LANKA SIVA RAMA PRASAD
Dr. LANKA SIVA RAMA PRASAD ( Dr. LSr Prasad) is a Cardio Thoracic and Vascular Surgeon by profession, a popular author of 120 books, cartoonist, painter, critic, Editor and orator par excellence. His knowledge in Telugu and English earned him name. He has translated Homer’s Iliad, Odyssey first time in to Telugu Literature. In that series of Greek literature- Epic cycle and Greek Heroes came as the third book. His other notable translations in to Telugu are John Milton’s Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained; John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress; Virgil’s Aeneid; Dante’s Divine Comedy. Goethe’s Faust. Rumi’s Masnavi; Attar’s – Birds conference; Omar Khayyam’s- Rubaiyat. He was assigned the job of translating selected classic poems of Telugu literature by C.P. Brown’s Acadamywhich was published as Telugu songs and poems. Katthianchu pai– is a collection of noir genre stories. More than ten translations of contemporary poets, two novels, twenty short stories, hundreds of essays and prefaces, books on science and Medicine and dream analysis are available. Now his published books have crossed the prestigious hundred land-marks and reached 120. Most of his books are reference books in literature. His poems were translated into Greek, Spanish, Arabic, Hindi, Tamil, Kannada and many other languages.
LANKA SIVA RAMA PRASAD
The Surgical Patient At 2 A.M.
The Intensive cardiac care unit is like a scare unit of a spaceship,
White coats, nurse angels, paramedics running with a code slip,
The monitor’s lifeline is at frenzy curve with fibrillatorybeat trip,
A few shocks delivered to the heart and intubation with some drug drip!
By the time blinking lights and buzzing alarms became calm,
The emergency warrior staff breathed a sigh and smiled warm!
The heart surgeon on duty was ready with his crew to face the storm,
The captain of cardiology passed on the patient to the bypass charm!
‘Surgery is an art’- cried the heart surgeon and his assistant nodded his head,
At two in the morning we do our plumbing here, here and there we go ahead,
Three vessel block! May need four or five bypasses, keep more blood, plasma and
Platelets and what not. Keep balloon ready if pressure fallsthings must be near hand!’-
The anesthetic work station is busy with monitors and ventilator hiss!
On the patient the white light shone golden with betadinescrub kiss,
Venous conduits are taken from the legs with feverish speed by the assistant,
The surgeon opened the chest and found the heart morose in pericardial tent!
Quick! Quick! He cautioned his assistants! Let us try beating heart bypass!
O lad! Look at this LAD! The widow’s artery is in drought, it hates time pass!
O boy! This gentle heart is irritable! O Shock it! Shock! OK! Let’s go on pump!
Tubes from major vessels went to heart-lung machine and it started with a thump!
A strong potassium concoction made hear quiescent and soft with no beat,
The soul left through one of the nine holes of the body flute in search of heat,
Or light. I have not seen it, i was busy in stitching vein to artery, we call it bypass!
My assistants were busy with fibrillators, mist blowers, instruments fine and class!
It is a bloody mess! Bleeding, bleeding everywhere! Same story at two A.M.!
It is a human garden I have to do with the fountain, blood and tubes with fine aim!
Oozing their jammy substances a matter of fat! My assistants hook them back.
Stitches and colors assail me. The smoker patient’s lung-tree gone pink to black!
These heart vessels are splendid. They cry and coil like snakes causing angina,
The heart is a red ball-bloom, in distress it leads to gloom like a cloud covered luna!
The blood is a sunset. I admire it. I am up to my wrists in it, red and squeezing.
Still it sweeps me up, it is not exhausted.
So magical! A hot spring freezing!
I must seal off and let fill the intricate, blue piping over this pale marble.
The heart started beating with new arrival of blood that flooded its cable!
The body is an ancient sculpture that shut its heart on the fat pills and anxiety hills,
I have perfected its repairing and after the last stitch we all enjoyed that night thrills!
Tomorrow the patient will have a clean cheerful morning and less pain!
We thanked the Almighty for giving us a chance to help the patient in strain!
Over a few beds in the ward, small blue lights announcesnew souls to refine.
The beds are blue. Today, for them blue is a beautiful color. The angels of morphine
Have borne them up. They float an inch from the ceiling, spelling souls divine.
I walk among sleepers in the halls of Valhalla with Valkyries among meadows.
The red night lights are crescent moons. They are dull with blood. I am the surgeon,
in my white coat n grave face, shuttered by etiquette, shades follow me like shadows.
Don’t Steal My Streets!
I saw you on that day feeding stray cats, i thought, but they are memories,
I asked you a loan of few smiles, and you gave me the whole treasuries!
I painted my tears of joy with your delicate whisperings, iscripted stories,
I saved the hurts and wounds of life in the depths of my eyes in all vagaries!
Come! Those are the windows you peeped into my life’s clouds and rainbows,
Leave me the fragrance of your visits and let me be immersed as the light glows,
The immense hole you left in my heart every moment it grows and grows,
i have no doors to close the gaps and thread to stitch the shadows in rows!
In these gardens of love we wandered with butterflies and honeybees,
In these waves of breeze we left our foot prints of time on wild geese,
In these petals of rose, lilies and orchids we left the imprints of our kisses,
In these groves of palm, banana and mango we had our hits and misses!
Now you wish to go away to a city far beyond compass measures!
Don’t steal my streets, o dear that sheltered our immense tears treasures!
Why Did You Walk On My Heart?
Why did those lovely eyes of ancient type
Stalk upon my memory lanes in skype:
And why your holy lamp of Love pristine,
Shine on my pastures in heart’s hype?
And your Countenance Divine thrills,
Hence forth upon my faded hope hills!
And was my love mahal builded here,
Among these longing tears of cry shrills!
Bring back my brow of simmering desire;
Bring back my sorrows of affection fire:
Bring me my fear: all the secrets untold!
Bring me my scars of resplendent affair!
I will not cease from haunting your night,
Nor shall my words sleep in my pen light :
Till we have built our dream home,
In our enchanting Land that shines bright!
Copyright@Dr. Lsr prasad