Came across the poetry of Antonio Gomes on India Star...a on line lit & book reviews, fiction dealing with Indian subjects out of the US. Google Indiastar and the links should show on the first 10 results.
-- poems by Antonio Gomes -- [Editor's intro: Anthony Gomes, M.D., is a poet and professor of Cardiology at the Mount Sinai Medical Center, in New York. -- c. j. s. wallia] THIS PLACE, THIS DAY This place called Govapuri, before Pearl of the Orient Where Shivalinga-Dharalinga oozed sapient water Where dancing Mahalakshimi was Satvika Before Siddharta's followers brought Buddha Where Hindus were sacked by Islamic invaders Before Albuquerque walked in the footsteps of Gama Where the Jesuits brought Xavier, who brought Christianity Before the Portuguese brought the Inquisition Where West met East like ocean met land, spice met Bland, life met death, intermingled and drew apart. This place, my home, Tomb of Saint Francis Xavier Arabian Sea embraces white sand, red rock and wind Noon absorbed in sun, lazy sleepy and sosegad Sky transparent glass studded with stars and ragas Over crimson and purple colored women, saris tucked Under fertile loins with round buttocks above Glass bangled legs, gold bangled arms with copper Tumblers on heads as they carry the moon in sun Fathers and veiled mothers with their children attend Sunday Mass at the Church with Baroque facade Adorned with white bougainvillea, browned by sun Nights of guitars, fado and mando for lovers Manguesh, Nagesh, Ganesh, Saptakotes'dancing To the beat of drums amid the fire-throwers Cows, dogs, crows, snakes, monkeys, mango, man Caju feni, delirium e c s t a s y m a d n e s s. ii. This day, bleeding and dying, never finished with death Of her who was of this land I arrive, I land to walk The path, the narrow river where I bathe and shower And drown in memories, accompanied by the silent Footsteps on dusty roads, on paddy fields, rock and sand A room, a photograph, a tamarind tree, a coconut groove, A sister, a cousin, a friend, a distant voice in the darkness Spill and overflow, drown and expand, fold and unfold Walk over a buried temple, a grave of childhood, Of adolescence when lips touched lips, hand held hand There is no mirror, no reflection in the water, no grain of Sand, only a boat adrift without ores seeks its origin in silence Notes: Govapuri is original name forGoa, India; Daralinga is faceted linga (translation from the Sanskrit); Satvika is goddess with linga as headdress (translation from the Sanskrit); sosegad is easygoing (translation from the Konkani); Fado is a Portuguese love song; Mando is a Goan love song; Mangesh, Nagesh, Ganesh, Saptakotes' are incarnations of the god Shiva; caju feni is a local liquor made from the caju fruit. II AFTER TWENTY SEVEN YEARS After twenty seven years, I returned to Aldona, to my grandmother's house now half its size, the current owner, my aunt by marriage, found it too big to keep all the old ones had died. Into the Prayer Room I entered. The beds asleep the alter untouched - the ivory Saints, Our Lady of Santana, the Crucified Christ and Mary looked on, I bowed in reverence. There, the memory of my ancestors chatting before the Rosary of village matters, coming wedding of a cousin, the village drunkard. Rosary beads rolling in their delicate fingers some dosing in between words of Hail Marys and Our Fathers. Then - wind took away their prayers the flickering yellow light blurred their image and from behind came the voices of servants, faint footsteps of my old grandmother and the voice of my mother calling: "Come my son, come for your blessing" And I went with folded hands and they blessed me one by one. As the window o p e n e d, a distant breeze iced my cheek - tears rolled down my face as I stretched out my arms to embrace. My maid Terezinha who was by my side asked in alarm: "Baby why do you cry." III DUSK IN LOUTOLIM Alleluia! Alleluia! sing the flying angels and the drone of cicadas rings in my ears. The sun glides slowly, then tumbles, over a bleeding red and golden sky. Ding-dong, ding-dong, the church bells ring, and the village elders the Angels sing. A "good night" here and a "good night" there, the dark night settles on the village square. Cows, sheep and shepherds trod home the smell of dung and crimson dust fill the air. Rich homes their iron doors bolt, drunk Kundbi, the dark alleys roam. The gray veil envelops my world shadows guard my favorite haunts dogs bark fiercely in response to the howls of famished angry wolves. The dark night moves into my home the flickering ponti dances on the wall. My ayah's shining eyes and graying hair moves in the kitchen aroma of chicken soup. Notes: Loutolim is a village in Goa where the poet hails from. Kundbi is a local tribe. Ponti is a kerosene lamp (translation from the Konkani); ayah is a special maid (translation from the Konkani) IV THE MOUNT A pile of red earth with mango groves and cashew trees, fruits of dazzling yellow, orange, red and green, amid murmurs of ruffling leaves on which is a chapel where god lives. There, on the Mount, We spent our evenings romanced, picked wild berries laughed and pranked. There, we strummed our Spanish guitars, and sang "Igreja de Santa Cruz," the "Coimbra Fado," and many others. A Maina, a monkey atop a mango tree listened attentively. At dusk, as guitar chords intermingled with sounds of distant church bells, the crimson sun plunged its dying rays onto the figure of Christ: the sword thrust. Notes: The Mount is located in the village of