The white-horned, round-red-faced, mustachioed demon who sticks his tongue out at me, from his perch above every construction site in the city, has seemingly made his way into my migrained brain.
Defying all objections, he screams through my tortuous cortex, pushes into my forehead, no mystic Shiva seer but mridangam-beating, sword-swinging maniac intent on stabbing his way through my third eye.
If only a highly caffeinated chai could subdue this drishti-bommai beast, keep his grimace from becoming mine.
Borewell-Cartel Blues
The potable-water reserve -- trapped deep beneath city streets or evaporating from lakes contaminated by man-made hazards -- diminishes by the day, as the heat-strained population begs for reliable supply.
While the state of Karnataka haggles with its neighbor, over damming rights for the liquid gold of the Kaveri River, the ravenously slick members of Bangalore's borewell cartel sit ready to gouge every buyer, even as they blame extended drought.
They rub their greedy hands together, eager for the negotiations to run as dry as my tap.
Sheri Vandermolen is editor in chief of Time Being Books. From 2008 to 2014, she resided in India, exploring the subcontinent via camera and pen until her repatriation to California. Her verse has appeared in various international journals, including Contemporary Literary Review India, Muse India, Papercuts, and Taj Mahal Review.
