(: Advertisement for Silver Dollars on the Radio)
No worn green slips of paper, these,
Regarded with a trucker’s disdain, at
The McDonald’s drive-thru.
Each lowly dollar’s a pristine silver coin
Of unearthly gleam and heft,
Almost filling her calloused, clutching palm.
Twelve buy a bag of wheat flour-
Enough chapattis for a month.
Eight, a bag of rice. Three
A sac of potatoes for a week. Twenty
Will travel to India
To buy mom’s medicines for a month.
She chases them along the
Soft-brushed streets of America.
They keep scurrying away, like
Demonic, discovered wheels.
She keeps after them, worried sick
They will fall into gutters,
Be lost to the belly of her family.
Each evening as she lands home, she
Pulls out each dollar with reverence. The kitchen
Will be warm for today.
The unemployed husband and son
Regard her jealously.
Milind Padki
Tenafly, NJ.
02/12/12
Monday, February 13, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
क्रूरता
मग येईल क्रूरता.
आधी हृदयात येईल. चेहऱ्यावर दिसणारही नाही अजिबात.
मात्र धर्मग्रंथातील व्याख्यांमध्ये ती संघटित केली जाईल.
मग इतिहासात,आणि भविष्यवाण्यांमध्ये.
..हळूहळू ती जनतेचा आदर्श बनेल,
-संस्कृतीचा एक प्रमुख भाग बनेल,आणि
तिच्या विरोधाचे सामर्थ्य कोणातच
शिल्लक राहिलेले नसेल.
प्रयत्न एवढाच राहील की तिचे रूप
अधिकाधिक सभ्य आणि इतिहास-मान्य कसे बनवता येईल.
आणि अशीही शक्यता आहे की
क्रूरता येईल आपल्यात, आणि
बराच काळ
आपल्याला समजणारही नाही
तिचे घडलेले आगमन!
xxx
: भाषांतर: मिलिंद पदकी:
(श्री कुमार अंबुज यांच्या "क्रूरता" या हिंदी कवितेचे भाषांतर).
आधी हृदयात येईल. चेहऱ्यावर दिसणारही नाही अजिबात.
मात्र धर्मग्रंथातील व्याख्यांमध्ये ती संघटित केली जाईल.
मग इतिहासात,आणि भविष्यवाण्यांमध्ये.
..हळूहळू ती जनतेचा आदर्श बनेल,
-संस्कृतीचा एक प्रमुख भाग बनेल,आणि
तिच्या विरोधाचे सामर्थ्य कोणातच
शिल्लक राहिलेले नसेल.
प्रयत्न एवढाच राहील की तिचे रूप
अधिकाधिक सभ्य आणि इतिहास-मान्य कसे बनवता येईल.
आणि अशीही शक्यता आहे की
क्रूरता येईल आपल्यात, आणि
बराच काळ
आपल्याला समजणारही नाही
तिचे घडलेले आगमन!
xxx
: भाषांतर: मिलिंद पदकी:
(श्री कुमार अंबुज यांच्या "क्रूरता" या हिंदी कवितेचे भाषांतर).
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
The Diamond Merchant’s Wife
Of the fabled wives of
Diamond merchants of India, it is
Said that the perfect flair of their
Hips and the carnal sponginess of their
Skins sets off such a glare
That their husbands hide them
From the very Sun’s stare
In lush, labyrinthine sanctums.
There is lore that they have
Affairs with their hirsute drivers.
But such lore is neither here nor there.
One such luminous creature of light
Lays her head on my dashboard, cries,
Her long story, a nasty, miserable plight
Is that upon landing on these shores, her
Husband soon took off with a trashy
Woman, a maid, whose “skanky ass “
She should have kicked out long ago and likewise
Ground her “shameless bust” into dust.
But she didn’t, and here she was, alone
With a daughter to feed with dry bread crust.
She comes up for air, smiles at
Me wanly, blots her eyelids with the proffered
Tissue, says let’s go, Doctor Sahib, I am
Wasting your time and you must be
Hungry.
