Elsa’s Tiara
It was the day after
Halloween
On a stroll to nearby
Flatbush Coop or Supermarket
There on the sidewalk
Lies a worn tiara –
Elsa’s Tiara
Probably got shipped from China
All the way crossing thousands
Of knots on the oceans
Surya too
Wore the same silvery plastic coronet
With all the bells and whistles
The full-length floor sweeping
Blue dress with beads, stones
We accompanied her
To the neighborhood Halloween party
Walking gently through the soggy
Sod, lawn patches, and the bushes
The front yards with lights, strobes, and music
Grandmas, uncles, aunts chaperoning
The little ones
Halloween
On a stroll to nearby
Flatbush Coop or Supermarket
There on the sidewalk
Lies a worn tiara –
Elsa’s Tiara
Probably got shipped from China
All the way crossing thousands
Of knots on the oceans
Surya too
Wore the same silvery plastic coronet
With all the bells and whistles
The full-length floor sweeping
Blue dress with beads, stones
We accompanied her
To the neighborhood Halloween party
Walking gently through the soggy
Sod, lawn patches, and the bushes
The front yards with lights, strobes, and music
Grandmas, uncles, aunts chaperoning
The little ones
Who
Knows how many hours
Mothers and fathers worked
For the cardboard “B” train
For the shiny golden-white long
Braided hairpiece of Elsa’s
For arranging a fancy party, dress,
And evening goings for their little
Children
They need the show for their pre-K classes
And evening rounds with plastic pumpkins
And then you’ve to gore the fall yellow
Fruit and make a scary face
With lamp or candle inside
And then mercilessly discard it into trash
The next day
Knows how many hours
Mothers and fathers worked
For the cardboard “B” train
For the shiny golden-white long
Braided hairpiece of Elsa’s
For arranging a fancy party, dress,
And evening goings for their little
Children
They need the show for their pre-K classes
And evening rounds with plastic pumpkins
And then you’ve to gore the fall yellow
Fruit and make a scary face
With lamp or candle inside
And then mercilessly discard it into trash
The next day
The modern urban setting
Changes everything it touches
Every custom, festival, or community
Activity or display is for a buck
For the promotion of business
Much of the meaning and most of the
Original story is lost, sadly
Changes everything it touches
Every custom, festival, or community
Activity or display is for a buck
For the promotion of business
Much of the meaning and most of the
Original story is lost, sadly
But it was not like that
Certainly decades ago
In our modest village
We had many events
With a purpose
Synchronized to the exact
Lunar position (phase)
As children
We enacted activities
Imbued with singing, colorful dresses
Original costumes
The teacher escorted us
Through the street
The children entertained
With a song or two
The master got a five or ten
Rupee note
We’re given toffies, puffed rice,
Jaggery, peanuts, or roasted peas
That was for the Dussera festival
Mind such a celebration
Occurred only in one or two provinces
It did not span the entire
Indian sub-continent
The modern onslaught
Of world-wide commerce
Did not arrive yet – putting
Thousands of kids into straightjacket
Cultural mannequins
Certainly decades ago
In our modest village
We had many events
With a purpose
Synchronized to the exact
Lunar position (phase)
As children
We enacted activities
Imbued with singing, colorful dresses
Original costumes
The teacher escorted us
Through the street
The children entertained
With a song or two
The master got a five or ten
Rupee note
We’re given toffies, puffed rice,
Jaggery, peanuts, or roasted peas
That was for the Dussera festival
Mind such a celebration
Occurred only in one or two provinces
It did not span the entire
Indian sub-continent
The modern onslaught
Of world-wide commerce
Did not arrive yet – putting
Thousands of kids into straightjacket
Cultural mannequins
Later I remember
Another local village observance
It happens around the
Telugu New Year time
We’d pick a little container
Could be a palm-leaf woven pot
Or, made out of coconut leaves
Or, improvised out of a discarded
Metal bucket
The ubiquitous plastic (PVC)
Wasn’t there yet
And would fill it with garden soil
Oh, what a fertile soil it was
Right on the banks of Godavari
You got to see it to believe it -
The coastal nature’s fecundity!
And then gently sprinkle
The nine types of beans
Bought from the local grocer
Just a block away
And then, despite my immeasurable grief
(Due to a
Sudden family catastrophe)
I watered the little pot
Daily twice, once in the morning
And once in the evening
And watched it sprout and grow
With all my love and care
The sprouts reached about
Knee high or so
And then we had to
Carry it to the local
Poleramma (Devi) temple
And offer it to the “ad-hoc priest”
The whole temple was filled with
Green color
Decorated with lots of potted
Feet long
Sprouts – both inside and outside
The entire temple looked
Like a nice beautiful green earth
A multilevel hanging garden
The entire village gathered
There
And that was the only
Custom
I still think has
Profound meaning
Of devotion, gratitude,
And piety
Without a single
Chant or mantra –
That act alone saved me
As I wistfully rue now
Another local village observance
It happens around the
Telugu New Year time
We’d pick a little container
Could be a palm-leaf woven pot
Or, made out of coconut leaves
Or, improvised out of a discarded
Metal bucket
The ubiquitous plastic (PVC)
Wasn’t there yet
And would fill it with garden soil
Oh, what a fertile soil it was
Right on the banks of Godavari
You got to see it to believe it -
The coastal nature’s fecundity!
And then gently sprinkle
The nine types of beans
Bought from the local grocer
Just a block away
And then, despite my immeasurable grief
(Due to a
Sudden family catastrophe)
I watered the little pot
Daily twice, once in the morning
And once in the evening
And watched it sprout and grow
With all my love and care
The sprouts reached about
Knee high or so
And then we had to
Carry it to the local
Poleramma (Devi) temple
And offer it to the “ad-hoc priest”
The whole temple was filled with
Green color
Decorated with lots of potted
Feet long
Sprouts – both inside and outside
The entire temple looked
Like a nice beautiful green earth
A multilevel hanging garden
The entire village gathered
There
And that was the only
Custom
I still think has
Profound meaning
Of devotion, gratitude,
And piety
Without a single
Chant or mantra –
That act alone saved me
As I wistfully rue now
Copyright 2025 by the author
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