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The Dhaki (Drummer)
The bedecked, skilfully sculpted clay idol
Had for four festive days stood
On the beautifully decorated dais
Flavour of hectic festivity
Pervading the ignorant and the wise
Clay pots with smoking coconut coir
sprinkled with incense powder
In the hands of frenzied youth gyrating......
The "dhakis" heavy drums slung on sore shoulders
Beating dead taut skin with wooden sticks
Their faces grim... do they feel the strain ??
The strain of the drum's weight,the noise,the crowds ??
The Festival is on-the dhakis beat on....
Sweating it out before the bewitched onlookers
The last day-- the evening descends- unwelcome
Time has come for goodbye to the deity
Ceremoniously hoisted onto the truck
The dhakis continuously beating their dhaks
The deity is immersed into the cold water(a pond or river)
The dhakis are paid a few hundred rupees
Price for their labour,sweat for four festive days
The dhakis and organizers soon part ways
The dhakis spend the night at the abandoned altar
Morning dawns-- the sun seems to bid goodbye
Bid goodbye to the faithful dhakis from yonder
They have a frugal breakfast- move from door to door
Beating "dhaks"crying " May we have some more"?
The Oliver Twists of todays Twisted Land
Do we care to put a tenner in their outstreched hand ??
© Bishwanath Mukherjee
