SAINT THOMAS (VERSES 15-28)
Mark Traill
13 March 2008, 04:53Old bus bouncing upstream
In hazy daylight
Burdened with peasants
That smile patiently
On seats of shaking stone
Which irritates the hell
Out of Saint Thomas’ bones
Who prays that Hampi
Is an improvement on
Hospetta, Hospetta
With reassurances that
Its character building
And this trip will only get better
Hospetta, Hospetta does not exist
When Chandra sways her delicate hips
To the lilting sound of mama’s brood
Who rents out her room
In the dark of the moon
Hospetta, Hospetta, disappears
Before Usha awakens
With proclamation
“…I
…Am
…Here?”
“What is your name?”
Asks mama, and I tell her
And mama says I’m beautiful,
“Like the Saint,
Have you a rupee
And your passport number?
Goooood!
Its room number 8”
Should be dreaming but
Instead wait up
Smoke Gold Flake
Drink Thumbs Up
In unspoken quarters
Never to be shared
With an Asian daughter
In Womb number 8
A thousand candles
Can’t touch the walls
Of Mama’s house
In Karnataka
Nowhere
In particular
Hospetta, Hospetta
I said your name twice
Because I can’t believe
My luck
I am stuck
In Hospetta
Hospetta
Smooth boulders scroll
In the gold crimson bowl
The kingdom Vijayanagara
My soles walked red
Beneath my toes a dynasty of
Forgotten Maharajas
Rusty soil, bloodied by war
North and South, rich and poor
To drape a new guise
In this finite life
Devastation and harmony
Masala and spiced
I exhale
The ruins of Hampi
An excavated town
With internet access
For the village of a thousand
Where memory serves injustice
To the stark stones
Which clutter the hills
And the gods in their homes
Sit and listen
To the invocations
Of tourists like me
Befuddled with pills
The natives hassle
And some just smile
A shrivelled sadhu
Whispers to the mad elephant
Restless with chains and makeup
Shiva resting
In his tired trunk
Distracted by a youth
With an unblemished face
“Hey, English!” he shouts
“Take me as your son!
I show you my temples!
You put rice in my mouth?”
No peace for this
Happy boy, Shankara
No taller than my wrist
Who calls me “Mr Sex”
Though he’s never had a kiss
“Pay for me, Mr Sex!”
(Not like the saint)
And I tell him
“You are charming, but a beggar still
And you must earn your rupees
Make me smile;
Entertain me”
“A game of cricket is what you need
The only thing good
In your country!”
Allah’s laughing children
Playing to the gallery of idols
Their balls fly in crescents
To sanctuaries untold
Excited, I scramble in the red dust
To the house of the Monkey
But Hanuman is not home
Instead I see Baba
And he’s smoking alone
“Good to see you again
It’s only been days
Did you see the Saint
Or have you changed your ways?”
“Eh? Oh…yeah…nice…gotta light…?
…gotta chillum ‘ere…fancy a bite…?”
…boom shankar…that’s better…
…what’s that again…a saint…?
Naaah…didn’t see ‘im…I’m gonna aquaint..
Myself…with mine all too soon…
…His name is hydrochloride…he’ll send ya to the moon…”
Charas is purchased
For my evenings alone
From a man and his wife
In a home
Where his family
Do not pay heed
To the notice boards
In Hampi
Stating: Never smoke weed
“Rule number 7. Possession,
Exchange or consumption
Of any Narcotic
Is punishable
In India
Under narcotic
Drugs and psychotropic
Substances act
Of 1985”
Who cares? Smoke deep
It makes me feel alive
Dream of my kingdom
Wake up, discover
That yes, she does exist
I am a Saint, I am blessed
In the south
Only dreams of
Vijayanagara
Are found inside my mouth
Only three hours sleep
And I don’t feel fine
My chest is all tight
But at least I’m not blind
Shrivelled Sadhu
Friends with Ganesh
Onward to Madhya –
Another Pradesh
