Gira Gadi

It is a cold wind gushing past rays of warm sunshine,              

   Bunch of men driving broken bikes down ragged paths. 

      Trees stare down their hollow souls, 

           Silent hills glare at the valley where 

             No man's network lasts. 

               Hornbills scatter Dandeli landscape. 

                 Death glanced at red waters split from source.

                   Drenched, he yelled gastric cries since elbow skin now nowhere exist. 

                        Call the waters, the leaves dead drying, 

                              See the son of the forest. 

                                          See the sons and daughters of glee dying. 

                                                         Behold! No one sees their passage along gnarly woods, 

                                                                          Along the tarred rasta panthers slyly shy slay. 

                                                                                                       He looks above to see clear skies stare below, 

                                                                                                                                         God watches his spirit breathe fainter by the second. 

                                                                                                                                                                                   Say what you will, but to these weary soul these roads beckon. 

                                                                                                                                                                                              A goat lies bleeding. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                        This my monstrous trail devours the unseeing eye, 

                                                                                                                                                                                                               The burdens of which drown eyes to slumber. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                     Gravel marked path that curves to the Kali, 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                          Where fallen trees greet rubber circles he can’t hold himself. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                              A growl here, a scream there, where the gloovery of the village sees death. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Creeper-ridden viewpoints whose bricks mossy green, 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Breeding calls and bloody isolation. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                               See the slithering ropes choke apes, 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                           The dreadful daari invited him as

                                                                                                                                                                                                                  Flowery yellow pride washed over the subtle sense of safety. 

                                                                                                                                                                                             Pride comes before the fall. 

                                                                                                                                                                      Fall of the son of man. 

                                                                                                                                               The monkeys watch, snakes hiss. Birds swoop down. 

                                                                                                                      A flowing stream of red blood cells guide the fauna to the body…

                                                                                                                      Mi-oh-chay.

Author’s notes:

The poem is to be viewed on a wide screen as it accommodates its structure (for which purpose the font size is minimized). The structure of the poem resembles that of a road. This is where I tried to experiment. I also included words from other languages. The poem is about a road in the Dandeli wildlife sanctuary where I was injured in a bike accident last year. The poem talks about the location where I almost died when my bike slipped on gravel at a U-turn.

Word meanings:

Rasta, Daari: Road/path

Kali: river flowing through Dandeli wildlife sanctuary

Mi-oh-chay: goodbye in konkani

Gira Gadi: Fallen vehicle

Gloovery: a made-up word which means gloom-ish