slumdog frame of mind

I have never seen God. When I see temples I think of Hiranyakashipu the demon king, and when I see an image worshipped I think about the daughter of the house being sold for cash. Offering one faded life to another. To see blood coughed from the mouths of the bloodless is the final joke. Still, when I saw that fellow in the grimy blue-black tee shirt on the tram, straight as a cast-iron cannon, I wished he were God! Then at least I'd have gotten a proper place to hide, or I could have pushed him and even if I'd killed him it would have been love. Nowadays when I step onto the running board of a bus I think of God. --Anuradha Mahapatra, translated from the Bengali

This poem seems to hold much under a rather simple surface. I like the way the first line echoes the New Testament.

...been listening to new CD releases by Rudresh Mahanthappa reviewed in the New Yorker and other places. Of the two (Kinsmen, Apti), I prefer Apti.