Enchantress Lanka Read online

  MONSOON HAPPENS

  Drip drip drip…

  Water seeps in

  Trickles down

  Leaks back out

  Drip drip drip…

  Water leaps in

  Creeps through

  Drops further down

  Drip drip drip…

  From one second to the other

  The clouds’ jaws open in unison

  And the sky vomits rain

  There’s a hole in the sky bucket

  And the result is heavy rain

  The heavenly shower was turned on

  And you’re washed by rain

  Monsoon happens

  From one second to the other

  Drip drip drip…

  Water rushes in

  Pools around you

  Is wiped back out

  Drip drip drip…

  Water gushes in

  Soaks everything

  Escapes back out

  Drip drip drip…

  From one second to the other

  The sky starts to weep uncontrollably

  And we mourn the rain

  The clouds all sob continuously

  And the sun turns to rain

  The storm joins in on the crying session

  And wind thrashes the rain

  Monsoon happens

  From one second to the other

  Drip drip drip…

  Water sloshes in

  Drenches everything

  Dribbles further down

  Drip drip drip…

  Water splashes in

  Bathes everybody

  Flows back out

  Drip drip drip…

  From one second to the other

  Holes in roof and ceiling are discovered

  When they let in the rain

  Tarpaulins are drawn over three-wheelers

  But don’t keep out the rain

  Umbrellas are opened, sarees are lifted

  No help at all against the rain

  Monsoon happens

  From one second to the other

  Drip drip drip…

  IN THE AFTERNOON

  Lying spread-eagled flat on your back

  On a scratchy coconut-fibre-mattress bed

  Naked but for a film of afternoon sweat

  Desperate to catch some of the wafting air

  Which the ceiling fan releases only fitfully

  Rotating squeakily in the overall dampness

  Beads of perspiration adorn you like jewels

  A treacle-like trickle over slippery skin

  A single drop crawling over cheek and chin

  Dripping slowly down into our cleavage

  Like the moist tongue-tip of a tender lover

  Idly your mind wanders and then wonders

  Whether to have the third shower of the day

  But getting up is too much of an effort

  When the afternoon heat invites sluggishness

  You catch a sweat pearl with your tongue

  Taste saltiness and think of the vast ocean

  Longing for a soothing sea breeze to build up

  To make the half dried-up palm fronds

  Click and rasp against slender coconut trunks

  To bring with it the typical afternoon smells

  Of sweet frangipani flowers and arid earth

  To flutter the curtains and enter the room

  By squeezing past the iron window grills

  To do what the languid fan can’t anymore

  And rip into the fabric of sultry inside air

  To scatter the heat and ruffle your hair

  Creating a delicious illusion of coolness

  By refreshing you in your half slumber

  But no, you’re too far from the sea here

  To profit from its blissful tangy breeze

  So there’s no escaping the afternoon heat

  Even life outside seems to be inert now

  Leaves drooping listlessly from dry stems

  Crows screeching in protest up at the sky

  Infinitely blue and mercilessly cloudless

  No ever-curious squirrels scurry about

  In search of fruit and rice grains offered

  The mangy stray dogs all lull in the shade

  Without their usual barking symphony

  And the streets are devoid of any humans

  Lucky those in air-conditioned offices

  And lazy tourists lounging by the poolside

  Sipping ice-cold bitter-sweet lime juice

  Unlucky those trapped in oven-like houses

  With non-insulated baked-tiles roofs

  Languishing on bed sheets soaked in sweat

  Clinging to the body like a salty second skin

  You lie there with sticky eye-lids blinking

  And will time to tick forth a little faster

  To skip right from post-lunchtime to the

  Somewhat cooler period of pre-dinnertime

  When dusk and sunset promise less heat

  And the shower becomes a real possibility

  For the scorching sun will eventually retire

  But now you’re still trapped inside heat’s net

  In the afternoon of a tropical island far away

  GOSSIP

  Have you heard, have you heard?

  Bluntly, stumbling over each word

  What-what? Tell me, please tell me!

  Breathless, bending forward eagerly

  You won’t believe what I’ve found out!

  Boisterous, in a voice twice as loud

  Hurry, hurry, I can’t wait to hear it.

  Beseechingly, in a real curiosity fit

  Bodies lean close, heads tilt even closer

  Stories unfold, rumour machine’s ferocious

  The malu-man’s fish stinks to heaven

  But gossip’s stench seems even worse

  It reeks of fresh and old blood and the sea

  But the rumour’s smell penetrates it all

  The fisherman’s wife has knit a net of tales

  And a scandalous fish escaped the web

  Isn’t it bad, say, isn’t it terribly bad?