I am her American employer. Tonight
She will make chapattis for me, fold
The laundry, clean the pantry
Inform me if I am out of eggs.
She brings out my cup of
Tea, fragrant with ginger, cardamom,
Nutmeg. As my cockles warm, I
Slowly avert my gaze from
All the wasted lavishness, puttering
Around on my Spartan floor.
Xxx
Diamond merchants of India, it is
Said that the perfect flair of their
Hips and the carnal sponginess of their
Skins sets off such a glare
That their husbands hide them
From the very Sun’s stare
In lush, labyrinthine sanctums.
There is lore that they have
Affairs with their hirsute drivers.
But such lore is neither here nor there.
One such luminous creature of light
Lays her head on my dashboard, cries,
Her long story, a nasty, miserable plight
Is that upon landing on these shores, her
Husband soon took off with a trashy
Woman, a maid, whose “skanky ass “
She should have kicked out long ago and likewise
Ground her “shameless bust” into dust.
But she didn’t, and here she was, alone
With a daughter to feed with dry bread crust.
She comes up for air, smiles at
Me wanly, blots her eyelids with the proffered
Tissue, says let’s go, Doctor Sahib, I am
Wasting your time and you must be
Hungry.
I am her American employer. Tonight
She will make chapattis for me, fold
The laundry, clean the pantry
Inform me if I am out of eggs.
She brings out my cup of
Tea, fragrant with ginger, cardamom,
Nutmeg. As my cockles warm, I
Slowly avert my gaze from
All the wasted lavishness, puttering
Around on my Spartan floor.
Xxx
These Days
When as a cotton ball he
Bounced up to them, the birds
Smiled before they scattered in joy.
Now as a big-boned cat he has
Mortally wounded the stray bird, and
As it flails around in panic in the
Room, he watches it with a beady eye to
Finish it off. "Disgusting animal, He
Wants to eat it”, my daughter says
While chewing on a chicken drumstick. Her
Homework has Boolean algebra, Women's Studies,
Museum of Modern Art in New York where
She can admit me as a companion at
Half price.
I dye my beard with small portions of
The pack to make it last. I have shiny
Sneakers for a walking program in
The future. I eye them proudly. I carry
Lunch in pale yellow store's bags. At
Work they whisper He has been with
Bay and Maker's for donkey's years.
Recruited by the old man himself, I hear.
He is a quite sort. Keeps to himself.
A poetry freak of some kind , they say. No,
I have not seen his work, Heaven forbid!
XXX
Milind Padki
Tenafly, NJ.
02/07/2012
Bounced up to them, the birds
Smiled before they scattered in joy.
Now as a big-boned cat he has
Mortally wounded the stray bird, and
As it flails around in panic in the
Room, he watches it with a beady eye to
Finish it off. "Disgusting animal, He
Wants to eat it”, my daughter says
While chewing on a chicken drumstick. Her
Homework has Boolean algebra, Women's Studies,
Museum of Modern Art in New York where
She can admit me as a companion at
Half price.
I dye my beard with small portions of
The pack to make it last. I have shiny
Sneakers for a walking program in
The future. I eye them proudly. I carry
Lunch in pale yellow store's bags. At
Work they whisper He has been with
Bay and Maker's for donkey's years.
Recruited by the old man himself, I hear.
He is a quite sort. Keeps to himself.
A poetry freak of some kind , they say. No,
I have not seen his work, Heaven forbid!
XXX
Milind Padki
Tenafly, NJ.
02/07/2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
Rush Hour
From the stark manicured trees lining this vast flat
Surface, little monkeys will not drop
Like fruit. The fallen fruit will not
Scurry away.
Peanut sat on the railroad track
His heart was all a-flutter
Round the bend came Number 10,
Choo, choo, PEANUT BUTTER!
Because he liked sliced bread of a
Certain straitlaced geometry,
White Man built this freeway.
When it gets crowded and eyes of
A man and a woman meet across windshields,
Sparks of lust fly. He is getting out
At the next exit,
She is driving to Pennsylvania.
