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Prathibha Nandakumar

OH, THEY WERE TENDER, GREEN, LEAFY AND RAW

OH, THEY WERE TENDER, GREEN, LEAFY AND RAW

                  Remembering can be the means of salvation
                (A.K. Ramanujan)




1. The salad days

Oh, they were tender, green, leafy and raw.
Fresh cut, as in the breaking in of a colt
Wild, as in first flight of a nameless bird
floating about the narrow dark alleys
searching for a parking spot to
land and indulge in some peeling, slicing and
sucking of juices with matching exclamations.
Everything got soaked and sprouted.
They were the days of talking and taking.


2. The fasting days

Everything resembled a dish.
Denial was the mantra.
Do not, the anthem.
Pangs hit diaphragm.
Aching heart, intestines and mouth drying,
To chew was a curse, to swallow a punishment.
Hungry forever, thirsty every minute,
Vastness taking over dilated pupils,    
To fast was to preserve.
To consume was to serve.
We were on diet and we meant to quiet
the heart,  the intestine, lungs, legs and
the unmentionables in anticipation of
the next feast.


3. The Dessert days

And then, there was pudding
of all sorts.
Creams, cakes, nuts, fruits,
Exotic, ethnic sweets.
It was time to indulge.
How many poems make a day?
How many dreams make an hour?
How does the metaphor bird build nests on railings?
Who needs to sanction these constructions?
They were days of extravaganza and
A phone call away, a filling pizza.

  
4. Salvation

And it happened one day.
It was getting crowded and they left
one by one and the last one stood naked
not knowing his elusive multiple beings
had engulfed his many different emotions.
In one single day, he, the prince, turned
into a frog and  lost his every appetite.

If to remember is to find salvation
To forget is to be cursed to return to life.
Prathibha Nandakumar

Prathibha Nandakumar

(India, 1955)

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OH, THEY WERE TENDER, GREEN, LEAFY AND RAW

                  Remembering can be the means of salvation
                (A.K. Ramanujan)




1. The salad days

Oh, they were tender, green, leafy and raw.
Fresh cut, as in the breaking in of a colt
Wild, as in first flight of a nameless bird
floating about the narrow dark alleys
searching for a parking spot to
land and indulge in some peeling, slicing and
sucking of juices with matching exclamations.
Everything got soaked and sprouted.
They were the days of talking and taking.


2. The fasting days

Everything resembled a dish.
Denial was the mantra.
Do not, the anthem.
Pangs hit diaphragm.
Aching heart, intestines and mouth drying,
To chew was a curse, to swallow a punishment.
Hungry forever, thirsty every minute,
Vastness taking over dilated pupils,    
To fast was to preserve.
To consume was to serve.
We were on diet and we meant to quiet
the heart,  the intestine, lungs, legs and
the unmentionables in anticipation of
the next feast.


3. The Dessert days

And then, there was pudding
of all sorts.
Creams, cakes, nuts, fruits,
Exotic, ethnic sweets.
It was time to indulge.
How many poems make a day?
How many dreams make an hour?
How does the metaphor bird build nests on railings?
Who needs to sanction these constructions?
They were days of extravaganza and
A phone call away, a filling pizza.

  
4. Salvation

And it happened one day.
It was getting crowded and they left
one by one and the last one stood naked
not knowing his elusive multiple beings
had engulfed his many different emotions.
In one single day, he, the prince, turned
into a frog and  lost his every appetite.

If to remember is to find salvation
To forget is to be cursed to return to life.

OH, THEY WERE TENDER, GREEN, LEAFY AND RAW

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