Archives / October 2018

GEETHA RAVINDRAN
ON THE DAY OF LANDSLIDE










He came jetting over the
turbulent ocean waves
disembarked on his past
before his memoirs would
dry and disappear...

The truth and deceits of
an uncertain moment
began to whirl around him...

As if
from under the stone-heaps of
a level-slid heart
a shrilled scream fondled him
"Oh! My boy..."

In order to drown
with the streams of rains,
carrying the made up paper boats
“Look, your Bro is ready..."
while clapping and shrieking,
he kept frisking for his younger sis
who played hide and seek...

Grandma's seisms
clutching the teeth
pointing to the rain fevers
"The spirits will run on you"
are lashing with skinny rods...

"The Karkkidakam has come near
the fields are filled..."
Cutting straight,
the routes of concerns
the father- spade
annoyed and shuddered...

"Ho! Everything lost...!
Are we to reap the chaff?”
The paddy field as a whole
swayed and staggered down
benumbed and blacked out...

The ‘Mailanjchi’ adorned
palms of a would-be bride
in visual gestures
wept unsuppressed
“It isn't me destined to you"...

The kid's plays of
the generations to be born
through him
did hook certain muddy layers
and there, in some valley trapped
they shout ..." Hidden, are we ......,
Find us..."

He now hastens to migrate
into a continent
where his birth identity is forfeited
shouldering all the memory-exhibits...
realizing fully well
he is the only seed dried up
and preserved for a family tree
out of emptiness...

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