Sharing betel
They used to talk,
Of the Suez Canal war
And events of similar sorts
In that pensive, serious
Humorous rural way,
Parts of ‘Janatha’ paper
Read aloud
Radio news listened to
With comments.
In those adult exclusive
Men exclusive talks
A child was only a listener,
Having to carry cups of tea
Or betel occasionally:
I tried to imagine the Suez Canal
(Now I think those adults did the same)
As our own Hamilton-Ela
And dreamed
Sand-carrying wooden boats
Being torpedoed.
(Veto power was what all school
Teachers had.)
Our neighbourhood was divided
Into two, a rich man’s fenced unused
Land in between
Two groups ‘having a sense of separate
Identity’
Now and then leading to fights:
In all wars there are two parties,
As in our divided neighbourhood.
Then came Nineteen Fifty Six,
All were engrossed in listening to
Final results: most were jubilant
Few were sad, as they shared betel,
Lighted crackers:
Some just slept for days
Shy and unhappy.
But their families partook
Of the Kiribath of the victors.
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