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Of Loss, Love, and Ritual in ‘The Corpse Waits’

Mopuru’s poem depicts a grieving mother waiting for her son’s final act of love, but his indifference causes pain, symbolising multiple deaths, exclusively for Different Truths.

The dark sky withered.
Withered leaves fill the tree and scatter bitter colour.
Her corpse waits for the arrival of her son to
Hear her name being called by him,
Though she is surrounded by many others,
Crying for her and remembering her.
Waiting with closed eyes,
The flow of blood and stoned motherly affection,
Waving like waves of the ocean,
Though her breath left the body and became steam,
For the drenched, teary touch of her son, her corpse waits.
With the passage of a few hours into the womb of time,
Her son came.
He didn’t worship his mother’s feet with his flowery tears.
He didn’t call his mother’s name until his throat was whet.
For the last time, he didn’t light the lamp of his gaze towards her.
He didn’t carry her for nine feet till the graveyard,
She was the one who carried him for nine months in her womb.
Somebody else made the fire for her.
Her heart turned into pieces.
She died again and again.

Translated from Telugu by Jyothsnaphanija

Picture design by Anumita Roy

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Mopuru Penchula Narasimham
Mopuru Penchula Narasimham is a Telugu poet, short story writer, and novelist from Nellore, Andhra Pradesh, India. He is a poet of courage and clarity. He never took his visual impairment as an onset to his literary career. He hosts several literary events and is honoured with many literary awards, such as Kavita Praveena, the Ranjani Kundhurthi Poetry Prize, the Vishalakshi Poetry Prize, the North American Telugu Association’s poetry prize, and others.

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