I WANT TO DIE TODAY

 The recent spate of suicides among young talented human beings shows our shallow approach to the issue of mental especially in the media. They take their travelling circus across networks searching for sensationalism, carrying out their trials before even the courts get into the act! There is no attempt to focus on mental health issues and all we hear are idiotic opinions that trivialize mental health!

NOBODY, NOBODY KNOWS! We do not know the demons, real or imagined, that drive a human being to take his or her own life. We can add this to the long line of existential questions - Why are we here? Does life have any meaning? Why do humans take their own lives? etc. etc. 

We can only imagine and this poem is just my imagination and this poem attempts to create that scenario when the fateful event takes place. I, too, do not know and I never will know!

I WANT TO DIE TODAY

I look at my scaffold, ceiling high,
I want to cry, but suppress a sigh,
The dimming light fades to zero,
I realise now I am no shining hero!

One more time I look out my window
At the steeple, dome and minaret,
Edifices of hope, yet I'm sinking low,
Cards are stacked, have to pay my debt!

Teens practice dance and hip-hop,
Only the young can go over the top,
An old man navigates his tomorrows,
Stealing time and moments he borrows!

Mother and child bask in sunshine,
But this is their happiness, not mine,
Stable planet will rotate on its reliable axis,
As surely as people die and pay their taxes!

Thoughts peer over unconsciousness, dark hedges,
Yesterday’s dreams hang at the ends of ledges,
Ghostly winds blow fallen leaves in my tracks,
As for life, it’s over, fallen between the cracks!

Rising to my scaffold for few seconds of free fall,
Some will see greatness, a man ten feet tall,
Others will wonder where my abject failure lay,
When mould was broken, he was made of clay!

Suddenly there will be experts everywhere,
All and sundry will seem to mourn and care,
They will speculate, theorise with indignation,
Slow train of blame stopping at every station!

Mental illness is a maximum security prison,
Seizing one’s being with chills and frisson,
The old man wants to live beyond forever,
Not me. I want to die today. Life’s ties sever.

 

Antonio Rodrigues

 

Uncle John

This one is for Margaret Surin in distant Canada and Samit Datar in equidistant Australia who, coincidentally, lived in the old neighbourhood and always enquired about my lack of writing over the past months. I know it has been a long, long time! 

Disclaimer: All characters in this poem are purely fictional and any reference to persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.


Uncle John

The old biddies in the lobby were all a-twitter,
As they congregated in their social media sphere,
Climbed their moral high horse, declared his ways he will not mend,
And graffitied the building walls, Uncle John has a girlfriend!

Now you would understand if they were teenage girls,
Trilling behind the school shed, Johnny's gone off the bend,
As around him, they create dark, ominous vampire swirls,
For Johnny at ten and sixty was bucking a whole new trend!

Add some more gruesome grist to the rumour cauldron,
Some perched and watched surreptitiously smoulderin'
Hands bound in dirty linen, they stirred like Macbeth's witches,
And clucked, chuckled and tut-tutted like insane bitches!

Uncle John is moonlighting with a broad,
He invites her home, closes windows and doors,
They say he performs ghastly deeds with a rod,
While listening to satanic music on his iPod!

Not so long ago, Johnny was the darling of the community,
He could do no wrong, his mind was tough and strong,
He said his prayers, worshipped at the altar of integrity,
Suddenly, he fell from grace, maligned by this faithless throng!

They shunned his much-maligned society,
They accused him of gross impropriety,
They called to question his sobriety 
And wondered why they were not picked for variety!

Around his business they assumed an air of property,
They informed kit, kin, neighbours and indignant heirs,
Who wondered if they would lose their hefty shares,
You cannot do this, cannot do this, they cried, incessantly!

She was half his age, their parting, sorrowful moans,
The witches gathered, cast the first self-righteous stones,
Uncle John foresaw an empty bed, loneliness in his old age,
As younger men cursed their luck, bit their lips in silent rage!

Antonio

Nobody Knows

I have spent more than two years in a therapeutic daycare centre for human beings who are mentally afflicted and emotionally disturbed but, for the life of me, I cannot even fathom the causes and consequences that afflict them. I try to understand but I fail miserably. All I see are brave attempts to get the remnants of life together, an attempt to stitch a badly assembled tapestry of emotions. This is my attempt at understanding that tapestry! 

NOBODY KNOWS

(Anthem for the mentally afflicted)

They say my own demons I must slay,
But I still can hear the sad music play,
The morning sun burns, is it already day?
May I lie here forgotten if I may?

I asked if it is day because the drawn curtains
Let in a sliver of irritatingly cheerful sunlight,
I cannot escape from dark night's lonesome journey,
The lions are gathering for the gladiators' tourney!

Let me lie here, let me lie here, forever still,
As flies buzz over the carcass of yesterday's dream,
It may sound like some mundane routine drill,
Nobody knows, nobody hears my silent scream!

But tomorrow I will rise in the early morn,
Stare at the sun, like a rooster, greet the dawn,
You will find me bright, shiny and brand-new,
Like a flower with a drop of early morning dew!

You give me the sour, vinegary emotion of hope,
You say I must accept, I must relentlessly cope,
You say you can imagine, you know exactly how I feel,
Your misplaced sense of empathy, I must not steal!

But nobody knows of weights that anchor me to my bed,
The days when my body is leaden with molten dread,
I stay here, my safe haven, my harbour, my bay,
Where I can listen to what the sinister voices say!

I want to set a course from this sheltered quay,
Sail away into unknown waters, uncharted seas,
Navigate in city traffic chaos, hang from local trains,
Ordinary living, ordinary death as ordinary life drains !

