Ramabai C. Trikannad
A couple of years ago, I reproduced two of my late grandmother's poems Love Ageth Not and How Long? Here is another, which, in my opinion, reveals a different side to her writing. The Night is Dark from Street to Street is mildly noirish, though I'm sure she never meant it to be. She mainly wrote about families, parenting, relationships, and faith and prayer, often with humour.
Ramabai C. Trikannad, writer and poet, was inspired by the works of Agatha Christie, Peter Cheney and Erle Stanley Gardner, and P.G. Wodehouse. Some of her other favourite authors and poets were Shaw, Wilde, Keats, and Shelley. She loved the Classics. Together, they influenced most of her simple yet lucid writing published in 1940s and 1950s, in now defunct publications. I have them all—a treasured gift from her eldest son and my uncle.
The night is dark from street to street
I grope with my hands and feel with my feet
I think longingly of my house
Awhile the empty streets I roam.
A cosy fireside, a well earned rest
A wife — an angel of the best
All these I left in heedlessness
'tis too late now to make redress.
So on I trudge the weary track
It is no use now looking back
Ah! Who's there? A step behind me
A hazy form I dimly see.
I see it stealthily advance
I vow to fight and take my chance
"Hullo!" 'tis Swami, "How do you do?"
"I have run out of tobacco too!"
Step by step we walk very fast
The tobacco shop light gleams at last.
© Ramabai C. Trikannad
A couple of years ago, I reproduced two of my late grandmother's poems Love Ageth Not and How Long? Here is another, which, in my opinion, reveals a different side to her writing. The Night is Dark from Street to Street is mildly noirish, though I'm sure she never meant it to be. She mainly wrote about families, parenting, relationships, and faith and prayer, often with humour.
Ramabai C. Trikannad, writer and poet, was inspired by the works of Agatha Christie, Peter Cheney and Erle Stanley Gardner, and P.G. Wodehouse. Some of her other favourite authors and poets were Shaw, Wilde, Keats, and Shelley. She loved the Classics. Together, they influenced most of her simple yet lucid writing published in 1940s and 1950s, in now defunct publications. I have them all—a treasured gift from her eldest son and my uncle.
The night is dark from street to street
I grope with my hands and feel with my feet
I think longingly of my house
Awhile the empty streets I roam.
A cosy fireside, a well earned rest
A wife — an angel of the best
All these I left in heedlessness
'tis too late now to make redress.
So on I trudge the weary track
It is no use now looking back
Ah! Who's there? A step behind me
A hazy form I dimly see.
I see it stealthily advance
I vow to fight and take my chance
"Hullo!" 'tis Swami, "How do you do?"
"I have run out of tobacco too!"
Step by step we walk very fast
The tobacco shop light gleams at last.
© Ramabai C. Trikannad
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