Tuesday 22 October 2019
I wish
I wish it rains tonight
ruining the perfection
of a sky ,star lit and bright
Bring on precipitation
ruining the perfection
of a sky ,star lit and bright
Bring on precipitation
to cloak the earth in mist
hold it in chill’s tight fist
The streets clog
with night fog
hold it in chill’s tight fist
The streets clog
with night fog
The school shut down
and we pad around
in our night gown
from dusk to dawn
and we pad around
in our night gown
from dusk to dawn
The gullies fill with slush
In rainwater flush
On TV they showed
other cities flood
Why, unfairly parched
is my land scorched
Burnt to a crisp
Every grass blade
Let life arise from the ashes
foliage shoot from marshes
Friday 4 October 2019
The room
He showed me the room on my way .
"This is the one we will be shifting to , today " , he gushed .
I had my doubts though . The windows were taped shut . There was a pile of broken furniture piled outside in the balcony . Two enormous terracotta feeding bowls lay outside , a pool of dirty rainwater at the bottom , moss swimming on the surface.
The walls were rain streaked .An air conditioner shaped hole remained on the wall, ill covered by a thin piece of flaky plywood , curling on the edges. The worst sight was upholstery torn off from sofa ,ostensibly ,by powerful canine jaws .
After breakfast , I was given a group of boys armed with mops and brooms and we set off in the direction of the room .
The room was dank , musty and smelt of dogs . It did not smell at all of a certain petite female who was supposed to have lived there.
The sight that greeted us inside the room was far worse . One entire wall , in the prevalent , though inexplicable , trend of the times , was painted blood red . Constant rainwater collection on the roof had caused blood coloured seepage splotches , revealing the white underneath. Every square inch of the floor was dug up , viciously , again , a canine souvenir. It felt like standing on a small patch of desert with cupboards and beds for comfort . There were no signs of a human having lived there.
All wooden furniture also bore claw marks speaking of the vicious beasts enclosed within the walls. The solitary tap in the bathroom leaked , drops dripping every two seconds.
Boys entered and made a valiant attempt , swiping at cobwebby corners with their brooms and wrestling with the tap.
I came out and stood in the sun .
"Yo, mate ! " Someone broke my reverie . A sunny chirpy female voice .I turned back to see her walking on the road , wearing a teeny skirt and an enormous pair of sunglasses , being tugged by two snarling german shepherds lunging towards me .
"Oh I see! You are getting my old room . Bubbles and coochie coo loved this room !! Didn't you boys ?"
The" boys" dribbled saliva from their bared fangs on the grass.
"They want their feeding bowls back , I will send someone . By the way , you must see my new accomodation . "
She pulled her "boys" away with superhuman strength , laughing away to herself .
"This is the one we will be shifting to , today " , he gushed .
I had my doubts though . The windows were taped shut . There was a pile of broken furniture piled outside in the balcony . Two enormous terracotta feeding bowls lay outside , a pool of dirty rainwater at the bottom , moss swimming on the surface.
The walls were rain streaked .An air conditioner shaped hole remained on the wall, ill covered by a thin piece of flaky plywood , curling on the edges. The worst sight was upholstery torn off from sofa ,ostensibly ,by powerful canine jaws .
After breakfast , I was given a group of boys armed with mops and brooms and we set off in the direction of the room .
The room was dank , musty and smelt of dogs . It did not smell at all of a certain petite female who was supposed to have lived there.
The sight that greeted us inside the room was far worse . One entire wall , in the prevalent , though inexplicable , trend of the times , was painted blood red . Constant rainwater collection on the roof had caused blood coloured seepage splotches , revealing the white underneath. Every square inch of the floor was dug up , viciously , again , a canine souvenir. It felt like standing on a small patch of desert with cupboards and beds for comfort . There were no signs of a human having lived there.
All wooden furniture also bore claw marks speaking of the vicious beasts enclosed within the walls. The solitary tap in the bathroom leaked , drops dripping every two seconds.
