Two Societies Poem by santhana louis

Just outside Ballygunge station
unclean, poorly-lit Terminal Bus stand,
Tramways starts by the ‘West End' side
cheap products are on sale, on the pavements
till you criss-cross at Gariahat market.

after hard bargain, I bought a pair
of shoes for only rupees ninety
used pair, repeat, used pair
but at sight, ex-factory nice finish

this pair was to be used for the rainy season
when I tread through knee deep sledge & water
over flowing from the side drains
on the way to my Kasba line quarter

on the second floor roof, an asbestos shed
hall, kitchen, bath room - all of them of same size
Hoogly water pours in plenty, dirty & narrow stair-case
eighty years- strong two story building - housing
in total, six families, cramped & sandwiched

Top shed is my residence, overlooking congested by-lanes
Lakhs of Biharis as labourers or small time sellers
Pani puri, sonepapdi vendors, chai dukan, all sort peddlers
hard toilers indeed,
raath ka khana apna parivar ke sath sirf, kushi and hasin se

in once August, due to heavy rains, Kasba tasted its worst flood
those families on down floors had moved on to the top floor
with ‘quila ka choolas', provisions & essentials and generous heart
tarpaulin pardhas, centralized kitchen, on the line of a relief camp

for the next seven days, we had the feeling of togetherness
resembling a miniature ‘langar' of Amritsar - sharing and caring,
mehanthi, bhajans, Bhojpuri music, shayari and ‘anthrakshi'

all resources pooled and in unity,
at the face of adversity, we quietly survived.


now, I am in a third floor—flat, in my home town,
on the banks of Cauvery
‘Thane cyclone' rendered our ground floor, menacingly flooded
no sign of help from other comfortable 24 learned, polished
households,
everyone has shut the door tight, sensing the impending ‘nuisance'
which may entail a short forbearance for a few hours duration

unique, callous ‘iron curtain' flat culture -
of others' welfare no concern

I am now reminded of
my poor Bihari neighbourhood,
that too, in a third State
though mostly ‘unpad' (illiterate) ,
their knack of handling a crisis
and sense of universal brotherhood
deserve all time applause
and of worthy remembrance.