"HOUSE OF A THOUSAND DOORS" by Meena Alexander

HOUSE OF A THOUSAND DOORS

by Meena Alexander

This house has a thousand doors 

the sills are cut in bronze 

three feet high 

to keep out snakes, 

toads, water rats 

that shimmer in the bald reeds 

at twilight 

as the sun burns down to the Kerala coast. 

The roof is tiled in red 

pitched with a silver lightning rod, 

a prow, set out from land's end 

bound nowhere. 

In dreams 

waves lilt, a silken fan 

in grandmother's hands 

shell coloured, utterly bare 

as the light takes her. 

She kneels at each 

of the thousand doors in turn 

paying her dues. 

Her debt is endless. 

I hear the flute played in darkness, 

a bride's music. 

A poor forked thing, 

I watch her kneel in all my lifetime 

imploring the household gods 

who will not let her in.

IDENTITY CARD (Poem) by S Joseph

IDENTITY CARD by S Joseph

Translated by K. Satchidanandan

In my student days

a girl came laughing

Our hands met mixing

her rice and fish curry

On a bench we became 

a Hindu-Christian family

I whiled away my time

reading Neruda’s poetry;

and meanwhile I misplaced 

my Identity Card.

She said,

returning my card: 

'the account of your stipend

is entered there in red’

These days I never look at 

a boy and a girl lost in themselves. 

They will part after a while.

I won't be surprised even if they unite. 

Their Identity Cards

won't have markings in red.