Strapped on Cash

Biju Reddy

I do the math,
it all adds upto nothing.
Rent, electricity and water.
For what?
The shared toilet has its waiting list
- tenants in their pyjamas
tightly pressed bladders
while the landlady snores upstairs.

I’m strapped on cash, changing jobs
like dull channels on a television remote.
Head to toe, I rebel against
the destiny of
being born the second child
to middle class parents.

I go to interviews,
make lists and a five year plan,
save, buy a mutual fund,
everything that’s strictly legal.
I regret and
even write down my regrets.
Like my suffocating choice of college and course.
I peel the potatoes
and envy software developers
with their fancy EMIs on home loans.

How many years spent scurrying behind the dream?
How much futile searching
for a buried treasure?
No prophecy is required,
palms sweaty with the anticipation of future,
I give in.
Poverty shines.
The smell of Delhi rains
mixed with fresh mold,
dripping ceiling, clogged drains,
nylon nets keeping out the mosquito
and his distant two-winged relatives.

No privacy here, a neighbour peeps
in through the doorframe.
Last night’s leftovers turns into today’s trash
steadily turns into a wasted life.
It’s okay, I say.

Such ugly things have their beauty too.

*** Biju Reddy from Hyderebad won the second prize in Wingword Poetry Competition 2019 for his poem Strapped On Cash. He also received INR 50,000 financial aid to advance his literary career along with the publication of his poem in the Wingword poetry anthology Riding On The Summer Train.