Annie George

.

DURGA AND (KATHA)KALI

"Leave us

your daughter,

in return

shall we bestow

you gifts of

a son,

bangles of alta red,

white and gold…"

No, shakes my mother's head

in vain.

Our kasavu-bordered sarees

will stand her

in good stead,

making suitable matches

for her sindoora cholees.

"She fed at our breast

and toyed with the seasons.

In her veins run

the ambrose of rasagullas

and black jamuns"

No, no, shakes my mother's head

in vain.

"Our jackfruit-jams

will keep her

in good shape.

She greeted us

every October,

when we made

ritual visits

from our celestial abode, here."

Her flower carpets

laid in August

are essential

for welcoming

our Lord

from the nether world.

"Saraswati and Viswakarma

seasoned her

in the Arts and Crafts.

Lakshmi and Ganesha

honed her skills

in health and wealth.

Together,

we could whirl

and twist a leg or two

in Kathak."

First,

let her master

her lessons in Thiruvathira

and perhaps, Kathakali.

Isn't nineteen years

at thy abode-

Durga-pur

enough?

Both these masks

On the wall

turn to me,

mockingly,

seeking an answer.

I turn away

helpless,

dumb,

apprehensive:

A fish out of water.

"Both of us love rice, fish

and the epics;

Both of us ruminate on aval

muri and marxism;

Both of us love to redden

Our tongues with betel-leaves.

Then what does it matter

if our daughter

chooses to live

anywhere."

BETWEEN SISTERS

Between errands

and endless cups of coffee

the only break

You get to hear

is a hurried discussion

'when the hurly-burly's done

when shall we meet again?'

exchanging-everything-everyday

(as though

they haven't met each other for years).

More heated topics:

babies,blouses ,bleaches,beads,

sarees,serials, prices of cylinders…

even confessions made to the parish priest!

Covering as many topics as possible

under the sun,

unaware of the drizzle outside

wetting the clothes ,or the empty bottles

drying in the sun.

The level of milk in the saucepan has reached the bottom.

Sleepless nights and feverish debates

on dream projects

And experiences repeated.

Whispers at times, shrill at others, hoarse in the end,

Silly sometimes,

serious otherwise,

whatever the note

You can be sure-

You are never lonely

if you have a sister.

GLADIOLI

Come September

Stalks of flaming orange,

ochre and white,

remember their master

in their garden of eden.

Bulbs of mirth

door-delivered by post

from Kalimpong,

come in exquisite

names and varieties.

The roses, the gerberas

and the Japanese lilies,

they fought for their father's attention,

While his gaze never left

The pink or white tongued beauties.

They adorned the bouquets, once,

the vases and the bridal cars at weddings.

Now I hear them sigh

as they accompany us to his grave,

every September.

Annie George

Poet, editor, translator and amateur artist. Early years  in West Bengal. Higher  education  in Kerala.  Composed her first poem at the age of twelve. Won ANNIE GEORGE laurels for the institutions studied in, including 'Kalathilakam' or first places in poetry and short story writing at the inter-University youth fest held at Kozhikode in 1995. After a brief stint as a teacher within and outside the country, joined the administrative staff at the M.G University, Kottayam, Kerala in 1997. She is the author of, Gladioli and other poems,  and  Destressing . Editor of Roots And Wings , An Anthology of Indian Women Writing in English, Border is her translation of P Surendran's Malayalam short stories .