Boys entered and made a valiant attempt , swiping at cobwebby corners with their brooms and wrestling with the tap.
I came out and stood in the sun .
"Yo, mate ! " Someone broke my reverie . A sunny chirpy female voice .I turned back to see her walking on the road , wearing a teeny skirt and an enormous pair of sunglasses , being tugged by two snarling german shepherds lunging towards me .
"Oh I see! You are getting my old room . Bubbles and coochie coo loved this room !! Didn't you boys ?"
The" boys" dribbled saliva from their bared fangs on the grass.
"They want their feeding bowls back , I will send someone . By the way , you must see my new accomodation . "
She pulled her "boys" away with superhuman strength , laughing away to herself .
Thursday 3 October 2019
Patriotism
“Patriotism”, No sahib , I don’t know what that means .”
I ask around , mike in hand , feeling very foolish . The Hindi translation too , doesn’t seem to make any sense .
But I am asking the home makers , slaving away every breath . Cooking , cleaning , wiping runny noses , laying out the roof , threshing , winnowing , bringing the crop in .
There is a group of village elders , sitting on a charpoy , smoking the hookah , surrounded by a group of village louts . Quite uncharacteristically , the louts slink away at my approach . The elders give me the silent treatment , become shifty eyed , and look away . Someone clears his throat noisily , but still doesn’t answer me .
I get my answer later that day when I enter some of the huts . There , framed prominently , on the mud wall , is the photograph of a soldier , a garland hanging desultorily, vermillion tilak on the glass , and a soot emitting solitary ghee lamp burning underneath. Making the dimly lit interiors, gloomier .
Almost every house has their resident martyr . This village has given its best sons to the nation , what was I thinking ?
I ask around , mike in hand , feeling very foolish . The Hindi translation too , doesn’t seem to make any sense .
But I am asking the home makers , slaving away every breath . Cooking , cleaning , wiping runny noses , laying out the roof , threshing , winnowing , bringing the crop in .
There is a group of village elders , sitting on a charpoy , smoking the hookah , surrounded by a group of village louts . Quite uncharacteristically , the louts slink away at my approach . The elders give me the silent treatment , become shifty eyed , and look away . Someone clears his throat noisily , but still doesn’t answer me .
I get my answer later that day when I enter some of the huts . There , framed prominently , on the mud wall , is the photograph of a soldier , a garland hanging desultorily, vermillion tilak on the glass , and a soot emitting solitary ghee lamp burning underneath. Making the dimly lit interiors, gloomier .
Almost every house has their resident martyr . This village has given its best sons to the nation , what was I thinking ?
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The boss swept in , holding a packet of streamers in her right hand , aloft ,like a torch . Statue of liberty . A very pissed off statue . Bathed , perfumed, in a cloud of aromatic efficiency .
“I thought the meet was tomorrow.” Anu wasn’t going to let go an opportunity at self-flagellation .
“Sadist!!” hissed Sujata , seated at her desk.
“No, masochist”, corrected Ashok , “self- hate” explained Murthy.
Sujata rolled her eyes . She always rolled her eyes .
“Yes Ma’am ?” Eager -to -please Anu .
“Here , hold these .” Boss handed her over the files , streamers , buntings , all that had adorned her , hitherto.
Anu disappeared under all the streamers , with gratitude. Boss, freed from all that paraphernalia , swept her mascaraed eyes over the entire floor.
Everyone else pretended to be busy , very busy . Clickety clack , went everyone’s keyboards .
“Okay!! Everyone , listen up !! Did anyone “Think” That the meet was tomorrow . ” The boss meant Anu , and Anu flushed .
The white buntings turned pink with her shame .
There was a moment of silence . The type at funerals , for the departed soul , etc etc .
“The meet is TODAY” , The boss thundered , and everyone , on cue , jumped to their feet .
Everyone bustled around .