Dressing native normalcy in modern absurdity by Hema Nayak

1

These women talk about miscarriages

sitting in the backyard

cleaning and dressing my favorite prawns

"I had to rip my yoni off

to take out the remains of my first child"

I see the remains lying in front of me

heads, eyes, tails, flesh, and pieces

I will not eat them again

Is this how I have food allergies?

2

I ask this woman whose name

translates into Mother of tiger,

"Why is this neighbor building a mansion

on our compound walls?"

She says,

"He wants to be buried

under our patience; Remind me to get

generous amount of salt, soot and ice cubes

to dress him on the day he dies."

And, we wonder

why fresh ghosts haunt us.

3

Here is my childhood toy hen

Dress it; Press it,

it lays painted plastic eggs

I feel like that proud hen

with my several daughters –

Elis gliding out of my entertaining nest

I can neither chew nor swallow

but can only hatch my motherly boredom

here in this game of eggs

4

Clear water, skinny dip, precious stone

Then I step on the sharp edges

of rock oyster

Blood red water, salty skin, prickling stone

Woman with an exotic Kannada accent

appears and dresses the open wound

on my foot stuffing fried red-hot chillies

"What are you doing?"

"Relieving your pain with pain

like removing a thorn with a thorn"

"No, you are layering my pain with pain"

And, we continue to mumble as the warp

of our realities keeps on wrapping itself.