Creative Work
Family Affair
The sun rises and sets on Jumba
As he pounds deep into the ground
To sow seeds that he will reap from
He lifts a hoe above his head
And the ribs protrude from his weary flesh
Showing nothing but his aging frame
Sweat drips from his forehead
And flows onto the ground
Before the same sun could dry it up
He puts the tool on his back at dusk
And heads home stretch his
As he awaits the harvest season
That will keep his children in school
"For that is where my future lies
A better and brighter future.”
Motherhood
Time check, 11p.m and contractions heighten
She feels a heavy and painful load on her shoulders and back
With trembling hands, she helplessly traces for a lantern
As she stumbles through the dark and falls on her knees
She has no helping hand
For her better half has gone for his usual night duties- on a drinking
spree
Suddenly, blood splashes on the ground as she screams for help
She calls out neighbours from the mountain across
But her wails vanish through the wind
Two hours later, her body lies next to the door
Two lives lost in two hours
Earning Easy
An alarm echoes in his
dream
Yawning and
stretching, he arises
Great hopes liven him up
Looking forward to a fruitful day
He leaves the house
To go to work
To earn a pay
With a perquisite
He sets his foot onto
the entrance
Says a few hellos and proceeds
Jealously guarding time in the elevator
Then storms off to the fifth floor
He reaches his second haven
flips though the daily papers
Reads and responds to mails
For coffee and lunch are in the house
Onto a sleek table
He marks the present date
Makes calls for the day’s plan
Then calls it a day
Broken
She walks through the
lit hallway
Holding a banquet of lilies
And passes by the chanting crowd
That livens up her beaming face
Though her heart is pouncing
She parades along the altar
With the rest of the
spruced up entourage
She glances at her
once betrothed man
Their eyes rhythmically meet
With too much to say, too little too late
For he has a marriage certificate to sign
And she will find a perfect catch
To take her for a wife
Namazzi
There
she stands –
legs ajar and arm akimbo,
a cigarette warming her tongue
smoke fogging her eyes,
and warming her misty hair.
A
black and silver cross
trickles between her breasts,
a black leather dress
embraces her skinny, tired body
that stands on the same spot.
‘Beep,
beep,’ a car hoots,
she cat-walks to meet the ‘man of the night’
He
smacks her bottom twice
and pushes her away.
She
stumbles in high heels
but steadily straightens
gazing at the fading headlights
before wiping a tear from her left cheek
and standing hopefully
on her spot
again.
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