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Telugu poetry

MAA OORU — Poems on native places: Cheekolu Sundarayya, Ranjani — Compilers; Telugu Sahiti Samithi, A.G. Office, Hyderabad-500004. Rs. 100.

"BEYOND YONDER copse... " begins Goldsmith and goes on to describe a deserted village, the village preacher, the village teacher and so on. The images were etched in the memory of the children who learnt these poems as part of their school lessons. There were many other such poems, which they remembered to the end of their lives.

Our own poets were far superior in this respect. Pothana's description of the scenes in Brindavan after Krishna left the village cannot be read without tears in the eyes.

Even Thyagaraja in his song "Muripemu" has given such a graphic picture of Thiruvaiyaru that a painter can easily paint the village as it looked in the early 19th century. The rural scene described by Guruzada in his poem "Poornamma" is unforgettable.

But when one turns the pages of this book where 160 modern poems have been written by modern poets on their native places, something sticks in the throat. Have all the villages in dear Andhra Pradesh disappeared? Were there no teachers in the schools in those villages whose students have made good in their lives and come back to fall at the feet of their affectionate masters? Were there not women in the remote villages of Telengana grieving over their dead babies whom they could not feed because the Nizam's men in those days molested them and emptied their milk on to the fields saying the fields needed fluids, not the babies?

Barring about half-a-dozen these modern poets are unable to give any meaningful expression to such scenes.

These pieces can hardly be called poems and are mostly autobiographical — nothing to remember. The exceptions are Guntur Seshendra Sarma's "Aadmiparvam", a description of deteriorating Hyderabad. Yakoob's "Theegalachinta" about his younger days when they grew up without bothering about their religions and his other piece on the village canal make interesting reading. Rama's Smrithi Geetham is touching.

G.D.

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