(Thus, little monkeys do not drop like fruit.) Ripe
Apples fall from the trees and ferment, thick
Male deer feast on them, hunt the female.
The parapet wall along the
Asphalt keeps the happy deer from the
Traffic. Men in dark suits, goatees,
Women doing lipstick in
The rearview mirror drive at sixty-eight
And a half miles per hour.
In spanking blue
Cars snarling white policemen
Chomp on donuts, radios cackling,
Wal-Mart trucks stomp out
Squirrels.
It’s rush hour on the New Jersey turnpike.
XXX
Milind Padki
Piscataway, NJ
01/09/2012
Surface, little monkeys will not drop
Like fruit. The fallen fruit will not
Scurry away.
Peanut sat on the railroad track
His heart was all a-flutter
Round the bend came Number 10,
Choo, choo, PEANUT BUTTER!
Because he liked sliced bread of a
Certain straitlaced geometry,
White Man built this freeway.
When it gets crowded and eyes of
A man and a woman meet across windshields,
Sparks of lust fly. He is getting out
At the next exit,
She is driving to Pennsylvania.
(Thus, little monkeys do not drop like fruit.) Ripe
Apples fall from the trees and ferment, thick
Male deer feast on them, hunt the female.
The parapet wall along the
Asphalt keeps the happy deer from the
Traffic. Men in dark suits, goatees,
Women doing lipstick in
The rearview mirror drive at sixty-eight
And a half miles per hour.
In spanking blue
Cars snarling white policemen
Chomp on donuts, radios cackling,
Wal-Mart trucks stomp out
Squirrels.
It’s rush hour on the New Jersey turnpike.
XXX
Milind Padki
Piscataway, NJ
01/09/2012
Song of the Immigrant Indian
1. An incident at midnight on the streets of Mumbai, India:
Down on the sidewalk, at the consulate’s doors,
Seeking a visa for America’s shores,
Lay wanna-be immigrants, making no fuss
Hoods on a motorbike addressed them thus:
“Going to America? Are ye all fools?
Whore will chew you out, breaking all rules.
Stay at home here, life here’s sunny,
Eat with the family, with love and ceremony.
For America is a country so funky,
You eat like a monkey, and work like a donkey!”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
2. Manubhai at the Statue of Liberty:
“Don’t ever call her the “Beckoning Whore”,
Believe in America’s abiding lore,
“Work, work hard, and then work some more”
Is the way to success and gold coin galore!”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
3. Manubhai working at a Dunkin Donut:
“All through the night, in old Fords clunky,
Weird people come, colorful and funky,
Once in while: a heroin junky
Saved by Ganesha, I manage this Dunky.”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
4. Manubhai buys a truckers’ motel:
“Joe truck driver brings in a lass,
Low on money, but brimming with sass,
And lo-and- behold, once in a while,
Joe brings in a young man virile!”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
5. Manubhai, Five-Star Hotel magnate, billionaire:
“Capitalism’s a system rather funny,
Taught me my Dad’s friend “Uncle” Johnny,
With other peoples’ brains and other peoples’ money,
You make your bread, and lot and lots of honey!”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
6. In his multimillion dollar home, Manubhai has left for his heavenly abode. All gather around:
“Manubhai has left, and taken his wages,
Gather the priests, and Saffron-Clad sages,
Far from the village, in Diaspora’s pages,
Manubhai will shine for infinite ages!”
Chorus starts again:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
Xxxxx
Milind Padki
Brookhaven, NY
07/20/2010
Down on the sidewalk, at the consulate’s doors,
Seeking a visa for America’s shores,
Lay wanna-be immigrants, making no fuss
Hoods on a motorbike addressed them thus:
“Going to America? Are ye all fools?
Whore will chew you out, breaking all rules.
Stay at home here, life here’s sunny,
Eat with the family, with love and ceremony.
