Tuesday, December 29, 2009

The drummer

A man
With no special talent
Loves to drum his ancestral drum

He drums all the time
Always, he is drumming

While breathing
While eating
While sweeping the streets
With a broom
While sleeping
While dreaming (which he rarely does)

He drums
His ancient drum

One day
Under the full moon
He bathes
He sees a pretty girl with mogra in her pig-tails
He falls in love
She is everything

Their eyes meet
Till the meetings multiply

She can't drum
Man trains her
He tries
She tries
And tries
And cries

One day she runs away
From his drum beats
It is too noisy
Her parents say: it tarnishes the family reputation
Her neighbours say: it is diabolical

Man is distraught
He sits beside the river
He sweeps
He weeps

He decides to forsake his drum
He throws the ancestral drum into the river

Life plods on

A new day
Many months
Perhaps years

Man is lonely
Very very lonely
He is old
Very very old
He has swept the street
He is tired
Very very tired

He sits on the bank
To wash his feet in the river water
He sees a fish
Many many fishes

The fishes see him
One smiles
All smile
He plays with one, he plays with all
He is happy
His heart beats

Is it really his heart beat?

It's a drum beat
It's many drums that beat
The drums beat, together

The man looks

The fishes are drumming
The fishes are dancing
The fishes invite him
He jumps into the water

And drums happily ever after

Three shorts

When my mother
Went to school
She was the only girl student

Mother carried her books, slate, drinking water
Plus her own jute sack
With which she could sit on the cold floor
With dignity

Was the richest man
In the world
And he was very very happy

So happy
That he had forgotten
How to cry

The baby wiped her mouth
And hungrily asked her mother
Why does daddy have nipples
If I cannot suckle milk from them