Francisca Kujur, "Only Questions" (poem translated from Hindi)
On the road from Ranchi to Mandar,
I reached the border of Silagai.
Suddenly, the barando dhuka winds rose,
Suddenly, there were roars and rumbles—
I understood: this was the village of brave Budhu.
There sat a young man,
Sharpening a blunt axe.
“What has this village gained from Budhu’s name?” he asked.
An elder growled in reply:
“We never tire of telling his tales of valor.
He fought the British at Tikotand,
Drove the enemies across the Koel River.
We are proud to be born in Silagai.
Sharpen not only the axe,
Sharpen your dull mind too.”
Sparks flew in the air.
A flame of zeal lit the young man’s eyes.
On the road from Ranchi to Khunti lies Ulihatu,
Legacy of the martyr Birsa Munda.
Birsa’s name is etched in every leaf and branch.
The wind itself hums the song of Ulgulan (rebellion).
On Domabari Hill once beat the war drum of Ulgulan.
While herding cattle, Ramesh Munda said,
"Jharkhand was made in Birsa’s name—
Yet Ulihatu remains ignored in the name of progress."
On the road from Ranchi to Gumla—
In Lita Toli, village of Kartik Babu,
While plowing fields, Mangra Oraon said:
"Officers come measuring the land,
They say an engineering college will be built.
Our children will study like Kartik Babu.
But years have passed—
Our dreams are lost in these furrowed fields."
On the road from Gumla to Chainpur,
Is Jari—the village of Paramveer Albert Ekka.
Beyond the Shankh River, deep in the forest,
While handing out ropes, Juns Ekka said:
"No roads, no electricity, no bridges, no hospitals—
Will Albert Ekka’s village always remain like this?
Every day we wait,
When will progress finally reach us?
When will we, too, be part of development?"
I stood on a mountain of questions,
With no answers on my lips.
Then, from the alleyways, emerged a group of children—
On their way to school, seeking a new destination.
A ray of hope shone in their eyes,
A flood of words came to my lips:
These children will one day become
Budhu, Birsa, Kartik, and Albert.
They will read, write, rise.
They will understand the language of governance,
Understand exploitation and the exploiters,
Understand the struggles for water, forests, and land.
Then the sky, too, will turn red,
The trees and plants will wear red,
Even the river water will leap with joy,
The drum of Ulgulan will thunder again,
And these children will lead the way.
Watch closely—
That day will come soon.
That time will come soon!!
Published in Hindi in the Kavi Man Jani Man anthology
Translated from the Hindi with the help of ChatGPT