Saturday, December 23, 2006

In your love, my salvation lies...

And I had a dream I stood beneath an orange sky...With my sister standing by With my sister standing by...I said Sister, here is what I know now...Here is what I know now...Goes like this.. In your love, my salvation lies...In your love, my salvation lies...In your love, in your love, in your love...


I looked at my sister lying quietly in the makeshift cot. She looked so beautiful in the night sky. Our neighbors had always called her a blue goddess. She was dressed in coal like the rest of us when the sun shined down during the mornings. However, she fascinatingly evolved into a beautiful and blue princess when the moon swallowed the sun later during the day. Father had been upset when she was born. He had always wanted a second son to help with the tiny plot of land the government had not taken away from us. Socialism they called it. Communism some others did.

We called it fate. We called it life. Father worked so hard every day to feed us. The hospital bills and the frequent militia raids offset any meagre savings we created out of the dry, scorching air. Times were tough and the only variable that kept our family smiling was Chantal, the blue goddess of the Nile. Anybody else in our struggling town would have given up Chantal for dead. Not us. Not after all we had gone through. The doctors promised hope and we thrived on these solitary sparks of anticipation. Chantal would get better. If only God could tell us when.

Drops of water. They keep dripping into our bamboo hut. Father knows the roof will break any time now. The rain fell like bullets on an angry mob. Chantal was getting worse and mother was starting to get worried. We needed medicines but we had none left. It was up to me, Mwale Akloyo, to save my sister's life. Redeem my father's faith in my boyish spirits. Bring in the elixer of immortality. Raise my mother's spirits. Even if it was only for one selfish day. There were reports that the Janjaweed planned to attack the city where Doctor Kwame lived. I had to be careful but I had never been caught before. They would find no use for me anyway. I was rail-thin and could barely hold a gun, let alone fire one. I would make a lousy child soldier and they knew it.

Mother looked at me dispassionately as father handed me a glass of goat's milk. She was tired and miserable. We were living in one of the darkest times of my country's history. We were the poster children of humanitarian projects. A hungry and lifeless family living in a nation where thousands died everyday. We were the dark, black faces on American television screens. Begging for salvation, peace, forgiveness, and safety. Losing hope as bullets, diseases, and hunger eliminated every one of us. Individually. Effectively. Efficiently.

I dodged bullets. Except there were none. I imagined them dropping dead as soon as they landed on my inpenetrable and invisible silver coat. The reports should have been characterized as rumors. There were no Janjaweed in sight. I walked with my chin up and my head held high. Mwale Akloyo. The savior of the blue goddess. The dark knight of Africa. I smiled hesitatingly as Doctor Kwame gave me the striped orange and white crystals. He gave me a reassuring smile as he told me this would keep Chantal alive. He promised me a month and I told him I would sing a prayer in his honor if his science gave me a day. A single, solitary day. As I walked back, I saw a couple lying naked on the street. Chest to back. Perfectly fit into each other's nooks. Like little spoons in a kitchen drawer. Their bodies creating a single, stunning form. Without a care in the world. Completely and delightfully ignoring death threat reports by the Janjaweed. I immediately knew everything was going to be alright.

Gunfire! The sound of a thousand bullets! I was not imagining it this time. My heart was in my stomach as I ran like a saint on fire. The reports were right after all. Except for the most important variable. The town they were supposed to attack. My town. My family. The Gods were coming down to haunt us again. And this time there would not be anything left to hope for. The wind gave me speed as I rushed through the wild brush. Panting. Gasping. My legs felt like chopped wood but I could not stop. If my family had to die, I would die with them. As I neared our home, I heard hoofbeats. The silent and scary winds brought only the steady and distant sound. Of aggresors fleeing after causing utter and complete destruction. Of the reviled militia. The harbingers of doom. The spirits of death.

I burst through the door and howled like there was no tomorrow. Blood from madness. Evil from good. My parents had fallen over my sister's cot. They were all dead. In fifteen seconds of annihilation, I had lost everything I had in this world. As I slowly creeped up to the carnage, I saw a blue finger raise itself from the dead. I watched in gorgeous technicolor as a fist pushed its way through my father and my mother. The blue nile was alive! I rushed to drag her out from underneath her parents' bodies. My sister was alive! Hope had risen through the carnage.

The sand turned orange as my father's blood rejuvenated the earth. The sky turned orange as my mother's spirit lifted up into the heavens. My sister remained a ravishing blue goddess. I was at peace again. Love. Life. Health. And hope.

...But sister you know I’m so weary...And you know sister...My hearts been broken Sometimes, sometimes...My mind is too strong to carry on...Too strong to carry on...You who are my home...And here is what I know now...Here is what I know now...Goes like this.. In your love, my salvation lies...In your love, my salvation lies...In your love, in your love, in your love...

Poem Credits (Italicized): Alexi Murdoch, Orange Sky.

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