No matter how old we are or how many miles we’ve traveled, it can just take a scent or an old familiar meal and we are suddenly transported back home again to when we were small children. When I close my eyes, I can see my village like it was when I was young . . . so many memories.
Narrow winding paths
Golden paddy fields
Summer time
Harvest time.
Children
running naked
climbing trees
picking fruits
playing hide-and-seek
I too.
I remember
the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
Summer
I was sad
I had to go
from my home.
Walking each day
to the kindergarten
to a half-naked teacher
to learn the alphabet
and to count numbers.
We sat on the dirt floor
With my finger
Onne, Rande, Munne
And that
is the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
Everyone knew
like a big family
helping each other
in time of need.
Loving folks
cared for others
taking risks.
And that
is the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
No roads
no police station
of course no liquor shops
drugs were unknown
drunkards were outcasts
wife beating was a shame
young people didn’t smoke.
We respected teachers
And that
is the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
As the sun went to sleep
like a starry night.
Evening time
singing and praying.
One could hear it
and tiny hut.
And that
is the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
When someone died
Most cried
of the dead.
Times have changed
Now
they talk and laugh
in the house of the dead
and I wonder
what happened to
feelings anymore.
And it is no longer
the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
Liquor shops
drunks in public
Criminals roam the streets
while common folks
For the law
the guilty anymore.
And it is not
the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
Students
Most fail in studies
From the top
to burn buses
to stop trains
provoke police
let a few get killed
or at least get beaten.
These innocent lambs
by corrupt politicians
study abroad.
And it is not
the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
Megatons of poison
washed into rivers
killing all fish.
Bribes ensure that the corruption
not even the media
ever talk about this crime.
Environment
Look around
What kind of future
and grandchildren have?
And it is not
the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
Roads
Street lights
Cars and bikes
Running water
TV, VCR
Telephone
Telefax
Telegram
Computers
Microwave
English-medium schools
Children, only four years old,
each one carrying
armloads of books
running for school bus
Removed from nature
butterflies
picking fruits
frogs and ponds
Unaware they are
Now we have it all
Each one cares
Our hearts
Old people
lonely and forgotten
sit in a corner
they wish to die
So do their children
for anyone anymore.
How it all happened
I don’t know.
But it is not
the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
Two weeks ago
a man
with a dagger
while others watched.
They say
stabbed his friend
and all that happened
from a quarrel
over a five rupee note.
And I ask
he is still free
to go free?
The truth
The politicians
for the bribe they received
let him go
free.
The church
in the light
They have forgotten
for the land.
While the innocent
day and night
in their huts
no one cares
no one weeps.
I cry with a few.
Questions are many
Where will it all end?
I know it must.
And it is not
the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
The sun sets
in the morning
empty faces
greedy eyes
lazy workers
more money
any way they can
no matter
who gets hurt.
Evening comes
Family prayers
TV and VCR
and sounds of silence.
Street lights
for an empty people
with hearts of stone
who live in the dark.
And it is not
the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
Take note
police and politicians
I plead with you
change your life
To do all you can
before it is too late.
And oh,
how I wish
it would be
the way it was
in my village
when I was young.
Read more of Dr. KP Yohannan’s poems in his book Dance Not for Time
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