Sarcastic take on the venerated idea of “Akor Khasi” (Khasi code of conduct)
A comment on the motivation behind many Khasi people today.
A Khasi poem heavily improvised on a local radio channel
Some gods are really weird
They need you to grow a beard
Some of them are damn hard to please
They want you down on your knees
How am I going to worship the guy
If he’s invisible, up in the sky ?
What do you reckon I’d say
When I don’t think about him all day ?
Some gods don’t like women in service
Others really make men nervous
I think we all need a time-out
From the hysteria and shouts
Give me a quiet, pensive deity
Not of the church but the laity
Give me a god of the stark winters
Give me a god of mud and splinters
Give me a god, cold like stone heaths
A god that reminds us of our soft feet,
Our soft skins, our soft tissues, our soft ideas
Father chases me with a stick
I run to grandmother in the garden
I sob into her warm clothes
She hands me over to father
Father dies in a car crash
Father dies in pain
I hear this in the garden
Now I know Pain
Why did you take him away
When I did your Sunday School work !?
Why did you fail me
When I prayed to you each day ?!
Something went missing
Around my 16th year
Something flew away
I don’t know where it’s fled