(SR) 12: South India
SOUTH INDIA
MUMBAI
THE EAR CLEANER
GOKARNA
THE INCREDIBLE INDIA CODE
FORT COCHIN
INDIAN RAILWAYS
KANYAKAMARI
ON IMAGINING THE SCENTED SUTRA
NALATIYAR
THIRUVALLUVAR
DEPARTING FOR ANDAMAN
CASTAWAY
AVATARAS
SOUTH INDIA
After reaching India I spent some time on
going about the country
Mahatma Ghandi
37,000 ft
Across Europa we have both progress’d,
By foot, by boat, by tram, by bus, by train,
But this hour, from a cool & pleasant plane,
Sees me sailing air on a grander quest,
The scenes by cyan skies & soft cloud blest,
How seldom seen & varied the terrain
Of ashen peak, urban sprawl, verdant plain,
Gleaming sea, wastes of sand & wylde forest.
As soon as we abandon Europa,
I could already taste the eastern scent,
The sun was setting west of Syria,
The starry heavens singing its lament,
As somewhere yon the grey Arabia
My pilot was beginning his descent.
MUMBAI
Our plane approaches as the ghostly wraith,
Thro’ nights black regions steadily she falls
Into this lab’rinth of a billion souls,
Vast myriad of language, race & faith.
So, I am come, come to this sultry shore,
First diamond of the crown Victorian,
Earth’s epicenter, an empyrean
Melting pot of empires to explore.
By eastern flair was western thought inspired,
I am recently led to understand,
With me I have fetch’d a mind of England
& all my love for beauty there acquired.
When, swooning ‘neath an infant urchin’s, “Please!”
How many times would I see sights like these?
THE EAR CLEANER
Stepping out one golden Goan morning,
Drowsy with the sunken sun’s adorning,
Content, was I, to be in nature’s hand,
Soul-freshen’d as bare feet sunk into sand.
From out of nowhere stept a wizen’d man,
“Sahib! cleaning your hearing well I can!”
Shows Western praises in his little book,
Black blocks of wax from both my ears he took
I shook the hand that scrubb’d my hearing clear
Said fond farewells & watch’d him disappear
Round red & rugged hill flank’d by the view
Of Konkan coast careering into blue,
When first found I the profits of his fee
I’d never known how sweetly sounds the sea!
GOKARNA
Lapsing on a ledge over Paradise,
Among my beads now glows a silver rose
The first one I had found, Italia
Makes sound as India, & as those pees –
Pisa, Portovenere, mark’d that find,
Me performing musica nel strada
& sleeping al fresco… up Palolem
I’d redefin’d myself a top DJ,
&, as the Gulf of Poets gave me peace,
This perfect bay has now relax’d my muse,
Enough to think that sticking too one’s path,
With all its little wonders, sets us free,
Composing songs thro’ bitter British snows,
But far away, where sea & beaches meet!
THE INCREDIBLE INDIA CODE
1 Book your tickets in advance
2 Separate your money sources
3 Never trust a tout
4 Keep tabs on yer tabs
5 If they say they’re a masseuse – they’re not
6 Murder all mosquitoes before bed
7 Never trust a fart
8 Anything is possible in India
9 Check your room thoroughly before leaving
10 Picking up stones scares off dogs & monkeys
11 Eat with your non-wiping hand
12 “I was an Indian in another life!”
13 Plenty of change for journeys
14 Ask five different people for directions
FORT COCHIN
Come share a second with serenity
Up in this lake of European rooves,
This crescent lamp’d oer th’Arabian sea
Lulls me thither, I hear the sound of hooves…
At once a sacred chime grows on the breeze,
Some teller of a thousand ancyent tayles,
Some from the world’s crop-fellers overseas,
Some cross the Karakoram’s lofty trails,
Some were seekers of immortal glory,
Some content to be husbands, to be wives…
Tho’ the vision all clutter’d & hoary,
With me a single memory survives,
Being extras in the global story
We are stars in the movies of our lives.
INDIAN RAILWAYS
I found myself waiting at this train station,
Not for a train, it was just to buy a ticket,
Not even for that day, but eleven in the future,
The next one available from Cochin to Calicut;
So, I´m waiting & I’m waiting & I´m waiting nit-pick longer,
& the guy behind the desk´s on his third guy in an hour
& I was fourth, but the seventh guy´s hand starts waving
His reservation form as the third guy was about to finish;
So, I warned fifth, sixth, & seventh they´d be foolish for linecuttin,’
After all, I’d been in the sun all day like a mad English dog
& my legs felt like lead & I was definitely, definitely, goin’ next…
So, the third guy finishes, & just as I thrust my form thro’ the window
The fella behind the desk decides he needs the fuckin’ toilet…
Then, when he’d finish’d, the scoundrel closes the window fer lunch!
