Galleh, what are you doing up so late? I thought I could sneak in and out
without notice. Men!
I must say though that I love these satires you share and you have a knack
for our pleasure. I thank you for sharing. Allow me to share a story with you:
He is from Calcutta. Uttam Das.
Has been all his life.
Satinder comes to join him
As she does intermittently
Only this time she declares its for good.
Satinder shares there was a Tsunami
In Bombay.
And Shawkat escaped the Tsunami
He made for the hills
his colleagues in the Bombay guild
All drowned to join us in Calcutta.
Satinder promises to share a story.
She squats, legs folded
In the air of a Talube.
Her flute raised, the maestro hums
Uttam glanced at me
the notes had wafted in the monsoons all year
in the air around Calcutta.
In Calcutta, we make the mould.
For the folks in Bombay.
Discouraged, Satinder uncoiled.
as the adder recoils back in the burlap.
On Jaaraama.
Easy Baby boy. Haroun Masoud. MQDT. Al Khairawan. Darbo that is!!
In a message dated 11/1/2007 11:01:43 P.M. Mountain Daylight Time,
[log in to unmask] writes:
Animal Farm Reloaded (Part Two)
By Baba Galleh Jallow
Oh yes, Napoleon the pious pig had become a great goat-lover over the past
several years. Muriel and other local goats were not very much in favor; but
a new species of goat had surfaced in Animal Farm from other surrounding
farms, and had been particularly favored by Napoleon, and for good reasons
too. These goats had exceptionally long beards and had the peculiar custom
of wearing either oversized gowns or strange animal skins with pieces of
mirror and cowry shells stitched to them. They profess great spiritual
knowledge and power and put themselves at the service of the superstitious
Napoleon. These goats professed an uncanny capacity to see into the future
and to smell out Napoleon’s actual and potential enemies long before they
even thought of harming the great pig. Every night, these medicine-goats,
after a long day of feasting, drinking, and stoking Napoleon’s fat ego,
would retire to bed with strange objects such as lizard tails, frog
carcasses, boar teeth, pieces of dry feces, and small animal horns under
their pillows that would help them scan the distant horizons of the future
for the great pig. In the morning, they would all meet with Napoleon and
tell him which animal to be wary of, what sacrifices to offer, on which day
not to venture too far, and a host of other warnings and advices all geared
toward the eternal protection of the great and benevolent pig. They also
told him that he must personally take control of all local animal structures
because there were some strange rumblings at the local level that might
cause him some unease.
But whatever they did and whatever powers they possessed, these long-beard
and strange-clad goats could not help Napoleon against making the lower
animals so angry that they would fart near his house, sing only
half-heartedly, poop on his doorstep in the middle of the night, or whisper
vicious things about the pig who thought he was a god. Neither could they
protect Napoleon against the birds who deliberately shot small balls of shit
at Napoleon’s mansion and sometimes on the back of his grand boubous, or the
chickens who made it a point every dawn to litter Napoleon’s front and
backyards with hundreds of droppings. The chickens also made sure that they
dropped a few eggs here and there all over the yards. The appearance of eggs
at Napoleon’s doorstep every morning was quickly proclaimed as another sign
of Napoleon’s esteemed status in the divine scheme of things. The droppings
were of course ignored and surreptitiously removed. “You see,” Squealer the
Dealer would announce every morning to the traditional assembly of animals;
“Eggs are now falling from the skies to show you that our beloved leader is
indeed a favorite of the high powers above! So rejoice, O ye wretched
animals, for ye have been blessed with a miraculous leader!”
It was one of these long-beard and strange-clad goats who advised Napoleon
to beware the animals of the red forests and all their talk about animal
rights and the rule of law. These red animals, this particular goat had told
Napoleon, were a bunch of thieves and liars who were hatching a mammoth plot
to drive him out of animal farm and have him replaced by some lowly animal
of no consequence who would then be compelled to dance to their red tunes.
