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| Photo courtesy: Cityjournal.in |
A few of you know why I have not been blogging as much. In the soap
opera that is my life, this is but another blip. Some of you also know we had visited India and have only recently returned. This year's visit did not involve rest and relaxation. As an aside, it usually doesn't; but this year was particularly difficult. In any case, we went to Bombay and then to Kerala; three days later, my mother-in-law was hospitalised and we spent our time going to and from the hospital from our respective houses.
We discovered that if we got out of the hospital (or our homes) at a certain time, say, anytime between mid-morning and midnight, then it made no sense to take an auto rickshaw so we could get home or to the hospital quickly. As far as eye could see, vehicles would be packed together bumper to bumper. The first time it happened, Sadu was glad he was walking. The next day, on my way back, I didn't even bother looking for a rickshaw. It was faster to walk.
As always, when I
need to keep the blog going, I turn to my personal caped crusader (well,
not really, but I'm allowed some poetic license) to
fill the lacunae. So, here, is another of Sadu's laments.
When I was going to Chembukkav
I was going
to Chembukkav-uh
One afternoon in
mid-August.
That's when the monsoon
ends in Keral-uh.
And so, of course,
the rains began in earnest.
I made my way
through flooded paths
Raincoats and
umbrellas all in a huddle
It was raining
cats and dogs.
I almost stepped
into a poodle...
When came I
to Patturaickal junction
What did I see
in front of me?
To the limit of
my vision the streets were filled
With cars,
buses, rickshaws and the occasional lorry.
And as they
gridlocked stayed
From them arose
a cacophony
Of horns and
shouts and curses
A staggered
Schoenbergian symphony.
I asked a
watching police constable
Who stood
propping up a fence
"Saar, what
ails these vehiculared people?"
He winced and
spoke with rare eloquence.
"Traafic
jaam", he said succinctly
And viciously at
a passing beetle spat
"Cars! Too
many rich people, that is all, simbly."
His sympathies,
definitely lay with the proletariat.
"But 'til
where," I asked?
The guardian
gazed deep into my
cerebellum
"Town,
district, and far beyond," he said
Maybe even to
Thiruvananthapuram.
And truly at
TV-Puram, the CM
Asked his minions
if it was true
That the traffic
would not budge at all
"No, not
even from Kottayam to Trichur."
"And it is
much worse," they cried
"Do you
realise, Saar,
"We left
for Delhi yesterday
Yet we are still
stuck in the car."
"What?"
cried the CM in disarray
I thought we
were already at the centre
"Saar, you
fell asleep on the way
Lulled by
melodious party propagander."
"Now the
opposition will use this against us
And ask
questions in the assembly."
"Not to
worry, Saar," they smiled; "Their bus
Will not make it
beyond Sultan Bathery1.
"Even if they do,
they will be stuck.
We guarantee
they will not reach Thodupuzha2
Reduced to
singing in their ancient truck
Namuddakar
Russiakkar Stalin namudde netav*
But the
opposition did no such thing
They sat and
weighed the situation
And watched as
the local populace
Showered the
ruling party with vituperation.
As I
crisscrossed fro and to Chembukkav-uh
I saw in the
midst of my perambulation
Stationary
vehicles I had grown familiar with
Shaju-mon,
Gracy-mol, Kerala State Road Transport Corporation.
The traffic jam
grew, ah woe betide
And passengers
grew dessicated
Their starving
lips were gaping wide
Their tummies
shrank abbreviated.
I saw this scene
almost every day
When I visited
my wife-house
(This is what
the male Malayalees say
When they refer
to the residence of the spouse.)
Then finally the
opposition
Seized on
opportunity's knock
Announced a
complete statewide hartaal
No vehicle to go
forward, no person to walk.
The news of this
announcement
Came as manna to
every fellah
And liquor
stores on the day before
The hartaal,
raked in the moolah.
Pedestrians
flocked from far and wide
To buy their
spot of liquor
To spend the
anointed hartaal day
In a happy
drunken stupor.
The motorists on
the other hand
Spent hartaal
day reversing
They finally got
out of their traffic jam
And into their
garages cursing.
The opposition's
hartaal was a great success
The common man
praised their sagacity
And promised at
the next election
To vote them
into a ruling capacity.
Somewhere I am
told, beside the road
That connects
Bekal to Thiruvanathapuram
There exists a
new shrine that is the abode
Of the God of
the Traafic jaam.
Maintained by the current opposition
(Not yet become
the ruling party)
For while it is
not their disposition
God fearing
atheists such as they be,
They scorn
religious superstition
Yet, they do
believe in destiny.
©Sadanand Warrier 2012
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* Old CPI slogan. Quite literally, the Russians
are our people, Stalin is our leader.
1. Sultan Bathery is in North Kerala, far from Thiruvananthapuram, the capital. It is actually a mispronunciation of the word 'battery'. Tipu Sultan used an unused Jain temple to place his gun battery here.
1. Sultan Bathery is in North Kerala, far from Thiruvananthapuram, the capital. It is actually a mispronunciation of the word 'battery'. Tipu Sultan used an unused Jain temple to place his gun battery here.
2. Thodupuhza is in
central Kerala, and a bastion of the Congress party, should the
opposition have had the temerity to reach it.
With humble apologies to
John J Keats, Theodore S Geissel, and Kerala politics.
