Now Reading
Twenty-One Rules – A Translation of Ekushe Ain

Twenty-One Rules – A Translation of Ekushe Ain

Avatar photo
Twenty One Rules

A whimsical and humorous English translation of Sukumar Ray’s “Ekushe Ain” from Abol Tabol, featuring absurd laws and amusing penalties that reflect the poet’s playful take on the absurdities of authority and tradition.

Ah, let’s be honest, there’s probably not a single Bengali who doesn’t have a soft spot for Abol Tabol, the marvellous creation by Sukumar Ray. And, of course, I’m no exception. Amongst all his gems, one of my personal favourites has to be ‘Ekushe Ain’. The other day, as I sat there once more, flipping through its pages and grinning like a Cheshire cat, I had a thought. Why not have a go at writing my own version in English—the language, after all, with which we colonial lot share a bit of a love-hate affair, don’t we? So here it is …

Twenty-One Rules (A translation of Sukumar Ray’s Ekushe Ain from Abol Tabol).

In Lord Shiva’s home country,

The insane laws could bring about your catastrophe.

If anyone ever slips by accident,

Constables arrest him in an instant.

He is produced before a judge quickly,

And is fined twenty-one rupees swifty.

If anywhere you get the urge to sneeze before six in the evening,

You must produce a sneeze-ticket before beginning.

Because if the KOTWAL catches you sneezing ticketless before six,

He will bash your back hard enough and leave you transfixed.

He will snuff up your nose from a snuff box,

And force you to sneeze twenty-one times,

Leaving a quite an olfactory efflux.

If you have a loose tooth or chattering teeth,

Four rupees is the fine indeed.

If you ever grow a moustache,

Cent percent is the tax attached,

And twenty-one salutes with both hands folded,

Is the minimum apology expected.

If you stray off-course while on roads,

The King is informed at once,

Who sends his platoons in pursuit.

And they grab you and treat you in the afternoon heat,

With water but in twenty-one-fold excess than your need.

See Also
Dimbeswar Neog

Those who compose poems are caught and caged.

One hundred Orrisans are supposedly assigned,

To read out aloud to him,

Multiplication tables in many weird sounding hymns.

And while still in the cage,

The poet is further tasked with maintaining accounts of a kirana store,

Twenty-one pages long is the arithmetic chore.

Snoring while sleeping in day or night is an unacceptable blunder.

Severe punishment is inflicted upon the offender,

By smothering his head with a mix of cow dung and bilva glue,

The offender is hung from a tree and spun twenty-one times,

The poor soul is kept suspended at a stretch twenty-one hours fulltime.

What's Your Reaction?
Excited
5
Happy
2
In Love
0
Not Sure
0
Silly
0
View Comments (0)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


Scroll To Top