Chapters (48)
Maya nods without understanding a word. Neatly filling the last piece of bhakri with jhunka and popping it into her mouth, she says to Shevanta, ‘Buss.’ Then looking at the others proudly, she says, ‘I’ve picked up at least that word.’ Then she says even more proudly, ‘And matherchod.’
The room goes dead for a moment. Shevanta’s eyes roll. When everybody bursts out laughing, she too hides her face in her sari and giggles.
At midnight they hug each other in sombre silence. What will the coming year bring them? Feroze will show in January. Annihilation II will be exhibited. Another riot? Janaki doesn’t want to depend on Ashesh financially. The space for serious writing on the arts has all but disappeared. She can always find another job. But will the work be satisfying?
Sharada takes her drone box from the cloth bag Anima has made for it. ‘I’m not in the mood to sing anything classical tonight. I want us all to sing. No, honestly. I’ll sing an abhang of Tukaram. You can join in the refrain. Have you brought your cymbals, Jijabhau?’
Jijabhau grins and nods. Pandurang and Shevanta come in. Sharada clears her throat. It is the third quarter of the day but traditional songs are not time bound. Sharada presses the shadja on the drone box and begins.
Music is filled with the colours of magic,
It is your gift to us, my Lord,
Accept it back from us.
The love that fills our hearts never ebbs,
Says Tukaram, voice and speech are pools of nectar.
The power fails. The song continues in the dark.
Footnotes
31
* Bountiful your body
Bountiful bountiful heart
Most bountiful of the bountiful
Bountiful bountiful for me
Gazing, how bountiful your eyes
Giving, how bountiful your lips
Bountiful arms around my neck,
Bountiful breasts
Most bounteous of the bountiful
Bountifully bountifully bounteous.
THE BEGINNING
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