmost care.

 

And lest the lords of sea and wood

Should snatch the maid and possess her,

They would not let her cross the threshold.

 

Like the eyelid the eye, they guard her,

She was not to step beyond the courtyard,

No, not even to do the duties of home.

 

Her beauty’s rivulets

Do branch and shape into wondrous forms,

Raining honey-drops

In sprays of rarest grace.

 

Doting on the beauty of ‘Parrot-mother’

Lost in thoughts of the wedding of ‘Parrot-mother’,

Her parents never lent a thought to ‘Mother-kokil’.

 

Then came one afternoon a Brahmana,

His golden ear-pendents shining on his cheeks,

To the royal palace.

 

The parents of Chilaka-thalli made him welcome,

And offered presents to his heart’s content.

 

Chanting the Vedic hymns

And itching, for a debate,

He stayed as a guest with the Telugu King.

 

Listening to his musical recitals,

Admiring his glowing form,

Chilaka-thalli bound him to her heart.

 

Aware of all that passed, the King perchance was full of joy:

But the mother was not too pleased with Chilaka-thalli’s ways.

 

For Kokilamma hath taken to the hills and dales,

And doth not return home.

How heart-heavy is her mother for her!

 

An unknown alien stepped into the house,

And the ‘Parrot-mother’ all of a sudden

Fell in love with him!

 

While Kokilamma wandered the forests wild,

A forlorn wastrel, lost to her mother.

 

Along wood’s and dales, and gurgling brooks,

With faltering steps the mother walked,

In anxious search.

 

In the dark shades where roaming tigers rest

At midday bright, she searched,

Her heart throbbing with terror.

 

She looked for her in secret walks and well-heads

Where tiger and lynx slake their thirst and lie in wait.

 

Along forest-depths she groped, by human feet untrod,

But strewn with footprints of beasts of prey.

 

She paced along tracks where blood-hounds prowl,

That can kill even tigers and suck them into a pulp.

 

Sighing deep, she probed into the dense wood

Where pythons sleep after feasting on fowl.

 

She searched here, she searched there,

But Kokilamma was nowhere to be seen:

And the mother’s heart was rent in twain.

 

At last, beside a mushini 4 tree

Whose roots went deep into a brook,

She sank listless.

 

The while, the daughter followed in silent steps.

And touched to the quick by her mother’s distress,

Burst into a sudden cry.

 

She rumbled like thunder,

And flashed like lightning,

And in a bound fell in her mother’s lap.

 

They hugged each other, mother and child,

They hugged with eyes all closed:

Senseless they both cowered at the foot of the tree.

 

There they lay in tight embrace

And in utter forgetfulness:

Neither of them woke up, nor opened her eyes.

 

“Surely this is the love of mother and Child!”

Sang the brooklet in the wood.

 

“Surely this is the love of mother and child!”

Sang the quivering creepers in the wood.

 

“Surely this is the love of mother and child!”

Piped the wind-lads through bamboo flutes.

 

“Surely this is the love of mother and child!”

Sang Mother Nature in ecstasy lost.

 

‘Without the wee ubiquitous Kokil

Ever on the move, like the pulley over a well,

The forest looked bare and forlorn.

 

The forest spring stood widowed of her beauty,

As no more did Kokilamma bathe in its waters

Nor taste of them.

 

When Kokilamma no longer picks their shoots,

Nor wears their flowers,

How can beauty deck the saplings wild?

 

The forest glades where once roamed Kokilamma,

The forest, bereft of Kokilamma,

How can they retain their spring-time charm?

 

“Immortal is Kokilamma that loved her mother so,”

Sang the swinging mango blossom in the wood.

 

“Kokilamma that loved her mother so, shall ne’er be drowned,”

Murmured the fountain in the wood.

 

“Kokilamma that loved her mother so, shall come back to life,”

Sang the wood herself.

 

Shedding her tender light the moon declared,

‘Love never, never, dies.”

 

Rains ceased: the dales were full of water:

Autumn ran its course.

 

Like a little maiden with vermilion on her slender brow,

And decked for a festival,

The entire wood burgeoned into flower and leaf.

 

Like a wheat-brown cobra, like a stream of cocoanut milk,

The little spring meandered

In coy gracefulness.

 

Then, somewhere, from a far end of the wood, floated a song,

Full faint, and soft, and sweet.

 

And hearing the song, the whole wood

Stood in mute surprise,

Like one who sees a lost kinsman come back.

 

At first a slender current,

The spring widened as it flowed:

Till, unable to hold itself,

It raced along the woods.

 

“Lo! the Kokil has come back!

Hearken! the Kokil sings again!

She is alive, she is alive!”

 

So crying, the wood-fount rolled in joy.

The lovely young mango bloomed again.

 

Meanwhile the wood looked glorious with heightened beauty.

 

Then came the King of flowers, Prince Charming;

His face wreathed in smiles, to woo her there.

 

He comes but once a year,

And when he comes, he brings

Flowers innumerable.

His are the charms and graces.

 

“Welcome to thee, King of flowers,

Thou hast brought many a flower;

Those very flowers shall be her dower.

 

“Kokilamma we’ll deck as a bride,

And thee as a bride-groom,

And yoke you both in Hymen’ s bonds.

 

“Thou by thy beauty,

And she by her melody,

Do make a perfect pair.

 

“Come, O King of flowers,

Come, O handsome youth,

To Kokilamma a husband fit,

And to thee a fit bride she.”

 

For the bridal, over the entire wood

The buds they turned festal wreaths,

And in the rocky caves the tigers wild stood guard.

 

The thin white springlet played the hymeneal pipe,

And when Mother Nature opened her eyes,

There was a burst of flowers like moonlight.

 

Flowers rained in showers,

Honey-sweet songs filled the air,

Paths of beauty swam into the view,

And golden harvests reaped.

 

Chilaka-thalli’s noble lies

Hath preserved for us Samskritic lore:

While Kokilamma’s treasure is the sweet Telugu tongue.

 

 

1 a red forest flower.

2 & 3 ‘thalli’ and ‘amma’ are Telugu words meaning ‘mother’–the usual feminine suffixes in Telugu. ‘Chilaka’ and ‘Kokil’ are ‘parrot’ and ‘cuckoo’.

4 Mushini is a tree with bitter leaves and berries.

 

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