KANYAKAMARI
I stepp’d onto Vivikenanda’s rock
There paus’d, of situation took full stock,
Before me, some vast fan, India spread,
Behind, lay endless ocean, grey as lead
Above, & to the side, a statue rose
Some noble poet in his noblest pose
& I gazed I swear he winked at me.
Into my mind th’Orphean frequency
Sang, ‘Boy, wherever in the world ye be
Remember me!’….’Tis Thiruvalluvar!’
Says saddhu, startl’d by me, who had seen
Or sens’d a dream twyx poets, inbetween
A butterfly thro’ silver sea-spray flew…
…The boat-bell rang, I sprang to join the queue.
ON IMAGINING THE SCENTED SUTRA
As I was walking pastel Madurai,
Booksellers by dust yellows caught my eye,
Two books I bought there; the Perfumed Garden
& the Kama Sutra, with firm hard on
I read them in the street, some gnarl’d old man
Sold me opium; ‘neath the whirring fan
Of my bare room, sweet tonic to the heat,
I gorg’d on both, thro’ moments rolling sweet
I toss’d & turn’d upon a lonely bed,
Full wishing there’s a women there instead,
When in a flash of inspiration gold
I knew these sexy texts must be retold –
Pleasant for the present & the future,
Spreads the essence of the Scented Sutra.
NALATIYAR
Her
O lord of fertile land & everflowing waterfalls
O lord of cool sunshine warming ocean´s running waves
O lord of good country with beautiful ebony mountains
O lord of flowery hills with lush & sparkling waterfalls
O lord of honey-bearing woods in the good country
O lord of long seashore with fine, unfailing salt-pans
O lord of the hills with lovely sandal groves on
O lord of cool lagoons & bays brimming with water
O lord of prosperous vineyards & huge gem-studded caverns
Him
O beautiful lady with breasts like budding flowers
O lady of beautiful hair with fragrance of musk
O lady of long-eyed spears & beautiful bow-like eyebrows
Him & Her
O lord of bewitching victories, bring these beauties out in me
THIRUVALLUVAR
As I rested on a fine, empty beach, by the Bay of Bengal,
In soft seconds of existence I was alerted to a flutter of birds,
From mile along the coast I watch’d the white robes of a man approaching,
& expected him to pass, but on coming within a few metres,
He veer’d towards me suddenly, leaving no footsteps in the sand,
“What is your profession?” he curtly asked, “I am a sonneteer, sir!”
His magnificent eyes burrowed into the heartlands of my soul,
“By any chance, are you carrying a pretty silver rose?”
Astonish’d, I shew’d him the bloom d’argent hung round my neck;
After humming an Upanishad he said, “I have been expecting you,
Ever since I felt the a shimmering flux, out to the west of Eden;
As seven words a kural make, seven kural form a sonnet!”
Confirming my epiphanies into the elegant depths of sonnetry,
He smil’d, then he departed, left no footsteps in the sand…
DEPARTING FOR ANDAMAN
Gazing across exotic ocean stream
Shamrock musing drifts to distant Burnley,
Where for as long as breathing there shall be
My family, my friends, my football team –
So far away, for following my dream
I am a stranger in a strange contree,
Though slowly hook’d upon its cup of tea,
Darjeeling serv’d up with a Devon cream.
The sun has fallen & the ship has sail’d,
The last lamps of the mainland shrink & fade,
A momentary notion has prevail’d,
As Vagu & Varuna soft notes play’d,
Next time by solid ground my feet regaled
Into youth’s fleeting heart I shall have stray’d.
CASTAWAY
Down southern Andaman lies Jolly Bouy,
Of rainbow coral, full of snorkling joy,
I spent an hour lagooning in a laze,
& fell astoned, then woke, to my amaze
The boat had left me, deserted, alone,
No rizlas, samosas, water, nor phone!
A mile or so across the sharky foam,
A trail of smoke show’d someone was at home,
I built a brushweed raft, but that soon sank,
So off I swam, my goddess I should thank
For showing me this was a wild riptide,
Young muscles haul’d me back, I’d nearly died!
Then, waving to distant boats, at sunset,
I’d be the strangest fish they’ve ever net.
AVATARAS
At the back of the ship, at the height of the trip,
Drawn by the harmonies of Lord Vishnu’s call,
Navel-rooted lotus soft floats ‘over waters
Absorbing the beauteous Bay of Bengal,
Transcending to milk, pearly seaway of silk,
Thou lavender cushion of infinite white,
Surrounding the foetal spirit centripetal
Sucking upon toenails painted starry bright.
“Rider, thou art return’d to India,
Saraswathi, I see, has smil’d on you,
Thy mortal aura bless’d in her prayer,
Thine energies hued in a rainstorm blue,
Come drape thyself in the Himalaya,
For there, thy Rose of Sylver shall renew.”
Mumble Words 