The Fourth Dimension

K. Padmakumar *

The golden sun shone,
The earth looked reddish.
The silvery moon shone,
And the moon bathed the earth in silver light.

In the bright morning of April
The reddish flowers in full bloom
In the top of silky oak called –
And at its call I could not remain at home.

In the month of September
The moon was silvering the countryside;
We played in the courtyard
And were jumping in the moonlight.

When I saw nightingales play
With red flowers of Indian coral tree
On the way to attend school
I stopped and looked at it for a few moments.

When I saw the chubby cheeks of a peach
As if it had put on vermillion powder,
I gazed at the mouth-watering display in wonder
And ate up all of it.

When I saw the mother latafish swim
Along with a brood of fries
Among heavy bunches of green sawgrass
I had a sudden affection for the sight.

At daybreak
When the black drongo made the first sound
I woke everyday to an early morning
With the dawn chorus.

After seeing the poor little things of birds
Craning out of their nest,
I know these were nesting on the heights of my heart
And my dreams were resonant with their images.

I all alone played with a ball
Throwing it up and down
Beside the pond by the school
At the free period.

The ball slipped into the pond
All red in colour on the waters.
Away and away it floated,
And though I stretched out a hand, I could not pick it up.

(2)

I picked it up with a stick eventually
And the wet ball broke into two
In the palm of my hand
And I was wonderstruck.

When I saw my domesticated duck
Searching for its food in the eastern ditch
I suddenly remembered my dream
And the two balls of yesterday.
I had a mental picture of the pond
All bright and all clear
And the ball becoming two in the blink of an eye.

With a flash of insight I realized
And at the signal of the ball
My hair stood on end
And I trembled with excitement.

I went to the duck house
Quickly and impatiently
Like looking at rope walking
Made one nervous.

The moment I saw
Two eggs lying side by side
All glittered with whiteness
I was happy to the core.

It was a dream dreamt by me
And a dream pregnant with meanings.
It was a ball liked by children
And a bird tended and caressed in love.

A duck is to the water and so are the egg and the ball
The difference is in colour only
Waking life and dreams are but one,
So great was the insight, I do still wonder
at the eventual realization.

(Translated from my late father's Manipuri poem Ahumsuba Mit by K. Radhakumar)