The Scarecrow’s Tongue

scarecrow-madras-courier
Representational illustration: Public domain.
This cryptic, poignant poem rebels against the norm & challenges the singularity of linguistic conventions.

Languages are
breathing scarecrows.
In its achromatic iris
brittle time creases.

Its syntax leaps
in the images
of no man’s land.

Not in the land of
ignorant grammatical
nuances but
the singular promised land
where
we had only one tongue!

Suddenly silver words of
postcolonial ancientness
were dispersed into
algebraic Astellas.

Its blood is special.
Its flesh is pellucid.

The moment scarecrows
start speaking; all your
fraud cadences will collapse.

The Parables of a Scarecrow
violate all the theories
of your unwrinkled tales!

Blond history
of rootless shadows
muttered only
complaints.

Cordial lies were
cooked with negotiations
by poets of revenge.

I lick the fingers which are
like burning trees
and

s
w
a
l
l
o
w

the tongues of fire
and
get burnt and burnt.

Scarecrow’s words blot
with a shameless
underlings of unforgettable egos.

If njattevela* can’t be stolen
What can’t it do?
SCARECROW WONDERS!

Scarecrow opens its eyes!
As if like a Philomela
with a phantom tongue,
it screamed and screamed:
‘I’m not a robot’.

I’m
not
a
robot!

———————————— 

*Njattuvela means ‘Vela of Njayar’, which means the journey of the sun. It  is an ancient system that prevailed in Kerala for the calculation of specific periods for cultivation.There is an interesting historical anecdote from the annals of the Zamorin’s court captures the sentiment every Malayali feels about Thiruvathira (star-astronomy) Njattuvela.As the Portugese landed on the coast of Kozhikode, Kerala, and visited the Zamorin’s court, they were greeted by a resplendent and welcoming nobility. During this time the Portugese were given the permission or rather they coerced the Zamorin into giving them the knowledge of exporting and planting pepper saplings to other territories. Zamorin’s minister, Mangattachan, vexed by this move raised his concerns with Zamorin. To this the Zamorin replied, “ they (the Portugese), can take the pepper saplings but not our Thiruvathira Njattuvela”

***

Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at [email protected].

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