The Street - I

 

Childhood

 

The naked child runs out, into the street

I suspect from an impending bath

His haggard mother follows close behind

Calling out our names aloud

 

Thus I’m startled awake some mornings

But relieved to realize that ‘it’s not for me’

That the one in trouble is my namesake

The naked child on the street

 

One day, the child sneaked up to a lazing dog

He sat up tall at the sight of the child…

The child kissed the dog on the snout

Much to my fear and his delight

 

The street for the child is another home

Redolent with wonderful sounds and sights

As his mother’s watchful gaze eases off him
To the street he heads, for a taste of life

The Street - II

 

On Christmas Eve

 

I sit closeted in my house

In anticipation of a quiet Christmas Eve

A pressure cooker hisses

At the landlords’ in the floor beneath

 

From the neighbors’ stream into my house

Strains of carols both recorded and live

Another neighbor’s disagreements

On the telephone will last into the night

 

I’ve learnt the sounds from this street

Can not be subjugated by curtains or walls

And from my balcony, it’s an effort to avoid

Chance intrusions into the opposite house

 

From across the street, the mother angrily

Calls out to the now familiar child

A quiet evening seems a distant luxury

So I’ll settle for the street’s small town charm

 

 

The Street - III

 

The Camel and the Gypsy

 

A peculiar sight on my street

Reminiscent of sand dunes far away

A desert gypsy, a reluctant camel in tow

Curious residents stop to stare

 

An oddity for a Southern morning

More a moment from a north Indian day

A shrill bell announces the arrival

The perturbed street dogs give them way

 

The camel and the master

Rugged, unwashed, in perfect harmony

A shared beauty of primordial merit

Of mutual struggles and destiny

 

A temporary focus for this street’s din,

They generate awe-filled delight.

As they stop under the coconut tree

Interested residents inquire about the ride

 

As he helps a child on to the camel’s back

His glistening tribal earrings catch my eye

Would any story ever do justice to

The adventures burrowed deep in his brow

 

I imagine the two setting off on foot

Leaving behind poor but familiar environs

Traversing the country and its thoroughfares

Through winter nights, and rainy days

 

The Street - IV

 

From the Roof

 

I collect dry clothes from the lines.

Thus I find my way up here, on the roof,

Out of habit, for mundane chores

And at times, out of wanderlust.

 

It’s calm here especially at night,

But the roof affords only a limited view.

The surrounding buildings stand taller,

The coconut tree is an obstruction.

 

But the view is enough to accentuate

The demerits, the disorder in the street,

Its existence seemingly accidental

To the plan of disorderly houses.

 

But with the night, descends upon

The street, calm and a measure of order,

Except for the occasional packs of dogs.

And my street calls it an early day.

 

In stealth conversations over the phone,

And in saunters across the roof

Under the night sky of infinite beauty,

The street offers memorable moments.

 

 

The Street – V

 

On a Lazy Morning

 

Most were inconspicuous

As they hurried down my street.

But you are the one I’ll hope to see

On sun-kissed lazy mornings, leisurely.

 

 The Street – VI

 

A Note on my Canine Acquaintances

 

If you walk down the length of my street

You can’t miss the three camel-colored dogs

Hidden in the safety of two-wheelers or cars

Familiarity is the only emotion they evoke

 

Their presence precedes my stay of two years

And is fundamental to my memory of the street

Like the little child, and the coconut tree

And the green house which is home to me

 

At the sight of approaching feet

Their tails droop behind their arching backs

An unparalleled show of enthusiasm greets

An insignificant gesture of friendliness

 

A relief every morning, to see them unscathed

But a thought goes out to them when I hear

Marauding packs of dogs sweeping across

Late in the night, my street is a pitiless world