Wednesday, September 12, 2012

The Tables

by Amiya Chatterjee on Wednesday, 1 February 2012 at 13:50 ·
It was a gift, 
A butterfly  coloured green sari,
Jhooma chose to hang herself
from the ceiling fan on one 
" Darbari" night.
The twentyone year old 's body  shuddered,
Then stilled,
The little note under  paperweight
on the table shivered and shrieked,
" No one is responsible  for my death,
Ma, you will be my ma 
life after life, after life...
Do not let Baba touch me."

The boy 
in between the deep theories of
Economic Intelligence in the cochingclass
searched  in vain 
towards the empty lane,
Then a hopeless  mournful sigh.

The mother  who lost her first child 
only three  years ago , a victim of Thalasemia,
Froze with her tears of blood,
Lastnights birthday treat 
stood untouched  on the kichen table,
  Red antsoldiers marching around.

The cursed Father Rocked and rocked  and
went on repeating again  and again
from the tables of life......
" Two one za Two
Two two z four....
Fathers , Fathers dont do it
Dont rebuke your unruly child
Do not ...
Two one za Two
Two z Two......
Let her go to another repeat of 
Multiplication tables.
Or be cursed."

(On the basis of a news item . A father used to 
rebuke his daughter for returning late from
coaching classes .The daughter hanged herself )

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