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பிரியா விடை - Saarvaagan

பிரியா விடை - Saarvaagan All of a sudden, I experienced some strange feeling. I didn’t feel my own body weight. I just got up on the sickbed. A hazy surrounding made blurry visuals. My feet didn’t ground on floor and I felt like floating in air. I couldn’t understand anything. I turned back, seen my own body on the sickbed. I could perceive amidst the fog, some five or six persons around my sickbed. My wife was on the head of the sickbed with tears flowing like a leaky street water fountain. Her hair stuck all over her face that resembled the streaks of ink on a bloating paper. On the right side, my daughter was sobbing. Her face was swollen due to this continued sobbing. Covering her face with her palm she was sobbing with her shoulders and her back periodically swaying like a clock pendulum at every second. A little away, my son-in-law, like nobody, was staring at emptiness. The only thing that he was up to was scratching the mole at the hair line of his bald h...
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I have translated 12 stories from சார்வாகன் கதைகள் almost a couple of years back. Its my first translation effort. After which, I have translated 11 children stories (படக்கதைகள்) for Mr. Arvind Gupta, "Toys from trash". They are published online in archive.org. Out of the 12 stories, I have posted 3 of them here after a review and revision. Nothing so far reached any publisher from my side. I look forward for any suggestion which might improve the work. Out of these three stories I found நாதப்பிரும்மம் very challenging. There is yet another story "கடவுள் சிரித்தார்", which I found really taxing. yet to review.  Almost, each and every story is of different characteristics and posed variety of challenges. I can't really explain why I took சார்வாகன் கதைகள். I just started reading as a habit and suddenly thought of translating each story one after the other. Then came to know about Dr. Hari Srinivasan, ( சார்வாகன்) from Thalam (தளம்) magazine. Interacted wit...
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நாதப்பிரும்மம்-சார்வாகன்

நாதப்பிரும்மம்-சார்வாகன் “Wind, the Lord begotten All the good sounds of earth Compose the sounds in melodic Harmony Sing and rejoice” Morning sun emerged out ripping the sky. With his thousand golden hands and Dridhrashtra’s resolve gripping all of the earth, started rising in the sky puffing up. Mr. Common man out from captivating pleasurable slumber rubbing his eyes stretching and yawning set out in search of tooth brush. The omnipresence of the lord of Sounds gives life and strength to the world. Sparrows, Parrots, tilted head crow priests, caw in a rough tone even though no one listen to it; bells, cows and oxen, cubs, shandrydans started moving on the gravel topped roads wobbling like a drunkard. The houses that ware dark and silent like a ruined hall came lively like the temple of festival times. Sound of water sprinkling, sound of sweeping the floor, sounds like, Rama wake up, where is water, could not find soap, who has gone into bathroom and yet to...
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கனவுக் கதை சார்வாகன் (English)

 கனவுக் கதை சார்வாகன் When we reached National store there was no crowd of customers at all. It is a kind of comfort at Natesan’s shop. There would never be rush of crowd. Black, green and red peppermints, rubber balls, cheap pens, assorted color inks in bottles (sold not in bottles but just loosely measured) soaps, combs (no mirrors in National Stores), something to enhance the personality before and after shave, dies to blacken white hairs, a pair of nose ………….. four ruled, with varieties of rules, unruled, cross ruled -- bundles of notebooks, pencils, and many more items, everything waits for the buyers. Usually we are the ones used to be standing there. Natesan used to be all smiles and would extend a welcome saying “vaanga vaanga”. He would not expose the brown tinted teeth line. His teeth used to be white. He is not habituated to chewing betel leaf and nuts. Only smoking. That too, not inside the shop. He has no such habits of drinking, illicit relations, gambling, racin...
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விஸ்வரூபம் – சார்வாகன்

Visvarupam by Saarvaagan Who is he? What is his name? Ram? Mugrugan? Muniyan? Maadan? Muthan? Markandan? Mahadevan? I see him daily. I see him, whenever I search for the neem stick, on waking up while packing my sleep with sleeping mat. He used to be drinking porridge under the neem tree. On that day also he was doing the same. The mud pot from which he was drinking porridge was black, covered with dirt resembled a deity that is equally black and dirt covered that has not been worshiped. Soft cheeked kids with dried tears with dirt marks and with shrunken eyes were sleeping beside him. Job. Has he a job to go for? Is he in search of a job? Why should he be going for a job, if it does not fetch him a good meal? Who is he? What is his name? I have a thousand names, Sahasranaamam.   I am nameless, Anamadhayam. I am a person. A common man. A numbered prisoner. A Policeman. A...
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