कल तक जो धधक रहा था (मसौदा)

कल तक जो धधक रहा था,
वह बारिश के पानी में बुझ गया है,
राख और अँगारे फैक्टरियों के नालों में बह गए,
हर ओर धुआँ है बस
इस धुएँ में दम घुटता है,
आँखें जलती हैं,
नज़र आती हैंअभी भी सभी ओर दैत्याकार फैक्टरियां,
रास्तों में सन्नाटा भरा है,
उस तरह ही जैसे स्टील की पट्टी से हाथ लगे चीरे के घाव में भरा हो मवाद,
बस बारिश के पानी की आवाज़, नालों में बहते पानी की आवाज़ आती है,
फैक्टरियों का शोर आदत बन चूका है,
रास्तों के कुछ कोनों पर लोग दीवारों की ओर मुहँ किये खड़े हैं,
शांत, भीगते हुए,
पर आँखों में गुस्सा है, भीषण गुस्सा।
जैसे नाटक के पात्र फ्रीज़ हुए खड़े हों,
ताप जो भीषण धधकती आग में पैदा हुआ वह ज़िंदा है अभी
पर अभिव्यक्त नहीं होता उन शांत मुद्राओं में,
खड़े रहना महज वक़्त काटना नहीं है,
यह इंतज़ार है
बारिश के थमने का, अपने सीनों के रिस्ते ज़ख्मों के भरने का,
उमस हर ओर है, बारिश तपिश को बूझा नहीं पा रही है,
अभी और बरसेगा पानी, घाव सड़ेगा और, नाटक का फ्रीज़ अभी नहीं टूटेगा,

उन चौकों पर जहाँ मज़दूर गुजरते थे,
जहाँ नारे गूंजते थे, सभाएं जमती थीं,
बंजर है रेगिस्तान की तरह, बस कुछ लोग खड़े हैं ढफली बजाते हुए,
बारिश का शोर ढफली पर भारी पड़ता है पर ढफली अपनी ताल पर
बजती है लगातार, पतझड़ में बसंत का आह्वान करते हुए,
पानी भरे गड्ढों ने चौकों को छैक लिया है,
मज़दूरों को कोनों में धकेल दिया है,
इन पानी भरे गड्ढों में बीमारियां पलेंगी,
पानी के कारण बनती बिगड़ती तस्वीर में लाल लाल रंग इन गड्ढों में बने डिबरों
में दीखता है,
लाल लाल अक्षरों वाले पोस्टर जिसके रंग बारिश में घुल रहे हैं,
वे स्मृतियाँ जो जिसमें संघर्ष की आग बाकी है वही पोस्टरों में झलकती है,
धधक बुझ गयी है पर उसके ताप को
मज़दूरों की आँखों ने सोख लिया है,
लाल लाल खून से फड़कती आँखों ने.   

Tired

Prison, today I surrender to you.

You know I have fought you,

Tooth and nail,

No holds barred,

These five months.

I’ve snapped my fingers in your fave

and sung lusty melodies

in the gloom of my cell.

I’ve held loud colloquies with the walls

Filling the loneliness with bragging defiance.

You know what you’ve done to me

these past lonely months?

You’ve denied me food and drink;

you’ve bulldozed my mind

and laid waste my dreams,

till the warscape of my thought

looks like Guernica,

bombed and blasted by fascists.

You’ve taken my wife and child from me

and amputated without chloroform

the wherewithal of

love and affection.

you’ve destroyed my habits’

taken me from my books,dammit,

and my work,

feeding me constantly on self-defeating perversion,

like rotten apples

tossed out from hotels

at dawn.

You’ve poisoned me,

 you’re good at it.

But today I’m tired and beaten.

You’ll admit it’s been

an unequal fight,

the dice have been loaded from the start ;

the entire state machine,

men, rifles, uniforms and spies

against one man.

I give up prison,

if that’s the way you wish to win

I throw in my tattered towel

and holler ‘enough’.

But don’t get me wrong,

you’ve not made me sorry for myself,

for I hate self-pity

as a virgin hates her chastity.

You won’t see me cry or whine

Or beg for mercy on my knees.

I won’t unsay a word I’ve said,

Won’t lick the spittle

I’ve once thrown up.

You haven’t made me want to live

a whit differently if

I were to live again.

I’m just a bit tired, prison, pardon me,

just a bit weakened by

hunger and loneliness,

and often I am so tired

that I watch my cigar burn between my fingers

and just cannot puff at it.

I wish to sleep now, prison

Prison, today I surrender to you.

You know I have fought you,

Tooth and nail,

No holds barred,

These five months.

I’ve snapped my fingers in your fave

and sung lusty melodies

in the gloom of my cell.

I’ve held loud colloquies with the walls

Filling the loneliness with bragging defiance.

You know what you’ve done to me

these past lonely months?

You’ve denied me food and drink;

you’ve bulldozed my mind

and laid waste my dreams,

till the warscape of my thought

looks like Guernica,

bombed and blasted by fascists.

You’ve taken my wife and child from me

and amputated without chloroform

the wherewithal of

love and affection.

you’ve destroyed my habits’

taken me from my books,dammit,

and my work,

feeding me constantly on self-defeating perversion,

like rotten apples

tossed out from hotels

at dawn.

You’ve poisoned me,

 you’re good at it.

But today I’m tired and beaten.

You’ll admit it’s been

an unequal light,

the dice have been loaded from the start ;

the entire state machine,

men, rifles, uniforms and spies

against one man.

I give up prison,

if that’s the way you wish to win

I throw in my tattered towel

and holler ‘enough’.

But don’t get me wrong,

you’ve not made me sorry for myself,

for I hate self-pity

as a virgin hates her chastity.

You won’t see me cry or whine

Or beg for mercy on my knees.

I won’t unsay a word I’ve said,

Won’t lick the spittle

I’ve once thrown up.

You haven’t made me want to live

a whit differently if

I were to live again.

I’m just a bit tired, prison,pardon me,

just a bit weakened by

hunger and loneliness,

and often I am so tired

that I watch my cigar burn between my fingers

and just cannot puff at it.

I wish to sleep now, prison,

sleep till my tensed flesh melts,

memories unknot, lungs emit

the foulness and stench

you’ve fed them on.

I don’t care if you keep me down,

spreadeagled under the

weight of stonesd,

crucified by your barbed wire

for fifty years more.

I know I won’t live that long.

I can see a strange person,

rather sad-looking, fleshless, white-boned

at the foot of my bed

night after night,

smiling liplessly, calli

ng me to the beyond.

I can’t sleep at

night, prison,

for this bore of a visitor won’t let me.

figs to you prison, for I’ll be off with him

long before decided

to kill me.

February 15,1966, Night. 

Utpal Dutt

Utpal Dutt was detained under the DIR in Calcutta in September 1965, along with prominent communists, for his political activities . He was released in March 1966.

son,

sleep till my tensed flesh melts,

memories unknot, lungs emit

the foulness and stench

you’ve fed them on.

I don’t care if you keep me down,

spreadeagled under the

weight of stonesd,

crucified by your barbed wire

for fifty years more.

I know I won’t live that long.

I can see a strange person,

rather sad-looking, fleshless, white-boned

at the foot of my bed

night after night,

smiling liplessly, calli

ng me to the beyond.

I can’t sleep at

night, prison,

for this bore of a visitor won’t let me.

figs to you prison, for I’ll be off with him

long before decided

to kill me.

February 15,1966, Night. 

Utpal Dutt

Utpal Dutt was detained under the DIR in Calcutta in September 1965, along with prominent communists, for his political activities . He was released in March 1966.