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- Newsgroups: soc.culture.indian
- Path: sparky!uunet!charon.amdahl.com!pacbell.com!sgiblab!darwin.sura.net!jvnc.net!nj.nec.com!rsd
- From: rsd@ccrl.nj.nec.com (Rajiv Dighe)
- Subject: Musings of a disgruntled suburbanite (Poem-Long)
- Message-ID: <1992Nov19.171148.11516@research.nj.nec.com>
- Sender: news@research.nj.nec.com
- Organization: C&C Research Labs, NEC USA, Princeton, N.J.
- Date: Thu, 19 Nov 92 17:11:48 GMT
- Lines: 136
-
- Ramblings of a reluctant Suburbanite
-
- I live the American dream.
- part skimmed milk, part cream
- Is it a comfortable dream
- or does one wake up with a scream ?
-
- A few weeks ago, our ceiling developed a leak
- a surprise ? hardly, nary a shriek
- same-to-same thing happened sometime last year
- so this time I faced it without a fear
-
- "Shouldnt we call a roofer ?" asked the better half
- "Naah, its blown in from the attic window" I said with a laugh
- This fanciful theory was courtesy my neighbour
- whom I had warmly clasped to my bosom-for saving me the labour
-
- This time I did a better job
- instead of sticking it with tape and some glob
- I removed the sheet rock, for a change
- a certifiable act I'm told-quite deranged
-
- I drilled the new sheetrock onto the stud
- after it landed on my head many a times with a thud
- then I stuck the tape with compound spackle
- which squarely hit me on the face amid spousal cackles
-
- And then I sanded
- and spackled
- and sanded
- and spackled
- and sanded
- and spackled
- thinking I was stranded
- and shackled
- in this never-never land of non-uniformity
- this endless mindless quest for conformity
- (it can know be told
- if I may be so bold
- I still sanding
- and spackling)
-
- Somehow that is an apt metaphor
- for the state of my life in stupor
- an unending battle to maintain the facade
- of a seamless creaseless existence-bloody charade
-
- Last weekend was our big date
- with Mother Nature and boy, was she irate
- we surveyed the state of the lawn
- and decided to grab the bull by the horn
-
- It was time to shake and rake
- and vow that future houses will be in a lake
- Raking by itself can be a very cerebral act
- when you have time on your side- not just react
-
- But as I gently turned my barren earth
- memories flooded from the past-clearly no dearth
- As the winds would suddenly reach a calm
- I smiled to meself as I thought of KILLAM
-
- KILLAM was my friend MALLIK's magnum opus
- witty, humorous it sharply brought to focus
- the plight of the bachelor drafted for chores
- in return for a hot meal and lecture on mores
-
-
- And even before that I remember times in S.Bend
- when Desi professors invited us for odds & ends
- They thought that feeding us was payment enough
- for after all we were the youth-rough and tough
-
- The "hungry graduate student" was even then a myth
- but we were too polite to openly admit it
- and it always made for a good tale
- in the dark nights as we walked the campus trail
-
- In those days our time was considered cheap
- as bachelors there was clearly no excuse too deep
- but somehow we had still had our freedom to reap
- and we never felt shackled or a felt a climb was too steep
-
- Clearly then the world was at our feet
- no task too big, no fear of defeat
- I thought about our old crew
- and wondered how many still knew
-
- the challenges of tasks unfamiliar
- the ability to smile and still steer
- how many would now rise to my invitation to clear
- my yard of leaves for a keg of beer ?
-
- I can now see a litany of reasons
- for not being the man for all seasons
- Bad Back
- Daddy Track
- Spousal Attacks
- Spare time I do lack
-
- And then came a sickening thought
- it was not even a question of how many could be bought
- but how many were even able
- to tackle these tasks and still be stable
-
- Most of us have become quite old
- Atrophy spreading in with the cold
- As our joints begin to creak
- and we do our tasks with feelings weak
-
- Then there is the New Jersey Rat Race
- as we try hard to keep up with the pace
- weekdays are spent driving to and from work
- as for weekends-chores that we cannot shirk
-
- These were my thoughts as I gathered the leaves
- and anxiously watched the darkening eve
- 15 bags full and I have just done my front lawn
- "the sidewalks and the backyard is left" it is beginning to dawn
-
- So I have inherited the AMERICAN dream
- I lead the life of the creme-de-creme
- a house I have mortgaged my life for
- a lawn that looks like the S. Florida shore
- (post-Andrew it goes without saying
- but I better stop that thought as I am straying)
- Each weekend there is a laundry list
- of things overdue-if you catch my drift
- where is the time to smell the roses ?
- which reminds me- I have to trim the posies
- who would believe the amount of work
- that a man must do to enjoy his perks ?
- When will this cycle of Karma end ?
- as I longingly look at my days in S. Bend..
-
- Rajiv-"Queschen is Why not How"-Dighe
-