Dear Reader
Today’s poem takes after a prompt by Alt Poetry who discussed Kamala Das’ poems during their recent offline meet in Bangalore. It is a response to her poem, A Hot Noon in Malabar. The prompt was to have a similar title and be inspired. I read the poem closely and hence my response is almost a replica, only that I talk of life in the hills and take a more contemporary route adding rebellion and distress over climate change that has adversely affected the hills (along with a little nostalgia).
A HOT NOON IN THE HILLS
This is a noon for hardy women with
Bulging sacks on their backs, a noon
For tea-slurping idle men on their haunches
Taking drags of beedis, rolled in yellow-brown
Tendu leaves, by their many-children-bearing
Hauteur better-halves, weaving baskets, singing
Lilting Himalayan songs of fierce rebellions wrapped
In tree-hugging tales, dripping off rhododendron
Petals, waking from muslin mists strewn on a mile-long
Mall Road stretch, selling strawberries and pallams (plums),
Shawls and patterned topis in (no longer) mild, forgiving
Summers that (now) tie sweaters around waists and carry
Umbrellas, until the evening settles on a scorching
Sun and stars cast away soft blankets because whistling
Winds whisper to the solemn deodars of wild
Traffic on city roads that has melted, this hot noon into
My hills, and I so far away, singing Sisyphean songs of
Rebellion.
**************************************************************************
Discover more from A Hundred Quills
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
A Hundred Quills 