Goan Garden

a poem by Suhas Chavan

Daring,
soft pink roses
(“almost white!” says Mr. Nervekar
gardener supreme!)
Lozenge drops,
Passion streaks
hurtling themselves
at that dusky
awning Neel-Leela,
(Like Flamingo-isles
standing stupefied,
Lost Dewdrops
in the
Salty Umber of
the Kutch of Raan.)
The Sea crooning softly,
somewhere beyond the palms
sushsushing me, lulling in
a drowsiness of lethargious
Calm
Restoring a Sanity
already perfected
by that divine Nautch-girl,
sweet, dancing “Cashew-Feni”!
Perfect setting
for the Budgeriars
at play.
My yellow and white budgies
Tintin and Ginseng
bosom buddies, arch-rivals
ever-spiralling playmates
of a
World of feathery dreams
and sunflecked
Toddy groves;
Alighting like errant Snowflakes
on the brilliant red carnations.
Oh, did we forget Mantu;
That shaitani
tan streak of funny
sad eyes,
and a wet, lopsized tongue
that makes up for Everything,
My Garden,
World,
My Tanhai…