APPROACH



On my way back from inside
I saw this road falling away
Its pathetic effort to skirt the hill
Yet on its way to town
I'm sure it will win

Just as the river does
Just like the 'traveler tree'
Above the wayside
Above the weeds
Above you and me
Grass flowers protest
 Extolling the bee
The clouds know
When to come low
The Ice- Maiden knows
When to shriek her crescendo
In tune
Always in tune
Let not the slum-boys
Hurt our sensibilities so
We are the bravest trekkers
We are the trackers of society
Gone are the days
When we had to rummage through garbage-bins

Now we specialize in cess-pools of sweat
And Donna Karan seeping into diamond pores
We have developed fusion sores
And 'executive health checks'
For Mirza Ghalib
Robindronath  fits in just well
With the corns on my executive feet
Joutho Sangeet
What crap when we can't 'Joutho' eat
Where are we escaping with beads of sweat
Malnutritioned in the autumn wet
Swelling bellies and rickety legs
In obesciance at the goddess' feet
With candles and drums
And incense intense
That hides the vastness of our crime
Let us go up in smoke
To the accompaniment
Of hired Security

The drummers drum
Accompanying
A small boy beats his bronzed plate
In perfect beat
No monitors no reverb for his rhyme
Just food and some filthy room
Away from his village
Away from his mother's breast
But he has seen the country now
He is corrupt
His river his mango tree
Will let him be

There is this competition
To take the 'silence vow'
I will talk anyhow
Do I have the courage to even see
This lake amidst my meadows
Shadows haunt my afternoon dreams
Rigmaroles of a goddess's face
Intertwined
Either with an afterlife
Or Victorian lace
From grandmother
In Convent Row
The Tower of Silence
In the afterglow

~ Ashok Niyogi ~

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