You know the problem with Wikipedia?
Google is equally bad. I started off looking at wedding dresses online (P.S.: I want to look like this... or maybe like this)
Four hours of "fascinated clicking" later, I end up on a site for Mee Mazha. Before we go there though, I have to confess my secret shame. I have read very little Marathi literature. Very very little. True, the little I have read is really good. Some stories by P.L. Deshpande. A gigantic two part epic about Shivaji. And, of course, Mrityunjaya - the revisionist story about Karna. My parents were very surprised I made it through that book... they didn't realise that Karna was my favourite mythological character.
But other than those, the only Marathi book I ever read was a little pocket book collection of 4 line poems by Chandrashekhar Gokhale - Mee Mazha. Turns out, it's quite a popular little book, several people quote it online. Which is a good thing for me, because I can effortlessly copy from their sites on to mine, for your reading pleasure.
We'll skip the romantic ones shall we? Happy romantic poems are either trite or cringe-inducingly mushy. Poems about the loss of the loved one are less awful, since the poet has been hit by a healthy dose of reality.
The kind of poetry I like is the cynical type with a tinge of pathos.
इथे वेडे असन्याचे
खूप फायदे आहेत
शहाण्यान साठी ज़ग्ण्याचे
काटेकोर कायदे आहेत
[In this world there are many advantages to being mad. The so-called sane ones need to abide by very strict rules]
पाण्याच वाग्णं
किती विसंगत
पोहोणार्याला बुडवून
प्रेताला ठेवत तरंगत
[Water behaves very inconsistently. It drowns a swimmer, but makes the corpse float]
God, these sound morbid in English! If Chandrashekhar Gokhale were in school, he'd be put under psychological supervision!
Alright, here's one that's more ironic than morbid.
घराभोवती कुंपण हवं
म्हणजे आप्ल जग ठरवता येतं
बाहेर बर्बटलेलं अस्लंतरी
आपल्या पुरतं सावर्ता येतं
[This one is going to be slaughtered in the translation...
We build a fence around our homes, to mark out our world. So we can ignore the messiness outside, and keep our corner tidy.]
No smart exit line for today's post. Just the dawning realisation that globalization can kill cultures. And what shame it would be if my mother tongue died out...
Google is equally bad. I started off looking at wedding dresses online (P.S.: I want to look like this... or maybe like this)
Four hours of "fascinated clicking" later, I end up on a site for Mee Mazha. Before we go there though, I have to confess my secret shame. I have read very little Marathi literature. Very very little. True, the little I have read is really good. Some stories by P.L. Deshpande. A gigantic two part epic about Shivaji. And, of course, Mrityunjaya - the revisionist story about Karna. My parents were very surprised I made it through that book... they didn't realise that Karna was my favourite mythological character.
But other than those, the only Marathi book I ever read was a little pocket book collection of 4 line poems by Chandrashekhar Gokhale - Mee Mazha. Turns out, it's quite a popular little book, several people quote it online. Which is a good thing for me, because I can effortlessly copy from their sites on to mine, for your reading pleasure.
We'll skip the romantic ones shall we? Happy romantic poems are either trite or cringe-inducingly mushy. Poems about the loss of the loved one are less awful, since the poet has been hit by a healthy dose of reality.
The kind of poetry I like is the cynical type with a tinge of pathos.
इथे वेडे असन्याचे
खूप फायदे आहेत
शहाण्यान साठी ज़ग्ण्याचे
काटेकोर कायदे आहेत
[In this world there are many advantages to being mad. The so-called sane ones need to abide by very strict rules]
पाण्याच वाग्णं
किती विसंगत
पोहोणार्याला बुडवून
प्रेताला ठेवत तरंगत
[Water behaves very inconsistently. It drowns a swimmer, but makes the corpse float]
God, these sound morbid in English! If Chandrashekhar Gokhale were in school, he'd be put under psychological supervision!
Alright, here's one that's more ironic than morbid.
घराभोवती कुंपण हवं
म्हणजे आप्ल जग ठरवता येतं
बाहेर बर्बटलेलं अस्लंतरी
आपल्या पुरतं सावर्ता येतं
[This one is going to be slaughtered in the translation...
We build a fence around our homes, to mark out our world. So we can ignore the messiness outside, and keep our corner tidy.]
No smart exit line for today's post. Just the dawning realisation that globalization can kill cultures. And what shame it would be if my mother tongue died out...
