'SATHARA' MALATHY

 POEMS BY

'SATHARA' MALATHY

REMEMBERING FELLOW-POET SATHARA MALATHI

Latha Ramakrishnan

A passionate reader and a very sensitive human being she was, one can find in her Poetry the marvelous blend of the two quotable quotes – ‘Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful emotions’ and ‘Poetry is emotions recollected in tranquility’.

Her poems reveal her passionate heart and its unanswered queries and unfulfilled dreams and they belong to one and all of us. She had experimented with various styles and tones in writing Poetry, using classical Tamil, folk-language etc. She took part in literary seminars and discussions with genuine interest and her Papers would always be balanced and analytical, avoiding overtones.

Three collections of poems – VARIKUTHIRAIGAL ( the zebras) , THANAL KODI POOKAL( fire-plant flowers), MARAMALLIGAIGAL ( a kind of trophical flowers) – one short-story collection – ANAMADHEYA KARAIGAL (anonymous shores) – one Anthology of essays on the renowned Tamil Classic Andaal Thirupaavai, analyzing the underlying theme of the verses with a rare sensibility and sensitivity, UYARPAAVAI - of Sathara Malathy have so far been published.

POETRY IS…

‘sathara’ malathy

Poetry is not a diary, nor the pages of an autobiography. It is not made of ‘I’ s. Not all of a poem are real; nor are they mere fantasy. Poems are not decorated with cleverness and strategies; nor are they made sacred with dirt.

For me, Poetry is Truth; Truth told in the best possible manner. Hiding mine as other’s, this one’s as that one’s, yet, a Truth which comes into the open, no matter however hard one would try to hide it. A poem without this Truth can only be superficial, with no real substance.

1. LOVERS

They meet on Valentine’s Day

Those no lovers _

as in wedding days

Lovers don’t meet. They Be.

When all drenched in fire

and break apart

They Be.

For mutual gifts

they have no Worlds.

When gifts happen

Worlds don’t have them.

Yes. Gods too are

lovers-like Spirits.



2) THE DUEL

Banging against the stone of language

repeatedly

I voiced my woes.

The Tongue remained unstirred.

Cold War.

And, banging against my heart

again and again

it gained entry

as Poetry



3) THE THREE DIVISIONS OF TIME

Seeping into Yesterday, I,

not flowing in Today

froze in ‘day before yesterday

’having no time to melt.

The minutes are but

veritable milestones.

In the wind of sorrow

bounced and battered

the poem that melts,

so moved,

in the darkness of my tongue

would gain its voice from the light

you would give tomorrow

with the word having gone dead

climbing the wall

and moving ahead.



4) NEED

Just like ‘parrot-hunger

Suffice if there are

Fruits of Syllables.

Why can’t you say

At once ?

That it’s sickening!

Swallowing atrocious Delays

I can’t satiate My hunger.



5) THIS IS NO RESPONSE

I have no response to your letter.

Tears can never be written

in a piece of paper.

My problem is that

I wished to get back the Loan

that I had given elsewhere,

from You.

My failure is that

I was born dead.

For those share of my heart

that have suffered loss

let’s pay homage.

If only time would block

My ebbs and flows

from reaching your shores

my thanks will be million and more.