By Riddhi & Siddhi Agrawal
It wasn’t on Doom's day,
Nor did the sky go ferociously black,
or clouds palpitated from thunderous cracks,
The dead didn’t rise from their sooty beds
with hands hanging loosely in front
and eyes half-closed, mindlessly lurching
hither and thither,
Elephants spurned going on a rampage
And tigers weren’t guzzling blood from skulls of the living,
Saints weren’t leaving those brothels
and men weren’t screaming- “Help!”
It wasn’t the destruction day
that precedes the judgment day,
yet…
Everything was just that.
Our eyes were dancing from object to
object,
cushioned on tormenting sleepless nights,
pleading something as if our life depended upon that.
The eyebrows were quaky and eyes smelled of dead rats
martyred in those deserted trenches
What to say of the frozen limbs?
the fours that unholy Saturn wrenches.
Indifferently, the olive tree went on whispering its
fabled hymn.
We still recall the brown upholstery
and the cabled television set
ignorant to our liquid sirens- salty and slurry,
and the introspective angst as deep as
ocean bed.
And Bob the Builder ridiculed our terror
Grandpa’s lush grey smoke was indifferent
of the creeping phantoms: not powerful but abhorrent.
Pulled in by the familiarity of wooden furniture and lingering fragrance
in the hallway,
we found ourselves on our six-year-old knees, joining hands,
certain of death on this familiar land
“Mommy, just this one day?”
“No way, get up without delay, it’s only school!”
It wasn’t just school, it was the Dooms Day,
And the heavens had passed their judgment.
We left the comfort of loving bed and brushed our teeth,
the mirror above echoed our muffled cries and swollen eyelids-
half from sleep, half from dread.
We dragged our bodies to the washing land and,
after cleaning our bodies, we were in a haze,
why is the heart not cleaner, not lighter yet?
And dressing ourselves up in the dull brown clothes in outlandish haste,
we slithered to our mother, with joined hands and pleading eyes,
she, understanding our intentions,
produced with ease- “No.”
And as we watched her packing our pink lunchboxes
we knew she meant what she had said.
“Drink this” She handed us two different glasses,
we eyed the light brown liquid reeking of chocolate,
suspecting it to be too warm beyond our tolerance,
we turned our faces to the side.
“Why” our mother asked smilingly,
“We don’t want to.” Was our little protest having any impact?
Now was the deadliest of all moments:
Unaffected, mom waved us her farewell,
We turned our backs half furiously,
half expecting her to accede.
But no melody accompanied our palpitating scarlet beast
and we made our way to the yellow-fleeced
bus; and seated ourselves away from the havoc
of a bustling world.
No pair of eyes had grasped that which we did:
the simple truth about living:
perhaps school didn’t mean all that learning
if anything it metamorphosed us into
lethal machines,
otherwise, why do you think, people would learn to desert
quicker than they learned to care?
Now our eyes hailed from desolate place beheld the greater coucal’s cooing
and dogs stretching on the side of filthy streets,
the vendors opening their shops
that we apprehended
no rotting flesh frequented
and the old man’s tea stall…
Pacifying to the rustle of the leaves,
and sweet to the momentary wind,
our brains agreed,
of the true study: to be fearless and free.
But we were captives to this destiny, and it was acting up,
the fear blown into a fire in our stomachs.
Of course, all acts of love must be thrown out
We weren’t lactose intolerant, and it wasn’t acid reflux,
so we did what was to be done:
One of us threw up on the bus…
To heaven’s grace, none of the inmates noticed
did we vanish into thin air? the heavens cloaked us?
it must be the Earth! burying us under,
or the cracks in clouds sucking us above!
Our bloodshot eyes turned around,
eyeing the captives for scorns and frowns
but returned empty-handed.
Ignorance: that’s what it means to study!
Nevertheless, we were safe and sound,
only indisposed and alarmed,
It was only six-year-olds malfunctioning,
Nobody walked south,
Even if somebody did, would it count?
The golden summer light electrifying the yellow machine rode to where lunacy loomed,
we lost all sight of swaying flowers and bloom,
And the rest of the journey was passed half hiding, half mourning the creation.
How did a man so misconstrued education?
Where did this fear stem from?
the world often overlooks all the goodness
it could have borne witness to!
No wonder education is in ruins,
No wonder school is not what it should have been…
As soon as destiny chimed in
The train of captives emptied the cabin,
leaving us alone to the vagary of time,
We sat there not crying but terrified and
eyes cast down.
She was not disgusted by watching me in ruins,
as others would have, she neither humiliated nor ran away,
together we went to the likes of us, different skins, but same blood:
without repelling, those from the hovels, cleaned my skirt,
made me sit, regain my strength and smile pleasingly.
Yes, they approved of us!
And they made their best efforts to dry the prisoner’s stripes,
after the motherly care and simple act of love,
they set us free,
from their humble abode of wisdom,
to confront the unyielding and ignoble kingdom!