  Boldly, implying the other person’s mad

  Yes-yes, of course, you’re oh-so right!

  Blankly, distracted by a daring sight

  I always knew, told you from the start!

  Belligerently, piercing the confidant’s heart

  We all thought so, it was to be expected.

  Believing, search for truth is neglected

  Tongues click in disgust, brows rise to the sky

  Rumours are working though no-one knows why

  The elavalu-man’s vegetables are wrinkled

  But the well of gossip will never dry up

  He’s tipping the scale in his favour only

  Just like gossipers manipulate as they will

  The vendor’s daughter has sowed vegetables

  And with them has been reaped a tragic tale

  Gossip leaps from tongue to tongue

  Like a hungry stray dog hunting

  Equally immersed in filth

  Gossip creeps from house to house

  Like a greedy fat crow menacing

  Equally egoistic in its nature

  Gossip sprints from person to person

  Like the dangerous dengue disease

  Equally devastating its results

  JOURNEY

  Foot on accelerator – head knocking against roof

  Shake to the left – elbow jamming into door

  Thrust to the right – knee jutting against gear

  Foot on breaks – head crashing into seat

  All neck muscles straining

  All back muscles paining

  Would you consider complaining?

  Bends like jutting elbows

  Rocks like jammed knees

  Narrow hair-pin passages gone astray

  Hair-pin removing jolts on the way

  Passengers openly swearing />
  Car and body need repairing

  Would you come close to despairing?

  Pot holes with bits of road in between

  Bumped and dumped into ditches

  Thoroughly shaken and stirred

  Whipped up limbs reassembling

  While the car continues scrambling

  Up a mountain and down a hill

  Two paces forward, one lapse back

  It’s a journey full of aches and pains

  But a reward awaits the daring traveller

  It’s a relief from all ills and burdens

  When the destination is reached at last

  A sigh of contentment, a breath of fresh air

  A sight for sore eyes, a treat for your ears

  When you eventually behold this miracle

  Endless fertile plains – greener than green

  Rolling hills and soaring mountain ranges

  Paddy field terraces – natural symmetry

  Singing birds, mooing cows, a dog or two

  Fruitful labour – hands harvesting crops

  A lonesome hut with a self-fulfilling life

  Oh, how you indeed behold this miracle!

  Gazing up high – birds flying colourfully by

  A glance to the left – a farmer in the fields

  A glimpse to the right – elephants stomp along

  Staring out ahead – a scenery so worthwhile

  You rub your back and you rub your eyes

  What a torture endured, what a view enjoyed

  Would you not embark on this journey again?