Loutolim, in Goa, India. Igreja de Santa Cruz, (Church of the Holy Cross) and 'Coimbra', are Fados, which are traditional Portuguese love songs, with a melancholy touch to them. V HOUSE House: of cement and stone blood and tears whitewashed, rainwashed, with streaks of red, blotches of green, a balcony with pillars of vermilion, walls of indigo and saffron yellow; elegant verandahs and halls with windows of oyster-shells and gothic arches. Rooms full of people, more servants than masters. Black stained wood, carvings of lotus flowers, traces of the West, remnants of the Hindu past: the raj angan, kuddi and vasary. Chinese plates and vases: Cantonese and the Ming, portraits of bygone Batcars. High beds in bedrooms with potties of China, elegant urinals. House: of Catholic fervor, remnant of the Inquisition. A prayer room, a private Chapel for weddings and Sunday Mass. Saints of ivory, crowns of gold, a gem- studded crib for the infant Jesus. The rosary at eight for young and old and the sprawling servant class. Amid the loud prayers, a child's giggle, an old man's snore, a fart. The Novena to St. Philomena sung by the household. Then the big feast with Sorpatel, Cabidel and neon lights from the Petromax House: of jewels platinum, and gold, rubies and emeralds, pins and brooches from Lisbon, necklaces from Rajastan. A jewel set for the shy bride of platinum, diamonds and filigreed gold crafted by the local goldsmith, western design. A lavish feast, pomp and Goan glory where the Portuguese Governor feasted on turkey and raised a glass of port to the chorus: "Viva, viva, viva India Portuguesa." House: now naked Empty rooms inhabited by the wind. The saints of ivory looted, sold to European tourists at Christi's their new abode. Stained silk, dusty furniture of what remains of what was sold to pay for the drinking habits of the son that could not take hold. Noble house: inhabited by ghosts: in stained pajamas and faded robes, remnants of the old Colonial world. Notes: Raj angan, kuddi and vassary: A pillared space within the house, opening into a garden and connecting to rooms; and a ritual dining room connecting to the family chapel or alter (trans. from the Konkani) Batcars: landlords, (trans. from the Konkani); Sorpotel, cabidel: special Goan dishe; Petromax: a pumped kerosene lamp (trans. from the Konkani) VI THE BOYS OF ALDONA The Church of ornate biblical murals, frescoes of a man ascending Heaven, a sinner woman pulled by the black-tailed devil into Dante's Hell. Statues of Saints, studded with Ceylon rubies, and African gold. The legend goes: The Church assaulted by robbers warned at the entrance by a ten year old, not to rob the jewelry of the Church offered by the peasants to the patron Saint of the Old World. The warning unheeded, the Church was robbed. The bells toll mysteriously, the robbers flee. Some drown in the river that saps at the feet of St. Thomas's Church. The leader taken past the Altar, identified the statue of St. Thomas: the boy he met in front of the Church. April 27, 1958: the Vicar relates the legend on the court-yard pulpit. The procession circles the market square and enters the Church. There a boy dressed in a sharkskin suit, sees a boy, in rags, in prayer, an orphan with no place to go. The rich boy stretches a hand Hand in Hand they glide to the fair, take rides, eat sweat meats. The rich boy pays. At dusk the feast ends it is time to go home. They say good-bye and walk away each looks back and sees the other as they walk away waving at each other, they seem to come closer to each other until, they walk Home together. Notes: Aldona, is a village in Goa; Ceylon is the original name for Sri Lanka VII TANTRIC LOVE The bedroom, an incandescent temple Purified with jasmine, water and rose Marigolds offered sun gold to the gods Mists of holy incense, perfumed the air They sat on the floor covered with veils The candle light was agni in their eyes She poured sand into a humble earthen bowl He stuck a stone - the lingam from his home Man and woman - Shiva and Shakti Two worlds longing to be: O n e Hands weaving in the places of pleasure Lingum to Yoni, goddess to the god And then she said: "I honor you, earthly manifestation of the Great Shiva" and he said: "I honor you earthly manifestation of Shakti, Mother of Myriad Things." In Sunyata they interlocked as one Notes: Agni: fire (transl. From the Sanskrit): Sunyata: In Tantric Buddhism and Hinduism, the union of Karuna (masculine side of reality) and Prajna (the feminine) is sunyata. VIII BACK IN TIME (for Marina) Night transformed into day Moon tumbled down the sky The earth below opened and closed It happened, 30 years back in time She was there - center of the Universe Her eyes mirrored my reflection My eyes shadowed her innocence Her body on fire: consumed Locked in her creation destroyed and re-created A new life She walked, a river by my side I, floated a boat on her bosom We loved to remake the world Two indistinguishable shadows Reflecting on walls of glass as One beyond which there were None. 25 years later, Ragged pieces of shattered glass Reflected in the mirrored sunset and I, Walked the rooms of empty homes, Ran down the stairs of endless time. Amid flowers I searched her face In the ocean wind I heard her cry In the falling star I saw her leap In the snow flakes I felt her breath. She stood by my side: a tree She flowed with me : a river She towered over me: a mountain She laughed and splashed: an ocean 30 years later - her Shadow set sail and parted in S i l e n c e