Cities

From the first slam I ever did: No meter, no scheme.

I've seen the city change. Skyscraper have scraped the skyline That was ruled by palm groves once upon a time. The river's been blocked by a hydroelectricity project With land rates shooting everyday, mountains have been commissioned to be flattened, with immediate effect. My father, they say laid the foundation stone to this urbanization. Poor fellow, Devram died when a ripe coconut fell on his head. Should have been alive to see this growth no? The old men in the village have often said. Most of the coconut trees have been taken down today. I have a faint memory of Aai standing in her green sadi Offering free coconut water to climbers Who scaled the mountain next to our enormous Waadi. Now the mountains are mostly gone and beer reigns the cities nightlife Clubs are the hotspots, not the temple on the hill. A development that would have scandalized Devram's wife. They ask me why I have still stuck to my old wadi. "Your Baba wanted such high rise apartments, ho?" The land mass is enormous and I have been approached by many builders But my answer has always been no. Most of the rooms stay locked, My father's home office and the servant's cell The oldest coconut tree And a very polluted well "Aai,aai! AAI!" Where was I, the coconut tree in the front And a well in the backyard, And the memory of a mother Pulling hard, for water to take a bath. " Aai don't jump please naa Aai, don't jump listen to me" My Aai turns back on hearing my voice Caught in the act, perhaps She intended to leave without much noise. If she leaves, who'll save me from my father's whippings I think, completely unaware of the scars on her body Of the fact that her bruishes and wounds, Aren't a result of her lie, of falling down the tody. Aai stepped down, Probably stopped by my tears But for the first time in forever, I knew of her fears. For the first time that night I heard her muffled screams And realized I could no longer assign them to bad dreams. I rushed into her room and saw the man named "Devram" my father, with a whip in her hand And my Aai seeping into the ground, in a domestic quicksand "Don't touch my mother. Khabardaar, you monster! I'll kill you!" I ran and clung to his knees Hoping to make him fall. But for a 40 year old devil A child's weight was nothing at all. The next moment I found my self flung into the front yard Followed by Aai's bloodcurdling shriek My father advanced me, I shrunk in terror And shut my eyes prepared for another kick But the kick never came and when I finally opened my eyes Blood covered the ground A coconut in Aai's hand Baba dead without a sound. The news never made rounds No one ever found out. "Poor fellow, Devram died when a ripe coconut fell on his head. Should have been alive to see this growth no?" They've built a city hospital in my father's name. And I've kept the well intact, a monument of shame. The coconut tree, the wadi, A memory of my Aai's courage. I have seen the city grow, But I don't leave the village. Shared from Google Keep