Kishori Maganlal Chaurasi

A Poem by roma20

The poem is based in the 1975 Emergency Period of India.

Kishori Maganlal Chaurasi swayed,
Heel to toe, in the curdling shade,
He strode when the sun crawled,

A milkman's can,
A c**k,
An empty school hall,

A right here, a left ahead,
Clutching his tumbler and a fumbling wake,
The empty mudpath swung a bait,
A rolling gallop, stub of a race,
The fire in his belly clomped and neighed,

A hop,
A crunch,
A leafy shade,

Kishori Maganlal Chaurasi the Great,
For long, hadn't he held the gate?
Not for the gods, nor their graves,
But for the glorious release under a holy tree,
A cleansing of excesses,
last night's feast,

A hop,
A crunch,
A leafy shade,

Khadi smells of sweat and tar,
Looking down at his faded scar,
Open cheeked, shut thighs,
Kishori Maganlal Chaurasi stayed,
His bowels emptied midway.

Shuffling feet,
Trail in the leaves,
A door,

'Dakhtar, I was done a month ago'
Doctor Deaf deftly downed his dhoti,
Laid a little shroud on his Goti,
Snip, snap, now shut your trap,
I have a quota to get at,
A lovely day, not a bad pay,

A prayer,
A whimper.
None to hear.

Ice!

Press this right here,
Now give it back, supply is tight,
'Dakhtar, there was pain last time.'
Pissing? No. Pissing is fine,
no lifting, no tilling soil,
'Dakhtar, but..'
Shush, here is your can of oil.

Next!

© 2020 roma20

Author's Note

The Emergency period in India was a time of turmoil, a debilitating blow to its democracy which it survived, scars bared. Here I write about the mass sterilization program carried out under the Government rule.

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Reviews

Fabian G. Franklin

You truly have a poet's heart. You deliver strong images and though, I confess previous ignorance of the subject matter, I still enjoyed the reading. It's gritty and gutsy as a bulldog with a bone. And it gives empathy to this plight in a defensive posture. Sad to read and understand but brilliantly delivered by the author.