Mukunda Ramarao is a poet of every moment. He turns every small feeling, thought, sentence, experience into a poem, long or short. Humble to the core, he speaks affably, writes tenderly and in a thought-provoking way.
Rao writes mainly for his private self, works methodically and exuberates the universal spirit without any xenophobia which we witness these days in many parts of the world. He has written extensively on migration, tribal culture, Bhakti movement, Sufi poetry, Mia poetry (identity struggle of Muslims in Assam), Bengali Baul poetry. He has also brought world literature including poetry of many Nobel prize winners in literature into Telugu through his translations. His original poetic work in Telugu has appeared in nine volumes to this date, out of which fifty-one poems have been translated by distinguished translators Alladi Uma and Sridhar into English.
In Alone in the Night River, one finds familial affection, love towards nature, pangs of migration, question of identity and philosophical reflections on life and death. His voice is distinct and related to contemporary issues.
‘How can I Deal with You, My Dear?’ refers to the daughter’s fear, who is dependent on father’s protection, but once she becomes an adult, she has to learn to walk in darkness and live with evil spirits in the external world. Where does this evil come from if not criminality and various types of exploitation? ‘Wrenching of Heart’ portrays the eternal wait of the parents for their missing son. The searches of the house by the police keep their hopes alive. This has a resonance when we remember the number of youths missing in authoritarian regimes and under electoral autocracies in Third World countries in the post-Independence era.
Mukunda Ramarao turns every piece of observation into poetry. Many of us might have seen and ignored the baby and mother duo huddled on a berth on a long-distance train. Mother is all eyes and care: ‘all through the journey/ how much the mother and baby/ lessened distance’ (p. 55). He also writes, ‘Morning always comes/ beautifully, affectionately/ like a daughter’ (p. 58).
‘Now We Each Day’ is about an elderly couple left to themselves thriving in mutual company and memories punctuated by occasional visits of children who have grown up and have their own families to look after. ‘Sound in Silence’ is the attempt to win over silence through reading of mountain, hidden experiences and music or poetry by the elderly poet, whereas ‘On Viewing the Mountain of San Diego’ shows a grandparent and grandson looking at the sun setting which slips away spilling blood. But hope persists in his grandson awaiting the sunrise. ‘The Human Foot’ shows how one misses the past idyllic life when one returns to the place where their house stood. The commercial city has devoured the favourite place without pity. All are in search of soul and vanished spring.
The poet is deeply affected by migration that has been an existential fact. We migrate from our mother’s womb to the outside world, home to school to work place, across the countries and finally from life to death. He writes in ‘Migrant Traveller’, ‘No matter how long one lives/one is an immigrant or a traveller/ an outsider/ anywhere/anytime’ (p. 90). ‘It’ s Migration Indeed’ reveals migration as a universal experience for humans, birds, clouds, memories in time, baby in the womb, legacy for posterity.
The poet is enamoured of the five elements and cannot imagine himself apart from nature. He sees nature as colourful, a symbol of hope, uncalculating, embodiment of love, giving joy to humans and turning them philosophical about life and death. The poem ‘Contemplation’ shows the poet throwing away each sentence into water startling fish and ‘when it is dawn/ searching for the same thrown away sentences/ I/ the waves’ (p. 41).
‘Trees’ is a poem written in homage to Timmakka and her husband who planted many trees near Bangalore. Rain falls freely and hardly bothers about its influence on others or vice versa. ‘Cloud is the fully pregnant woman/ whose womb is ripe with water’ (p. 85) is a delightful metaphor.
The ‘Golden Mountain’ is a glowing homage to the mountain. It stands bracing horrendous winds, witnessing events, silent in the face of building of temples and even annihilation, a sage unmindful of treasure inside and outside, a Buddha in water unperturbed by water running towards the ocean.
‘The Lure of the Ocean’ portrays the ocean as a dense water-mirror, the womb of priceless treasure, the abode of stillness in depths, breath of waves as music and waves going on like soldiers, obedient and anarchic. The imagery of the sun staggering like a drunkard and the vanishing ships causing insomnia to the ocean are splendid.
‘Alone in the Night River’ is a beautiful poem evoking fine images. The poet is sleepless and listening to the incessant rain, and does not know why he cannot drown in that ‘dark liquid’ and get squashed ‘between the four walled night’ (p.100).
In ‘Self-introspection’ the poet is in search of self. ‘I’ (Nenu) poem is in a class of its own. He is the blood and body which migrate across regions, countries and continents. He is everything: the flower ever fresh, song universal, language of the sky, message bearing cloud, fragrant word, bright lamp, shadow of the forefathers, tree shedding tears, incessant rain and river child merging in the parent sea. ‘Deaths before Death’ tells that life and death are inseparable. Rao also refers to birth and death as two dark wombs and life as a journey on a bridge. Mother sets you on a journey and mother earth awaits on the other end called death. It is enigmatic why it visits one earlier than others (‘For You or for Me’).
The translators Alladi Uma and Sridhar have nudged the boat gently into another language through Alone in the Night River, and the reader can immerse herself in the poetry of Mukunda Ramarao.
J Ravindranath is former Professor of English, Vishakhapatnam.