For America is a country so funky,
You eat like a monkey, and work like a donkey!”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
2. Manubhai at the Statue of Liberty:
“Don’t ever call her the “Beckoning Whore”,
Believe in America’s abiding lore,
“Work, work hard, and then work some more”
Is the way to success and gold coin galore!”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
3. Manubhai working at a Dunkin Donut:
“All through the night, in old Fords clunky,
Weird people come, colorful and funky,
Once in while: a heroin junky
Saved by Ganesha, I manage this Dunky.”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
4. Manubhai buys a truckers’ motel:
“Joe truck driver brings in a lass,
Low on money, but brimming with sass,
And lo-and- behold, once in a while,
Joe brings in a young man virile!”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
5. Manubhai, Five-Star Hotel magnate, billionaire:
“Capitalism’s a system rather funny,
Taught me my Dad’s friend “Uncle” Johnny,
With other peoples’ brains and other peoples’ money,
You make your bread, and lot and lots of honey!”
Chorus:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
6. In his multimillion dollar home, Manubhai has left for his heavenly abode. All gather around:
“Manubhai has left, and taken his wages,
Gather the priests, and Saffron-Clad sages,
Far from the village, in Diaspora’s pages,
Manubhai will shine for infinite ages!”
Chorus starts again:
America is a country so funky,
Eat like a monkey and work like a donkey!
Xxxxx
Milind Padki
Brookhaven, NY
07/20/2010
Monday, January 2, 2012
The Molecule from Parsippany, NJ:A tragedy in three parts
Citing increased stiffness in the heart muscle as the cause
We die of, Scientist devised this wondrous chopper of the stiff links, a small
Molecule: a slap in the face of Nature. “Hey, You up there, Grand Saboteur, See this and
despair!”, He declaimed, raising the vial to
Light. Tale is told in The Proceedings of the
National Academy Of Sciences of how
He injected the molecule into seventy-human-years-old rabbits,
Dogs and mice, and how they had changed
Into eighteen year olds, supple, nubile and grateful.
What is not documented, but belongs to lore is as follows:
As Scientist lifted Al Moussa, the mouse, by his thick
Neck pad, Al Moussa spoke with a grave, bearded dignity:
It’s not the syringe that I mind, the hour or
Two of pain of an intra-peritoneal injection, or the chow
Designed for rabbits: a slower, slothful species. Bulbs in this Lab are
Radiant enough, though I did discern a vaster globe the other day. My primary
Objection is to being rejuvenated, having this, this thing done
To me all over again: The muscles slowly aging, sexual powers fading,
Macular degeneration setting in a second time.
I have walked my own narrow razor sharp path. I was well
On my way to the radiant. Isn’t it time I went home?
Scientist, equally bearded and grave, pressed the syringe plunger
home and responded thus:
“The earth is home and radiant enough. I recognize no other. As to
Your query of ‘Is this necessary’: Yes, we hawk these things. There are those
Among us who want this thing to continue. Some want it infinitely for
Reasons best known to themselves. Sex, probably.
Or even better and better chow. I don’t know. Some love their
Children, others: the oxygen-laden air. They will buy. Juvenon, Inc. will make
Money. Even I will make money.”
Al Moussa, wincing with the pain of injection, fell silent.
Dreams of Ali Khargosh, the Rabbit:
Vast flat land, the grass succulent, green and alkalizing. Millions
Of my tiny white children swarming across. None of them age,
None have stiffening heart muscles: these are
Supple forever with Scientist’s injections. The kids keep frolicking,
Frolicking. This rocks.
Soliloquy by Al Moussa, rejuvenated: I
Have been here before: The air breathes more intense. Each
Bite of rabbit chow is heaven. DNA crud gone from muscles. To
Ride this wheel: What a trip, even with the Chinese post-doc
Stopwatching me. Oh for some females, even quasi-young like me
(Mentally Mature is better, actually). This is how it always was, and will
Be. Help! Am I turning into a steady-stater? Was always a
Big-banger [Not what the females said, but we will let that pass].
I could get used to this.
And thusly, there were great revelries amongst the DNA-and water-based creatures.
