You want to be in a mall and I want to live in a heritage site.
The former phases out with time, the latter’s existence is to battle it.
Beyond the ego, bewilderment, pain; are questions.
The problem does not lie in physical act of separation, but it lies in its implications.
All our lives we look for indelible marks- ours on others and others on ours.
When dust gathers on it, we move on.
We hate the ayah who snatches us away from something warm and familiar to something cold, wet and oily; all three attack at once on senses.
How cruel we think she is and how we love being wrapped again in shawl and handed back to something warm and familiar, with something warmer and sweeter on our lips down the throat; which fills our centre from within!
Then the first day of school,
Something warm and familiar becomes something distant, alien and she-does-not-understand-me-what-a-nag-i-dont-want-milk-i-want-pocket-money-i-want-maggi-for-tiffin-all-my-friends-get-it....
Ah! The first act of separation....
We find better worlds and better wings.
Then we build malls to be in;
And something warm and familiar lives in heritage sites.
Like seasons, like cycles, like milk teeth, like menstruation,
We behave.
We move on to different worlds building malls and take time out to see heritage sites
Because some one like you builds malls
And some one like me lives in heritage sites.
There are excitements in different worlds to be engrossed in,
While your malls are built.
First pyjama party at Willie’s in standard three when dandee dropped me
Lies somewhere in the debris of heritage sites.
We love scavenging for Willies, the way we love searching for a comet in the sky.
Mall builders like you search for comets
And those living in heritage sites like me; save them in a butterfly trapping glass jar...
There are some people like you who build malls to live in'
And there are some people like me in heritage sites.
The former phases out with time, the latter’s existence is to battle it.
Beyond the ego, bewilderment, pain; are questions.
The problem does not lie in physical act of separation, but it lies in its implications.
All our lives we look for indelible marks- ours on others and others on ours.
When dust gathers on it, we move on.
We hate the ayah who snatches us away from something warm and familiar to something cold, wet and oily; all three attack at once on senses.
How cruel we think she is and how we love being wrapped again in shawl and handed back to something warm and familiar, with something warmer and sweeter on our lips down the throat; which fills our centre from within!
Then the first day of school,
Something warm and familiar becomes something distant, alien and she-does-not-understand-me-what-a-nag-i-dont-want-milk-i-want-pocket-money-i-want-maggi-for-tiffin-all-my-friends-get-it....
Ah! The first act of separation....
We find better worlds and better wings.
Then we build malls to be in;
And something warm and familiar lives in heritage sites.
Like seasons, like cycles, like milk teeth, like menstruation,
We behave.
We move on to different worlds building malls and take time out to see heritage sites
Because some one like you builds malls
And some one like me lives in heritage sites.
There are excitements in different worlds to be engrossed in,
While your malls are built.
First pyjama party at Willie’s in standard three when dandee dropped me
Lies somewhere in the debris of heritage sites.
We love scavenging for Willies, the way we love searching for a comet in the sky.
Mall builders like you search for comets
And those living in heritage sites like me; save them in a butterfly trapping glass jar...
There are some people like you who build malls to live in'
And there are some people like me in heritage sites.
