Mother's Day Special: Sui Aur Taage Ke Beech Me by Kedarnath Singh
This week in Daak:
1. Sui Aur Taage Ke Beech Me / Between a Needle and Thread by Kedarnath Singh
2. The Women of Amrita Sher-Gil and Raja Ravi Varma
1. Sui Aur Taage Ke Beech Me / Between a Needle and Thread by Kedarnath Singh
ma mere akelepan ke baare me soch rahi hai
paani gir nahi raha
par gir sakta hai kisi bhi samay
mujhe bahar jaana hai
aur ma chup hai ki mujhe bahar jaana hai
yah tay hai
ki main bahar jaunga toh ma ko bhool jaunga
jaise main bhool jaunga uski katori
uska gilas
vah safed sari jisme kaali kinari hai
main ekdum bhool jaunga
jise iss samuchi duniya me ma
aur sirf meri ma pehenti hai
uske baad sardiyaan aa jaayengi
aur maine dekha hai ki sardiyaan jab bhi aati hain
toh ma thoda aur jhuk jaati hai
apni parchhayi ki taraf
oon ke baare me uske vichaar
bahut sakht hain
mrityu ke baare me behad komal
pakshiyon ke baare me
ma kuch nahi kehti
halaki neend me
vah khud ek pakshi ki tarah lagti hai
jab vah bahut zyada thak jaati hai
toh utha leti hai sui aur taaga
maine dekha hai ki sab jab so jaate hain
toh sui chalane waale uske haath
der raat tak
samay ko dheere dheere silte hain
jaise vah mera phata hua kurta ho
pichhle saath barson se
ek sui aur taage ke beech
dabi hui hai ma
halaki vah khud ek kardha hai
jis par saath baras bune gaye hain
dheere dheere tah par tah
khoob mote aur gaheen aur khurdure
saath baras
//
Mother is thinking about my loneliness
It’s not raining yet
But it could rain any moment
I must leave
And mother is silent that I must leave
It is definite
That once I leave, I will forget mother
Like I will forget her bowl
And her glass
That white saree with a black border
I will completely forget
Which in this entire world, mother
And only my mother wears
After that, winter will set in
And I’ve noticed that when winter arrives
Mother bends over a little bit more
Towards her shadow
About wool, her views are
Quite hard
About death, quite soft
About birds
Mother doesn’t say a word
Although in her sleep
She looks just like a bird
When she is very tired
She picks up a needle and thread
I’ve noticed that when everyone falls asleep
Her hands which work the needle
Late into the night
Slowly sew time together
As if time were my torn shirt
For the last sixty years
Between a needle and thread
Mother is buried
Although, she herself is a loom
On which sixty years have been woven
Slowly, layer upon layer
Fat, dense and rough
Sixty years. There is something wonderfully comforting yet poignant about this simple poem. If you’ve ever left home and moved away, you’ll see your own mother reflected in Singh’s words; her little objects, her irrational, indefatigable fears, and her singular ability to to nurture a place which feels like home. And despite her strength, you will see her frailty, and your heart will break as you remember that you too have to leave her and go out in search of a new life and home. Today (and everyday), we’re thinking about mothers everywhere, and sending them our love. Happy Mother’s Day!
2. The Women of Amrita Sher-Gil and Raja Ravi Varma
The women of Amrita Sher-Gil and Raja Ravi Varma embody grace, vivacity, and gentleness. Choose your favourite set of coasters with their most-celebrated artworks and use the discount code MOTHERSDAY.