Terre Rouge 1

Mousse, mousse: My job is to wave

this leafy twig to goose flies away.

Jay rolls out sweet potato pills,

we pinch the paste into coconut patties,

Ashna noshes ice-cream, Dev fries,

shakes the wok, smoke shutters the carport,

The trick is not putting the fire too high.

He scoops out crispy moons.

We cut a long wick into strips

for the swastika sprawled on the concrete drive.

Ash and I hand out freshly cooked sweets

to neighbours, Namaste, happy Diwali.

When dark pours down, pour oil in our pots,

light the lamps for missing Sita,

Rama’s been fighting for fourteen years,

tonight he’ll bring her home

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