Where have all the Burghers gone?


Once, in the 80s and 90s, tamils
Were wiped out from the north
Just like rows of banana plants
Were toppled by the raging monsoon winds
But then, how about shedding a tear
For the wind-torn banana leaves
Which were beautifully folded
And embellished with spices
To be given as a peace offering
– Which are only found now in colonial hotspots
And coastal haunts…….-
We shout – and even fight over – for the darker skin
When we, as cultural cowboys, drove out
The fairer-citizens through ships by sea
And planes through air
So what good is a kaleidoscopic lamprais
– Wrapped in banana paper –
In the absence of an alabaster-coated egg
To indulge in color and taste?
After all our contemporary culture
Is only as insipid as the tyranny of color
Laying hideous melanin walls.

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