Those left behind
I
(On the margins)
Yesterday, I did it…
Paid the last rupee.
Getting it was harder than life
(And I could tell you
A thing or two about hard lives.)
From an acquaintance thrice removed
Not apt to let affection affect business.
The money was got at twenty paise to a rupee
Not yearly, no, we live and work for the day.
The interest pulls at me from every side
Drawing flesh for money by the pound
But when the sun came out to break my spirit
Money was only paper that bought
This hard-fought square, my fortress in the city.
But that was yesterday, frozen
Forgotten in shadows of today’s dawn.
In debris of big decisions that claimed
My small walled hole, not hand to outstretched hand
Kept this billion square city from growth.
So when the clouds gathered to beat fury on me
My fort was only rubble by the roadside,
With cheap tarp and plastic roof over broken dreams.
II
(Loved, betrayed)
This was my city once,
Small and content, ends
marked, named and set in stone.
Its heart known like mine own.
Now it grows to where I cannot see
And it seems there is no space for me.
Years ago, father fought
To buy his place in this world
Could he know the world would fight back?
Cut away its middle class slack?
Forsake men that were here first
To sate ambitious global thirst.
Could I have known that rootless progress
Would pave its highways over the
rubble of my brick and mortar home?
Shift from straight and narrow for commerce alone?
And steal from me my rightful fight
With help from elected, ruling might
And cast me obstructer, villain to progress’ plight
III
(Alien)
This city is not my home
It is not my lover, not my mother
Not friend.
No lover could hurt me as she has
Forget me except when I must give a hand
Give sweat and tears and my youth
So she can be younger, have a new face
And shine like a new bride.
And when I am done,
Throw me away because
She cannot bear this blot on her fair face
This ugly creature, all hands, no brains.
I came here with the hope of new love,
Because she welcomed me,
Promised sweet joy after the pain
And now I cannot leave
Because I have nowhere else to go
Staying, praying that one day she will remember again
The hope she gave to the little people
Instead of the riches she gave the big and powerful.
(On the margins)
Yesterday, I did it…
Paid the last rupee.
Getting it was harder than life
(And I could tell you
A thing or two about hard lives.)
From an acquaintance thrice removed
Not apt to let affection affect business.
The money was got at twenty paise to a rupee
Not yearly, no, we live and work for the day.
The interest pulls at me from every side
Drawing flesh for money by the pound
But when the sun came out to break my spirit
Money was only paper that bought
This hard-fought square, my fortress in the city.
But that was yesterday, frozen
Forgotten in shadows of today’s dawn.
In debris of big decisions that claimed
My small walled hole, not hand to outstretched hand
Kept this billion square city from growth.
So when the clouds gathered to beat fury on me
My fort was only rubble by the roadside,
With cheap tarp and plastic roof over broken dreams.
II
(Loved, betrayed)
This was my city once,
Small and content, ends
marked, named and set in stone.
Its heart known like mine own.
Now it grows to where I cannot see
And it seems there is no space for me.
Years ago, father fought
To buy his place in this world
Could he know the world would fight back?
Cut away its middle class slack?
Forsake men that were here first
To sate ambitious global thirst.
Could I have known that rootless progress
Would pave its highways over the
rubble of my brick and mortar home?
Shift from straight and narrow for commerce alone?
And steal from me my rightful fight
With help from elected, ruling might
And cast me obstructer, villain to progress’ plight
III
(Alien)
This city is not my home
It is not my lover, not my mother
Not friend.
No lover could hurt me as she has
Forget me except when I must give a hand
Give sweat and tears and my youth
So she can be younger, have a new face
And shine like a new bride.
And when I am done,
Throw me away because
She cannot bear this blot on her fair face
This ugly creature, all hands, no brains.
I came here with the hope of new love,
Because she welcomed me,
Promised sweet joy after the pain
And now I cannot leave
Because I have nowhere else to go
Staying, praying that one day she will remember again
The hope she gave to the little people
Instead of the riches she gave the big and powerful.
posted by RTP | 8:09 PM
9 Comments:
I feel like such a doofus for not getting that. Esp since I made it sound like I'm some sort of goddess that every man wants to lay. None the less since we were at some point of time in the same city, and I know more about you than you do about me (events have stretched but not broken my faith in six degrees of separation) I do feel my stalker fear is justified in however tiny a way.
About the post- There is something about it that doesn't quite flow right. But honestly poetry is not my business but since this space does say comment, I am taking my liberties.
Newspaper persona I know nothing about. Must have read a grand total of one of your features. Was actually talking more in terms of the six degrees of separation thing.
And I was not complaining. Having managed to glean a post after so long I dare not complain.
Excuses excuses. But sooner or later you will run out of them. Am looking forward to that day.
The steps you shall not know. I like my anonymity esp in the face of your not so anonymity. I'll just say this much, it's actually much lesser than 6 degrees. Hence my reluctance to give up the game.
Not pry !!! What a boring fizzle out to your curiosity. But negative psychology will not work on me either so will not tell. Am too scared that you may I repeat may recognise some of the people I write about. That will not be fun for them.
Wow! I'm impressed. I really really like part 2. sorry I haven't figured out roman numerals on the comp.
It is also because the reader (or at least I assume the majority of them) can identify with the middle class experience themselves.
Your curiosity I understand. I was too and was actually extremely surprised when I did discover the connection between us. But let me also be honest and stop hiding behind other people. Yes it is partly about them but it also is the fact that I am afraid of being judged by virtue of that very connection we have. I will not presume that you have heard about me but I know that if you want you probably could find out about me. I am afraid of how I might seem from that persons point of view (the one who could tell you about me). I feel that they might not have a very charitable description of me, obviously one that I would not want you to hear. If I have confused you enough I shall from now on leave this subject well alone. If in spite of this incoherent excuse for an excuse you still want to know I shall tell all.
Am glad you left a comment. You've disappeared for too long.
Hey I'm going to be in Blr for a while. If this doesn't sound too forward I would love to meet you.
oops just read your comment. I think something is wrong with my settings cos it didn't appear in my e-mail. Anyway you know all the places I love so you pick. I'll be there from the 28th to the 1st.
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