Obedience Poem by Anuradha Bhattacharyya

Today at 6pm I took out my car
And wheeled it to the nearest bend,
Took a turnabout and brought home again.
I parked it back at the same spot,
As if nothing has changed, nothing alas
Is going to alter its uselessness
In these devastating days.

Yesterday, when the whistle was heard
For the first time coming from the next cut,
Putting my shoes on
I waited patiently outside my door
Not a step further out, nope, not even to the gate.
I stood with a basket, a crumpled bunch of notes,
A thumping heart and a mask on my nose.

Tomorrow again I will sweep the floor,
Cook dal-chawal and wash the dishes,
Take the usual cup of ginger tea to bed
Without biscuits, without chips
And probably the day after, I'd not have enough
Ginger to add or my tea leaves would finish
But I'd not venture out to the grocery store.

And all this comes with a meager hope
That my little drop of duty
Complies with the immense measure of obedience
That all those others
In the streets and hospitals are showing
To orders from the government, order from the Lord
And permission from the heart.