Their description of this lowly animal cost many an innocent animal their
lives. For whichever animal fit the description of this pious goat was made
to disappear, accused of planning to overthrow Napoleon, or otherwise
effectively neutralized. This particular long-beard and strange-clad goat
also told Napoleon that he must befriend the leaders of the animals of the
brown forests. He must, Napoleon was told, particularly look out for a
leader whose eyes were squinted because he was one animal who could help him
fight the treacherous animals of the red forests. And so Napoleon had picked
Mr. Squinteyes of dubious fame as his favorite colleague and friend among
the league of animal leaders. Mr. Squinteyes was a vehement critic of the
red animals and professed a philosophy that sounded very much like a
combination of Animalism and Pigism combined. Moreover, Mr. Squinteyes ruled
over a very wealthy forest with lots of milk and apples, Napoleon’s favorite
foods. It was on account of the ceaseless pouring of milk and apple-aid into
Animal Farm that Napoleon had grown so fat that he could hardly raise his
paws.
That Napoleon, Squealer, Napoleon’s dogs, his black cockerel and all the
other pigs were greatly enjoying themselves had become clear as daylight to
the lower animals. Napoleon had grown so fat that he could hardly open his
eyes and spent most of his time sleeping in Jones’ comfortable bed, while
Squealer directed farm affairs. In addition to ‘Animal hero, first class’,
‘Animal hero, second class’, ‘Animal hero, third class’ Animal hero all
classes’ and the Order of the Green Banner, Napoleon created and bestowed
upon himself many other gallant decorations and titles, all of which he wore
on his many public appearances. In addition to his titles of The Great
Leader Comrade Napoleon and Savior of the Animals, Napoleon now took on the
additional titles of Gallant Benefactor, Grand Master of Wisdom, Benevolent
Guardian of the Lost, and His Excellency And Most Royal Highness Dr. Ratahal
Bemutoye of Miracle Tree Fame, Commander of the Faithful and Raiser of the
Dead. He insisted that on every public appearance, first Squealer and then
Kokoliko the black cockerel came forward to address him with all his gallant
titles and make mention of his divinity, his heroic deeds and his
decorations before his hallowed name itself was pronounced to the unworthy
ears of the lower animals. After the battle of the Windmill, Napoleon had
also bestowed upon himself the honorable title of Lord Chancellor of the
Chequered, as a mark of his gallantry and patriotism.
Not even Moses the raven, who never tired of talking about the mysterious
Sugar Candy Mountain hidden beyond the distant clouds, failed to see that
Napoleon had become worse than Farmer Jones. Clearly, Farmer Jones did not
change the rules at every turn to suit his personal needs; Farmer Jones did
not drink so much beer and make so much merry as Napoleon did now-a-days;
Farmer Jones never claimed divine and miraculous powers; and Farmer Jones,
in spite of all his vices, did not have all the long-beard and strange-clad
goats of nearby forests flocking to his feet to serve as medicine-goats.
Like Benjamin, Clover, and Minimus, Moses the raven could not fail to see
that Napoleon now considered Animal Farm his very own personal property and
the animals nothing less than his personal slaves. They had heard him say
that he held the title deeds to Animal Farm and all the animals that lived
within it. Over and above everything else, they had seen him contradict all
the rules in the books and all the promises he had ever made by trading with
humans, sleeping in beds, wearing Jones’ flamboyant tails and ties, walking
on two legs, and wearing colorful ribbons to his tail, among many other
outrageous extremes. Eventually, they had seen him abolish “Beasts of
England” the anthem of the anti-Jones rebellion, and change the name Animal
Farm back to its original name, the Manor Farm and then to Nap’s Farm. Thus,
it was from Manor Farm to Manor Farm to Nap’s Farm. The wheel of fortune had
gone full circle for the lower animals and in spite of themselves, they
increasingly saw through the gross inconsistencies of Comrade Napoleon and
his fellow pigs. Happily, Squealer had grown so fat that he was fast losing
his honey-coated voice and could now only croak “Lort Naple is the beast”,
a
mispronouncement for which he once received a hard slap and a sharp rebuke
from one of Napoleon’s top dogs.
Unhappily however, some of the lesser pigs and animals had absolutely
mastered the art of puppetry, their sole occupation in the course of time
being always to be there when Napoleon delivered his flamboyant exhortations
on the virtues of sacrifice and squealing and shrieking and clapping and
crying ‘poleon! at every word. But there were also many angry animals, and
these expressed their disgust at Napoleon in every imaginable and
unimaginable manner. Yes, the weak also have their weapons; and when the
powerful set out to oppress them, they must remember that the weak also have
their weapons. So sang the birds of Animal Farm. No help from goats!
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