yesterday's is good enough

the memsahib has arrived,
hot, sweaty and sticky from
her forty-five minute workout.
the wetness of sweat has neatly
settled upon the even lumps
of prosperity,
even as prosperity strains from
the stretch of a
brand that screams fitness.

the table is set; spread in
delicate detail, awaiting
friends who will arrive
in shimmering georgettes, crepes
and muted gold.

in minutes she emerges, coiffed,
gleaming skin – the crows’ feet
hushed and muted for a few hours.

her friends and she
talk of how tiring it is
on the treadmill, of how
difficult it is to watch those
calories burn,
in between mouthfuls of
feta cheese, gouda, before
they wash them
down with wine.

five courses later,
the kitchen sink is full,
with half-eaten titbits,
discarded in haste,
when conversation turns
to those calories again.

tomorrow, memsahib will spend
and extra hour,
and come back hotter, and wetter with sweat.

but today, kamala must hurry.
she must finish her chores
quickly.
because today, kamala has a special treat.
her one meal of today's dhal and
today’s rice is
wrapped in a plastic grocery bag.
today’s rice is a treat, is it not,
for it is usually yesterday’s?

she is hungry, of course
but
the little ones at home
are waiting.
waiting
for today's dhal and
today’s rice.


Published in Muse India Journal - Jan-Feb 2012

this is a poem that started out as a short story. been in my head for years. put down sometime last year, i think. it's begging to become a short story. but somehow, the words have been evading me.

Retribution

Today,
I stand at the gates
Of wisdom,
Paying penance
For my forefathers’ sins.
Their sins of demarcating
Humankind into
The good, the bad and the ugly.

I stand everywhere,
Demarcated now,
Even though
I don’t care,
Never have,
About whom i sit with,
Or where i eat,
Of who my friends are,
Or where they come from.

And still,
I cringe when they say that word.
Apologetic for an
Inheritance that forsakes me
And sends me to foreign shores
To make a future,
Because i have none here.

In the end,
Karma always catches up.
It always catches up.




as long as we speak of caste, reservation, upliftment of different sects, there will always be a section that is demarcated. when will we begin to think of humanity as a whole? as one where everyone lives the way he works and is good at? ah! poetry and idealism.