  SHARPEN YOUR SENSES

  Hear the crows screeching from the palm-tree top

  Hindi songs blaring from the nearby all-round shop

  Hear the scuttling of curious squirrels in the trees

  The singing of birds and also the humming of bees

  Hear the honking of trishaws, of busses and cars

  Stray dogs barking and howling at moon and stars

  Hear the street vendors selling their products loudly

  Buddhist temple loudspeakers preaching proudly

  Hear the crashing of the waves and the pelting rain

  The terrorist bombs exploding on the evening train

  Sharpen your senses and listen to your country

  See the sun burn down on beggars and mansions alike

  The hungry workers claim the busy streets in a strike

  See the tranquil beauty of a beach scenery down south

  Exotic vegetables and ripe fruits watering the mouth

  See the famished cow lying in the middle of the road

  Sweating soldiers carrying their heavy weapons load

  See the ruins of ancient cultures and their sacred sites

  Four different religions practicing their religious rites

  See rocky mountains, mangroves and luscious planes

  Billowing exhaust fumes next to overflowing drains

  Sharpen your senses and look at your country

  Smell the salt and tang of the once tsunami-bearing sea

  The superiority of those going abroad with a degree

  Smell the fragrance of flowers only blooming at night

  The bloody sweat and crazy ardour of terrorist fight

  Smell camphor in sarees and coconut oil in long hair

  Precious teak and mahogany notes carried in the air

  Smell the reeking of burning garbage on the street

  Exhaust fumes and flies settling on street-sold meat

  Smell incense and oil lamps at a temple and at home

  Perfumes of exotic plants that in this country roam

  Sharpen your senses and smell your country

  Taste the richness of a fruit plucked right from the tree

  Indulge in a myriad of aromas of famous Ceylon tea

  Taste hot curries prepared in clay pots as cookware

  Asian cuisine enjoyed in this neatest tropical flair

  Taste appetizing food with a zillion of ground spices

  Discover your taste buds left to their own devices

  Taste various seafood daily caught in the Indian Ocean

  The bitter-sweetness of an Asian mother’s devotion

  Taste roasted spicy snacks and most delicious sweets

  Truly Asian flavours in anything sold on the streets

  Sharpen your senses and taste your country

  Feel the gentle breeze contrast with the heat-waves

  The sheer horror of witnessing unearthed mass graves

  Feel the leathery skin of richly decorated elephants

  The misery of a thousand poor hard-working peasants

  Feel the sand and the mud beneath your bare soles

  The utter despair in the war victims ravaged souls

  Feel the joy and reverence in religious processions

  The falseness in so many recent political confessions

  Feel the pride to belong to the Sri Lankan Nation

  Longing for a better future of the young generation

  Sharpen your senses and feel your country

  PLEASE, SIR

  Sir, you have money for me?

  A pleading voice falteringly asks

  Begging in one-sentenced English

  Taught by the teenage food vendor

  Who watches her from across the road

  And often needs to use the same plea

  Sir, aney, please, sir?

  An outstretched hand added to the voice

  Dusty calloused bony little fingers

  With mud-caked blood-caked nails

  Attached to an even bonier dark arm

  Belonging to an emaciated child’s body

  With a face hollow, dirty and still so young

  Sir, one rupee, sir?

  The puffy reddish-white face turns to her

  From high up above and so far away

  She starts her litany in Sinhala words

  Rapidly a life story unfolds, incomprehensible

  Of a fate so tragic that it’s never believed

  Sir, my mother died from starvation

  Evoking with truthfully tearful eyes

  A haggard skinny woman in stinky rags

  Who looked more than twice her age

  Who loved her unwanted daughter

  But couldn’t provide for her at all

  Sir, my father died from an accident

  Telling of a weary poor old toddy tapper

  Who fell from the palm tree one day

  Who didn’t love his unwanted daughter

  Beating his useless wife every night

  Because the money was never enough

  Sir, my brother was sent to prison

  Remembering with longing and terror

  The elder boy giving the finishing stroke

  Who started stealing to fill her stomach

  Who never considered her unwanted

  Yet ruined both of their young lives

  Sir, I’m all alone, hungry, thirsty, sick

  Concluding the tragedy depicting her life

  Looking up with big black blank eyes

  Stretching her small hand a little further

  Silently admiring the mysterious tourist

  Her life depending on his doubtful mercy

  Aney, please…

  The little girl is out of words to plead

  And the foreigner out of time to spare

  Impatiently he waves her plight aside

  Another fly to swat away carelessly

  Another nuisance to spoil his holiday

  Sir!

  But he’s already half out of sight now

  Cursing the government hypocritically

  For not eliminating the beggar problem

  Off to his splendidly cool 5-star Hotel room

  Ignoring his guilty conscience stubbornly

  No more desperate words from the girl

  Defeat doesn’t come easily though known

  Maybe she will be luckier next time…

  SRI LANKA
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  Silk sarees, wrinkled sarongs, and crisp school uniforms

  Raucous laughter, betel chewing, home-brewed toddy

  Indian movies, Korean daily soaps, and immortal singers

  Luscious paddy fields, sturdy buffaloes, stately elephants

  And let’s not forget the elusive Sri Lankan leopard’s lure

  Neatly swept temple grounds, ramshackle railway-side huts

  Kicking off cricket matches in sweltering heat, pouring rain

  And munching devilishly spicy snacks while discussing politics

  Sizzling seafood, crimson chili, more bananas than imaginable

  Rivers snaking through mountains, waterfalls like hidden gems

  Island-wide celebrations where neighbours offer oily sweets

  Lightning strikes, power outages, nevertheless toothy smiles

  And always a readiness to share what little one may have

  Natural splendour, heritage sites, ruins with stories to tell

  Kings never forgotten, horns never silent in traffic from hell

  Afternoons full of afterthoughts, washed down with black tea

  RAIN SONG

  A distant din, drawing defiantly nearer

  Like a wetly whispered warning roar

  Then the discordant, disrupting drumming of drops

  Hammering on tin roofs and hard-baked earth

  The deluge destroys the calm, uncaring, indiscriminating

  Clamouring, crashing through, courting calamity

  Heaven has unleashed a many-headed beast

  A monster’s saliva greedily dripping down, down

  A hundred hungry tongues, licking, lapping, lashing

  The beast’s hoofs beat the ground, stir up trouble and mud

  Its breath a whooshing wind, whipping trees into new shapes

  Palm fronds bending to its will, glistening green

  As the ravenous rain hurtles down at a rakish angle

  To twist here, to toss there, to splatter everywhere

  Cacophony of monsoon, chaos, cursed blessing