Media-shy
Just one look
at this coast's twisted
casuarina and coconut groves
pebble-strewn beaches
rock-scarred boats
and battered faces
with vacant eyes, says
this is living cyclone country.
One came
and in the whisk of its eye
towed anchored thousand-tonners away
drowned hundreds of fishermen
and provided pyres
of battered boats
for the aged and young
who drowned ashore.
Another was forecast
with bigger waves
scope for better news copy
depth of field for gorier footage
expectations of more dead –
calling veteran scribes
(laden with thermoses and hip-flasks)
like fresh garbage calls dogs.
The cyclone didn't keep its date
it went elsewhere
drowned some more fishermen
battered some more boats
on some other coast
not watched,
not reported live.
Was it moved to pity
or was it just media-shy?
Banyan Square
It's eight years now
since they cut its main trunk
pulled out all smaller ones
and paved the world of its roots.
There has been progress since,
the vegetable vend is bigger,
the shops are now permanent;
open-air barbers have come together
to open all-weather saloons;
marble and top champions
now dream of chances in
college's cricket elevens.
There has been progress since:
a concrete dais has come up
for political speeches,
Dharnas, protests and sit-ins.
The Pater Familias is no more
than whimsical breeze gone with the wind,
there's some puny leader's lifeless statue,
where that massive trunk once lived.
Yet, as a memory the Banyan survives
for the square's known after it still.
Avid motorcycle tourer and amateur photographer, Anand Vishwanadha lives in Hyderabad (India) where, apart from writing poetry, he works as an advertising copywriter and corporate communications consultant. His debut poetry collection, "Moving On," was published by Coucal Books in December 2009. Anand blogs (a bit) at www.thisandthatandmuse.blogspot.com. The book can be ordered online (within India) HERE.
Just one look
at this coast's twisted
casuarina and coconut groves
pebble-strewn beaches
rock-scarred boats
and battered faces
with vacant eyes, says
this is living cyclone country.
One came
and in the whisk of its eye
towed anchored thousand-tonners away
drowned hundreds of fishermen
and provided pyres
of battered boats
for the aged and young
who drowned ashore.
Another was forecast
with bigger waves
scope for better news copy
depth of field for gorier footage
expectations of more dead –
calling veteran scribes
(laden with thermoses and hip-flasks)
like fresh garbage calls dogs.
The cyclone didn't keep its date
it went elsewhere
drowned some more fishermen
battered some more boats
on some other coast
not watched,
not reported live.
Was it moved to pity
or was it just media-shy?
Banyan Square
It's eight years now
since they cut its main trunk
pulled out all smaller ones
and paved the world of its roots.
There has been progress since,
the vegetable vend is bigger,
the shops are now permanent;
open-air barbers have come together
to open all-weather saloons;
marble and top champions
now dream of chances in
college's cricket elevens.
There has been progress since:
a concrete dais has come up
for political speeches,
Dharnas, protests and sit-ins.
The Pater Familias is no more
than whimsical breeze gone with the wind,
there's some puny leader's lifeless statue,
where that massive trunk once lived.
Yet, as a memory the Banyan survives
for the square's known after it still.
Avid motorcycle tourer and amateur photographer, Anand Vishwanadha lives in Hyderabad (India) where, apart from writing poetry, he works as an advertising copywriter and corporate communications consultant. His debut poetry collection, "Moving On," was published by Coucal Books in December 2009. Anand blogs (a bit) at www.thisandthatandmuse.blogspot.com. The book can be ordered online (within India) HERE.
