Kavi Yakoob Profile

Yakoob is a well-known name in the world of Telugu letters. A College teacher by profession, he is a poet, researcher, writer and singer by choice and natural propensities. 

Born in a remote village, Rottamaku Revu in the district of Khammam, Andhra Pradesh, Yakoob did his schooling and undergraduate studies in Khammam district before moving to Hyderabad to pursue his higher education. He completed his Master’s degree in Telugu from Osmania University in 1987 and went on to do his M.Phil and Ph.D subsequently.

During his college days Yakoob as a student activist lent expression to his anguish, angst, frustration, feelings and emotions through the medium of poetry and soon became a popular poet on the Telugu literary scene. Yakoob’s early poems go back to 1985 and his first anthology, “pravahinche gnaapakam” published in 1992, earned widespread accolades and has already gone through two reprints.

His next collection of poems, “sarihaddu rekha”, comprising more than a hundred poems was published in 2002. According to the reputed editor and critic, Gudipati, “Yakoob’s individualism and uniqueness came to be firmly established with “sarihaddu rekha”. Incidentally, this anthology was released by Gnanakootan, the eminent Tamil poet and was chosen as the topic for a Ph.D dissertation by a research scholar of Sri Venkateswara University.

In the year 2009, the publication of Yakoob’s next anthology, “yedategani prayaanam”  marked another milestone in his literary career. In the year 2014, another Poetry anthology 'Nadeemoolam laanti aa yillu' got released.

Yakoob’s early poems were translated into English and published under the title “Arc of Unrest” in the year 2000. At a memorable function, the book was released by Dr. K. Satchidanandan, former Secretary of Central Sahitya Akademi.

Yakoob has edited twelve books and has authored eight books to his credit, of which four are anthologies of his verses, while the others fall under the domain of literary criticism. Yakoob’s poems have been translated in Hindi, English, Malayalam, Tamil and Kannada. Yakoob has been the recipient of several awards and honors over the years.

Currently, he an Associate Professor and Head of the Department of Telugu, Anwarul Uloom (Autonomous) College in Hyderabad.

LET US SPEAK OUT..!

February 15, 2012 at 6:54pm

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Yes,
let us speak out:
desire to speak out itself a remarkable revelation!.
Fact and fiction in speech
no longer differentiable.



In fact,
What is compassion, or crookedness,
What is good or bad
no longer discernable!


Let us speak out
amidst words
that are like a sweet smile
acquired on vowing life;
that are like the unmolested raindrop,
that are like mother’s affectionate kiss!


Unfettering the shackled words
Let us speak out freely!


Yes, this is the time to speak out-
awaited this moment all these years avidly;
not for me alone
but, for all of us, this is the movement!
Time to dismantle demarcations,
Come dear
Let us speak out freely!

[ Translated from Telugu by T.  S.  Chandra Mouli & B.  B.  Sarojini from
 the volume Sarihaddu Rekha (2002), poem titled Maatlladudaam (P.43)  ]

You and Me

February 28, 2012 at 11:01am

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I wish  to speak my words
Someone whispers them..!

                     On my way home
                     Her thought suddenly strikes me

                     At the gate…..
                    She awaits me like a letter..!

I try to shed my last tears
A rain drop on the cheek
Like her touch.!

                        I reach out for flowers

                       The chords within,
                       Like the invisible fragrance,
                       Fasten me..!

While walking
I stop and look back
As If called

….the lone dark shore..!

                  Transformed into air
                  I explore the sky

                  Earth, with a broad smile,
                  Awaits me..!

 ***
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       
 English: K.S.P. Roy

Arc of Unrest

March 1, 2012 at 1:27pm

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These tears have a language,
My unrest  a script and
My oceanic upsurge
Roaring tides

Agony in the thought
Freezing at every step

I watch you break into pieces
In the battle field

Not even a single drop
Found in the time dissected

Impatience multiplied
At every passing step

The fist still clenched
And the last look oceanised.

*
No regrets
No words to sooth you

Can I war against this unrest ?
Can I burst like a flame ?

Let me swear on this rain drop
I shall trace my scrambled path
I shall shoulder this ocean
I shall bang the silence
On this tumbled wall

Yes…it is me
Stepping on this dark continent
Like dawn..!!
 ***
Telugu:  Asaanthi Rekhammeenchi
 English:K.S.P.Roy

Once Again

March 20, 2012 at 12:14pm

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Body …
Running out in tides
Carrying the stray traces of grief
To the shore

Man…
Perhaps the ever-pouring rain

The callow foetus
Roaming between nights and days

We..
Men awaiting men

Only distance approaches
Bodies snake along

No space to stand
No syllable to say

Everything changing
At every instance

Darkness
Haunting the man for ever

Silence...every where…!
Silence along greets us
And moves off

Dull, disarrayed bodies
Chatting like
Gleeful waves of the sea
Playing on and off the shore

Darkness blooms not
Nor the body remains


No voice
No silence


Yet
Man sprouting
From the seeds of pain..!

                                                                                                Telugu: Avunnu mallee
                                                                                                     English :K.S.P.ROY

Only one Life…

September 19, 2012 at 12:44pm

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You have but only one life…
whether you are glad or gloomy;
win or vanquished;
rejoice or repent;
There is but just one life!
.
Within its scope,
desires pile up like tamarind sprigs
words course through the pathways to reach papers;
the slumbering letters
lie drowsing on the finger tips dreaming of wakening
and the enduring yearning of bodies
swims across the night with aching feet.
.
There is some consolation and some consternation;
.
Some instances and some intentions
beam and blow out like the hands of a clock
*
Would anybody ask about your wellbeing?
Would they bless you with something?
What more anyone would?
What else can anybody ask beyond this,
than asking, and cleansing themselves?
For that matter, what can anybody give?
*
There is but one life that won’t re-start,
and for sure, there is never a second stint.


Translation ~ Nauduri Murthy

The Run Within…

October 10, 2013 at 2:40pm

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Did I forget something back home?

Did I lock the door properly?
Did I put off the geyser and put the milk bowl back in the frig?
Oh, damn it!
The three kittens might make a hell by the time I come home.
Well, maybe the tommy might not allow barking at them
And might even chase them away towards the gate.
But sometimes it sleeps like a log.
Btw did I logout from the laptop or
Left the FB open as it is?

Oh, bloody traffic and bloody traffic signals!
Caught in the jam as usual and resent it as usual.
A vacuous feeling if I didn’t resent.
There are only twelve minutes left for office.
Can I reach office in time?
Can I sign in on time?
Awful signal! How long shall I have to vent my anger
On these traffic signals?

*
Poetic diction has changed;the metaphors have changed.
In the confused and confounded life …
The scars of wounds from the run within lay scattered around.
There are traces of my bloodIn the flood swelling … breeching the roads.
Like the teething pain of stiff joints…

There are no dialogues between people.
There aren’t any more conversations.
All talk turns out to a rant of credits and debits;
About the life that exists between two pay packets ;
And reduces to a veritable P&L Statement
With its bills payable, liabilities, and net losses.

Occasionally, some books and few people
Like paintings on heart’s canvas
Lend their colour to our lives.

The dream of Sunday recurs for the rest of the six days.
A life… Sans traffic, sans locks, sans run…
A blank serene dreamless dream.
.
Translated by Nauduri Murthy