THE ‘MUHURAT’ FOR DYING !

NOSTALGIA-IV

I now take the readers to another journey.I used to write humourous poetry in Hindi in the seventies.When I sent it for publication,there were hardly any takers ! Then someone suggested:”Try translating it into English and send it to some not-so-famous magazine.”

I did heed this advise.I translated the poem titled “MAUT KA MAHURAT” from Hindi to a passable one in English,titled it: ” The Muhurat for Dying !” and sent it to a magazine called “THOUGHT” – a weekly review of politics and the arts,published from New Delhi by Siddhartha Publications Pvt Ltd.

After a few reminders,it luckily saw the day and was published in the Issue dated DECEMBER 7TH 1974(VOL XXVI NO.48)A copy of the magazine then used to cost just 60 paise !! I don’t recollect having received any honorarium for it.I was just happy to see my name :”JITOO BROCA” in print.It was indeed a very heady moment !Today,I am posting it (after 34 years) on my blog and elsewhere.

I leave it to the readers to judge its quality,content,humour,presentation etc.Feedback is well come.Mind you,I was then just 25 years old.Today I am 59 years old !

“The Muhurat For Dying !”

The clock struck ten.

I got up.I had fallen asleep.

I glanced at my wrist-watch.

It was five past ten.

I looked at the wall-clock

It was ten PM.

I thought:”According to which time should I die ?”

I no longer wished to live.

I had lived so far from hand to mouth.

I didn’t even put on the light.

Why add to my light bill?

I was burning myself!

Why should I burn the lamp ?

This way death will be costly !

Suddenly my hand reached my back.

I caught something.It was a bloody bug!

I crushed it on the wall.

The red stain appeared black,

On the white wall in the dark.

I searched all over my bed. -So many bugs!

As if soldiers on a route-march !

Some were hiding in the bed-covers.

Like infiltrators.

The bloody bugs,attack in the dark,always.

I’ll have to mend their ways !

Spraypump lay under my cot.

I opened it.

I got up.Went to the shelf.

Picked up the bottle of “Tik-20”

In the dark,I emptied it into the pump.

Swish! Swish !I pumped.

I got scared of the noise it made!

I looked across the window.

My wife was changing her side from right to left.

Quickly I sprayed all over the cot,its corners,

On the bed-sheet,on the bed cover.

Their life will be a real hell now !

The clock struck once.

What?Was it already one ?

I looked at my wrist-watch.

It was ten thirty-five.

Half an hour had passed,dealing with the lousy bugs.

Oh!Now I’ll have a peaceful night!

No sooner did I lie down,when I jumped up!

Oh ! Oh! What have I done?

In killing these bugs,I had forgotten my death !

Oh !The cost of death will now increase.

I’ll have to buy another bottle of “Tik-20”!

Since last two months,I was unhappy.

I couldn’t think of anything.

I was frustrated.

Publishers wouldn’t print my poems.

My stories too- They would throw into the waste paper basket.

Many a cross-word quiz I’d filled and sent.

Yet I never did get a dime.

Borrowing some money from my better-half,

Lottery tickets of Kerala,Punjab,Maharashtra,etcetera.

I bought at a time-however,

Only my numbers were excluded from the prize lists!

I had heard that when Allah gives,

He tears your thatched roof and gives !

Then I thought:”I’d better replace my RCC roof with a thatched roof,

So that Allah finds it easy to tear !”

My clock,wrist-watch,cot etcetera,

My wife had brought as her “Dowry”.

Now she was thinking-“Damn it.

At what inauspicious moment did I marry.”

A year had passed,fighting tooth and nail.

At last,being fed up,I’d decided to die.

I’d bought a pack of “Tik-20”,

“If bugs can die,why not I ?

It’s our blood that’s found in them !”

Little did I know,what trouble I’d have to undergo!

“Muhurat”-(auspicious time) I had calculated

-Was eleven PM ,for dying.

At ten I had got up to write for my wife.

My last wishes in a few lines.

But now ? What had happened had happened!

I lay down,turned round and fell asleep.

Next morning my wife woke me up smilingly!

“Get up,your tea is getting cold.”

I got thinking-“It’s better. The ‘muhurat’ has passed !”

Empty ‘Tik-20’bottle lay before me.

My wife was sipping her lonely tea !

I sang-“I had butter to eat, In the days of Lord Krishna.

In the days of Lord Rama,I ate plenty of ghee.

But,in the kingdom of Indira–( my missus!)

Just a cup of hot watery tea !!”

– Jitoo Broca.