by Paash*

I can prove
two and two make three.
The present is liestory.
The human face looks like a spoon.
You know –
bills and bills of a hundred
move on in courts, bus-stands and parks –
writing diaries, taking pictures,
completing reports.

Sons are made to rape their mothers
in the ‘Law Protection Centres.’
‘Dacoits’ toil in the fields.
The declaration of accepting demands
is made by dropping bombs.

That loving your own people could mean
spying for the ‘enemy nation.’
And the reward for the greatest treachery
could be the highest seat.

So two and two can make three;
the present could be liestory
and the human face too
can look like a spoon.

* Paash (1950-1988) was a phenomenon in Punjabi poetry that changed its direction forever. The poem translated here has been taken from his first book of poems, Loh-Katha (Iron-Tale) (1970) published when he was not even 20, and in jail on false murder charges. Impeccable sharp-edged images from everyday life, and a deep ‘violent’ sense of belonging to his land and surroundings dominate his poetry. In his brief life-span of 37 years, Paash published three books of poems, edited a number of literary magazines, authored some finely evocative essays, besides authoring a biography of the legendary athlete Milkha Singh. Already a poet of formidable repute and widely travelled, he was murdered in his home village by the Khalistanis in March 1988.