My Mother was an Environmentalist
To chop a pumpkin for curry is customary but
to make chutney out of the peel is creative.
Ergo, my mother was a very creative person.
A restorer, she was also an environmentalist,
much before the title became trendy & cool.
She strived to reduce the usage, reuse Dalda
PET jars & tins of Amul for storing grains,
repair old worn, torn garments to breathe new
life into the once-living. She was also a recreator.
Compromise can lead to creativity. The imperative
inescapable incentive for her was to save, somehow;
she didn't have an option but was forced to save
the way creativity was forced upon her, the same
way she was forced to be a housewife, and compromise.
Patterns of our World
My wife lays kaleidoscopic flower petals on the floor—
squares & concentric-circles, predictable patterns
passed from the grandmothers to her mother to her;
a geometry of elements repeating across generations
with the regularity of repetition of our round world,
rotating, revolving in a prescribed path, repeating
forever. The patterns lead me to the mathematics
of symmetry, of waves & dunes, spots & stripes,
bubbles & foams, fractal structures of an ancient
temple in Hampi, the template of a petal resembling
flower, the parts simulating the whole, resonating
the parts. Words forming the language, mimicking
the pieces for generations who forge & form
the language that we speak & scribble & transpose.
In the center, she places an earthen lamp & lights
her face with abstract patterns of ripples in rapture.
Debasis Tripathy lives in Bangalore. His recent work features in Mad Swirl, Rogue Agent, Vayavya, Leon Lit, Mantle Poetry, Eunoia Review & elsewhere. Occasionally, he tweets at @d_basis