Writing is like T20 batting. If you block, you might as well retire to the pavilion! -- Pete Langman
Expat in Germany

Saturday, July 7, 2018

Pothana is ever relevant

Mandaara makaranda maadhuryamunadelu...

Mahati cycled turned around the corner, slowly, oblivious to the natural beauty around her. Cycling. Thinking. Cycling. Staring into the distance. Cycling. As the bike passed right next to the pink flower in the green grass, the honey bee rose from it...

Madhupambu vovune madhanamulaku

to check whats going on, but not wanting to let go of the sweet summer flower...

Nirmala mandakini vichikala thoogu...

Mahati turned right, passed the golden carpet of the harvest ready wheat fields and cycled parallel to the tiny stream, gurgling on the pebbles and stones. The ducks stayed in the water fearlessly, gliding along, smoothly, with the water flow...

Rayancha jaanune tharanginulaku

unmindful of the disturbance created by the passing bike in the surroundings...

Lalitha rasaala pallava khaadhiyai chokku...

As the clouds scattered the setting sun's light, spreading the rays as if to bathe the Earth in the warm shower of the evening sun, the Mocking bird started singing, as if to mock the mechanical life of human beings...

Kokila cherune kutajamulaku

Mahati then turned her bike towards her home, to heat and eat the frozen pizza, to wake up early the next morning, and to be successful!

Vinutha gunaseela maatalu veyunela!?

Do I need to explain further!?