By Indra Narayan Das
Despicable face, covered with filth,
he was awful just like me.
People found us in obscure spaces,
the dark mostly set us free.
We also had a thing for left overs,
hell had its own decree.
He fed on them, I felt like one,
this was our life’s tapestry.
It was a Sunday morning, I think,
when I had a date with muck.
The city sewerage was choked again
with the mess of human guck.
I was summoned by the city council
to go down and clean the mess.
I had to make it all tidy again
with a put-on smile on my face.
I opened the lid of that dreaded pit
and entered the hole of death.
Waist deep in the filth and the slop,
I held my unprivileged breath.
My nostrils were desperately trying
to scan the dingy air.
Wishing away those noxious fumes
was a silent plea and a prayer.
It was a choice, I made every time,
to breathe or not to breathe
a sudden death in, or a slow death out,
the choice was a binary feat.
There was a scary quiet inside
this parallel world of gloom,
A Stygian shit-hole without sunshine
had the touch and smell of doom
And then I saw him, that yellow beauty,
perched on a broken tile!!
He was watching me with indifference.
sans a scowl or a smile
He wasn’t human, so he didn’t judge either,
I just could hear him say..
“You can take a breath my friend,
It’s safe here today”
I was so happy to hear his voice!!
For now, it seemed, I will survive.
The litmus test of safety in there,
was cockroach, chirpy and live.
I took a deep breath and said
“I am here to earn my living,
But what are you doing here
In midst of the muck and the stink?”
“Oh Come on” he howled “It’s a free country
You can do without this reproach,
I need my me- time too
So what if I am a cockroach?
I get slurred, shooed and slammed,
they also call me names.
They keep their houses dirty
and put on me, all the blames.
I have had enough of the humans,
superior beings for no reason nor rhyme
Their double standards make me cringe
so I slide my way into the slime.”
Amused at his insectile rant, I said
“Shut up you stupid arthropod.
Human beings are beautiful things,
A few of them are nearly Gods.
How dare you demean a race
That makes computers and cars?
We rule over the land and the sea
We are about to conquer the stars”
He scoffed with a flutter of his dirty feathers
With plenty of scorn and snark,
and said “What’s the fun of being so bright
When your life within is so dark?
We cockroaches don’t believe in Gods,
our lives are plain and simple.
Have you ever seen us fight
over a mosque or a church or a temple?
And well done my human friend
on making flashy computers and cars.
We aren’t so smart for sure
But we also didn’t fight two world wars.
And the third one is just round the corner
a celebration of human greed!!
Have you ever seen a cockroach
Who gathers more than he needs?”
I was running out of answers now
but we humans hate to lose.
An organism so low in the food chain
was about to blow my fuse.
I snarled “Listen you dirty pest,
How dare you challenge our might?
Battles and wars are waged by the kings
to protect our human rights.
You guys have no idea at all
What makes we humans great.
We tax the rich and poor alike
and run a welfare state.”
The cockroach laughed so hard at this
that he almost fell into the stream
He looked at me with the ugliest smile
and said “Wake up, my son, from your dreams.
Cockroaches know how to survive this world
without a government or legislation.
Should we also train your welfare state
to take care of potholes and contamination?
You and I are sitting in this sludge,
I know it is a sorry plight.
At least I am here by my own choice,
what happened to your human rights?
The modern world with computers and cars
have wealth and greed to chase,
so they sent a human in the hole
to clean up all their mess?
We pests may be soaked in stinky filth,
we always clean up our sly
But those who want their upstairs clean
have sent you downstairs to die”
He couldn’t finish his words this time,
my shovel fell hard on his wings.
He had pushed his luck a bit too far,
his truth had begun to sting.
The mortal remains of the irksome pest
was lost in the unlit hole.
But the dark around looked darker now,
my flesh and soul had turned cold.
I tried looking up through the manhole,
my eyes searched for hope.
But the sun had set and the Gods went deaf,
life didn’t offer a rope.
I thought of hunger, I thought of shame,
I thought of fear making me cry,
blinded by the ugly truth
that scavengers are born to die.
Amazingly crafted