Nobody knows, nobody sees the scars I carry,

Go on, ignorant fool, you must not tarry,
Just laugh in your sleeve at this wretched soul,
With your stigma, you push me further down this deep, dark hole!

Antonio

Twilight and Ill Winds

As we begin a new year, looking back at 2014, some events cheered and some events saddened us but none more than the slaughter of little children in Peshawar! One can only shake one's head and hope that better sense prevails in 2015!

Twilight and Ill Winds

Shlok got a new bike this Christmas; waiting round the clock,
Jaden is the fastest kid on training wheels on the block,
Kunal does give him a run for his money, squealing as he rides by,
As Sheldon spills over on his roller skates and rises with a sigh!

Their joyous shouts mingle with the squawking parrots,
As the crows close their agenda and adjourn their conference,
The setting sun, blesses their brows with its golden glow,
As it kisses the day goodbye with a promise tomorrow to show!

In the distant police camp, a lone bugler signs the last post,
A reminder that civilised law must prevail from coast to coast,
Of this life's labours and travails we must extract the most,
So that the preservation of human life is no idle boast!

While those merry sounds enchant and warm our souls,
On our neighbours' forlorn windswept range,
Those tinkling voices are stilled as they lie in cold holes,
Unwilling inheritors of the ill winds of dubious change!

Antonio

A Tale of Two Binks

A TALE OF TWO BINKS

(This poem is a my take on the Jiyo Parsi Scheme! For the uninitiated and those living abroad, this scheme is Government-sponsored and is a brave attempt to increase the Parsi headcount! just thought I'd get a little current after my alcohol-infused past life! All players in this poem are purely fictional and figments of my imagination and any reference to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental  Friends, who know, know who this is addressed to.) 

The fun committee was in a vexing quandary,
A notification had been sent to all and sundry,
Find Parsi mates for your Parsi friends,
To kickstart this campaign and set new trends!

This set them thinking, they had two friends named Binks,
Attractive little ladies after you straighten out the kinks,
The need was urgent, they had to find some strong links,
Before the sun, on the western horizon, sinks!

Now the committee had a gujju and catlick,
Who looked at the crop to make their pick,
Gujju decided that purpose would best be served,
With a union of akoori, jalebi and fafda curved!

"Can you imagine?" the catlick cried,
It won't work even if the gujju tried,
That diet will bring long-term colicky pain,
No flatulent half-Parsis, pure is the new main!

We must search high and not too low,
'Tis time to go and let wild oats sow,
All those bank cashiers have passed on long,
To realms unknown with no dance and song!

Be not soft and gentle, girls, be bold and loud,
You must be part of this Great Indian Crowd,
You must contribute to the nation's population,
By indulging in generous and copious copulation!

Come out, girls, it's not too late,
Sooner or later you have to mate,
Preserve the pure line at any rate,
No matter if appetites do not sate!

Antonio

The Last Word

THE LAST WORD

Do you love me?

Yes.

Why do you love me?

Because.....

Is it because of my brown eyes?

Uh-huh....

Is it because of my translucent skin?

Mm mm...

Is it my long silky hair that attracts you?

Well....

You are not paying any attention to what I am saying!

Will you pay attention to what I am about to say?

I hate when you get all professorial!

Whatever, but when I am with you, love happens!

I hate when you go all existential on me!

Well, the greatest truths are simple but we choose to complicate them! Why?

There you go again....

Antonio

Ode to Alcohol - The Prohibition Years

Ode to Alcohol - The Prohibition Years
(dedicated to Cedric & Mario who turned 18+18+18+6 and Freddy who turned 60, twenty years ago. He was always ahead of his time! By way of disclaimer, all references to persons, living or dead, is purely intentional. Well, we have passed a milestone, let's take a look at the beginnings)

There's no time for anger or long pause in fears,
No time for envy or pride or glycerine tears,
Milestones are swift images seen through a speeding window,
Do not lie low or go slow when alcohol is in full flow!

Alcohol was the answer and covered it all,
The orgasmic peak and the ultimate fall,
As we ride life's roller-coaster, milestones roll by,
And nervous old ladies look at us and sigh!

It all began in a dimly-lit Prohibition-era speakeasy,
Modern-day drinkers would flinch with stomachs queasy,
Dickensian characters, lovable clowns, suspect hooch,
Even after two sips, you dare not give your girl a smooch!

Old aunties, older bartenders, even pretty ones thrown in,
Twilight people living in the glow of streetlight fringe,
Only the faint-hearted would shrink back and cringe,
Welcome one, welcome all to these dens of inequity and sin!

Only a few are chosen, so we were outraged when we saw them there,
Cedric and I looked at each and exclaimed, "How can they dare?",
As older brothers we had to prove a point
So we threw Bob and Bossy out of the joint!

Erotic paintings on the ceiling, linoleum on the floor,
Leave your feelings and shoes outside the door,
In the end, it is difficult your footwear to spy,
While the old ganglord, upon you, casts a mirthful eye!

Then there was Fred, they called him Wrong Said Fred,
He loved his hooch but approached the den with dread,
For Big Brother Tommy would be lurking with one eye on glass
And the other eye trained on Auntie's comely little lass!

One named Mario, to temptation did not succumb,
He preferred to play life by rule of thumb,
But in his home, he stocks nothing but the best,
So we visit to check if his single malts have passed time's test!

Out of such humble beginnings, do habits grow,
And for all one's achievements no prizes to show,
No grandstand, no stage, no Prize Nobel,
This is as far I will go with kiss and tell!

Antonio