The Paani and the Kalappaan

I see Palmyrahs and hear the Singing Fish

In my home garden.

There's a peninsula that differentiates the north

And a lagoon that symbolises the east.

The smell of fresh tobacco in the northern corner

And roasted cashew nuts in the east end.

There's an abundance of love seeds,

Saplings of admiration and respect,

Fruits and yams of sacrifice,

But few weeds of prejudice too.

The troublesome days in the garden

Have witnessed uproars of local pride

And have learned the heights of stereotypes.

Red rice remained a mystery in the east

Until the diabetologist normalised it yesterday,

And white rice with curd, is still an anomaly in the north.

The different dialects of the same mother language

Has remained a point to make fun of

And to ridicule the other side.

The Paani and the Kalappaan;

The two brothers of the same geography

But from the two different cottages,

Still search for their differences,

Amidst their chromosomes of similarities.

Their mothers complain

That the eastern daughters who went for learning

Are lost within the stern palmyrah fences

With their sweet lullabies of words,

And the northern sons who went for earning

Are disappeared in the furrows of the sun rising paddy fields,

Glued to the weaved mats of hospitality.

The gossips say,

"The one who came in the morning train to the sun rising land,

Calls the one who reached in the evening,

By the so-called tag, "Paani,"

And the Kalappaan who went searching for a desk, towards the north,

For disseminating knowledge,

Came back rejected.

Their sisters believe,

That anything Mathematical and Logical

Was born among the northern vineyards

And anything Aesthetic and Kinaesthetic

Grew among the fresh eastern dairies.

Among the bushes in between these cottages

The brothers couldn't agree on one thing

After three decades of faithfulness.

And my paternal nerves were warned of the danger

By the caring cousins and friends.

As the fumes of regionalism began spreading,

The news of the hurried evacuations reached my ears.

I stood at my gate, wondering,

Where to stand in the garden.

I have both, the peninsula and the lagoon,

In my blood, bones and flesh,

Preserved in my body

My Thaayagam had given me.