Poem by Sudhakar Gaidhani (Prepared Angela Kosta)
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SUDHAKAR GAIDHANI (INDIA)
Sudhakar Gaidhani M.A.M.F.A.from Nagpur University-Maharashtra-India. His mother tongue is Marathi. He knows three languages, Marathi, Hind and English.His poems have been translated into 35 languages of the world. 2 epic poems, 6 poetry collections, three staged plays and 125 short Radio plays are at his credit.He has received many State, National and International awards including William Blake International Award from Contact International Journal from Romania and “Silver Cross for Culture” World Medal from World Union of Poets- Italy.Contact International journal has dedicated its Oct.Dec.2021 issue to Gaidhani’s poetry.
Municipality Khapa City is opened the beautiful garden in two acres Gaidhani’s birthplace in his name and the honour–“Mahakavi (Epic Poet) Sudhakar Gaidhani” in 2006.
World Academy of Arts and Culture- USA/World Congress of Poets has been conferred upon him “Doctor of Literature (Litt.D.) held in 2017 in Mongolia.
He has toured to few countries for literary purpose and participated in international events.
Globally known Hon. great poet, translator, philosopher and critic Acad.Prof.Dr.Liviu Pendefunda translated my epic poem "DEVDOOT:THE ANGEL containing 10000 lines with 5 cantos from English to Romanian and on 10th November 2023 in a World Premier event in Miroslava city, it was published through Contact International Publishing House, Romania.
AGE CAN BE WASHED LIKE A GARMENT
Age too, after washing like a garment
has to be dried
on the ropes of life
But if the age itself is older
than the garments
Then the soap's foam
must turn into a peacock's feather,
And the body must be cleansed
with the handkerchief of mind
But if the garment itself
has reached its age
Then, separating the threads
of the worn-out garment,
like bathing a child lightly with hands,
it needs to be cleansed
And weaving with a needle, with love,
the patches need to be stitched again
And, at the final moment of soap,
it needs to be handed over to
the waves of the mind
And, to the evening
waiting on the shore,
the tired day of life
needs to be surrendered
forever, with pleasure
This is nirvana
This is salvation.
UTERUS OF THE MUSSELS
A man steals the pearls
by tearing open the uterus
of the mussels
with a spear
The murderer dances
with joy as the mothers of pearls
die in crackling
And the God adorned
with garlands of pearls
Who is in the temple
silently watching this masscare
with His open kind eyes !
Prepared Angela Kosta Executive Director of MIRIADE Magazine, Academic, journalist, writer, poet, essayist, literary critic, editor, translator