Alas: the latest arrival on the scene, the most efficient killer and the animal
Hoarding all gold: Homo Sapiens, had this creaking multi-cellularity, fraught
With plumbing problems, and anything entering his blood, he first
Tended to burn for food - better uses notwithstanding.
Also God, in His Infinite Mercy and Wisdom, did not want him to burn in
Unstructured lust forever: Thus the FDA,
A deus ex machina if ever there was one, frowned
upon the human trial,
Citing low probability of meeting the clinical end-points(!),
The stock fell and the company folded. But lore also maintains that
Three thousand radiant vials sit in the vaults of a Financial
Institution and during the trial, entire sections of
Route 80 over which vials of the molecule passed glowed
For weeks on end.
(03/09/06, Elmwood Park, NJ)
We die of, Scientist devised this wondrous chopper of the stiff links, a small
Molecule: a slap in the face of Nature. “Hey, You up there, Grand Saboteur, See this and
despair!”, He declaimed, raising the vial to
Light. Tale is told in The Proceedings of the
National Academy Of Sciences of how
He injected the molecule into seventy-human-years-old rabbits,
Dogs and mice, and how they had changed
Into eighteen year olds, supple, nubile and grateful.
What is not documented, but belongs to lore is as follows:
As Scientist lifted Al Moussa, the mouse, by his thick
Neck pad, Al Moussa spoke with a grave, bearded dignity:
It’s not the syringe that I mind, the hour or
Two of pain of an intra-peritoneal injection, or the chow
Designed for rabbits: a slower, slothful species. Bulbs in this Lab are
Radiant enough, though I did discern a vaster globe the other day. My primary
Objection is to being rejuvenated, having this, this thing done
To me all over again: The muscles slowly aging, sexual powers fading,
Macular degeneration setting in a second time.
I have walked my own narrow razor sharp path. I was well
On my way to the radiant. Isn’t it time I went home?
Scientist, equally bearded and grave, pressed the syringe plunger
home and responded thus:
“The earth is home and radiant enough. I recognize no other. As to
Your query of ‘Is this necessary’: Yes, we hawk these things. There are those
Among us who want this thing to continue. Some want it infinitely for
Reasons best known to themselves. Sex, probably.
Or even better and better chow. I don’t know. Some love their
Children, others: the oxygen-laden air. They will buy. Juvenon, Inc. will make
Money. Even I will make money.”
Al Moussa, wincing with the pain of injection, fell silent.
Dreams of Ali Khargosh, the Rabbit:
Vast flat land, the grass succulent, green and alkalizing. Millions
Of my tiny white children swarming across. None of them age,
None have stiffening heart muscles: these are
Supple forever with Scientist’s injections. The kids keep frolicking,
Frolicking. This rocks.
Soliloquy by Al Moussa, rejuvenated: I
Have been here before: The air breathes more intense. Each
Bite of rabbit chow is heaven. DNA crud gone from muscles. To
Ride this wheel: What a trip, even with the Chinese post-doc
Stopwatching me. Oh for some females, even quasi-young like me
(Mentally Mature is better, actually). This is how it always was, and will
Be. Help! Am I turning into a steady-stater? Was always a
Big-banger [Not what the females said, but we will let that pass].
I could get used to this.
And thusly, there were great revelries amongst the DNA-and water-based creatures.
Alas: the latest arrival on the scene, the most efficient killer and the animal
Hoarding all gold: Homo Sapiens, had this creaking multi-cellularity, fraught
With plumbing problems, and anything entering his blood, he first
Tended to burn for food - better uses notwithstanding.
Also God, in His Infinite Mercy and Wisdom, did not want him to burn in
Unstructured lust forever: Thus the FDA,
A deus ex machina if ever there was one, frowned
upon the human trial,
Citing low probability of meeting the clinical end-points(!),
The stock fell and the company folded. But lore also maintains that
Three thousand radiant vials sit in the vaults of a Financial
Institution and during the trial, entire sections of
Route 80 over which vials of the molecule passed glowed
For weeks on end.
(03/09/06, Elmwood Park, NJ)
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