Dev Virahsawmy

Akoz Sa Ev La!

Enn gramaten, apre enn lanwit trouble par konfli ki ti pe dire depi plizier banane, Layla dir Rajou ki li preferab aster ki zot separe.

– Ki dimoun pou dir?

– Les zot koze. Pa zot ki manz margoz.

– Ki margoz? To fer koumadir to pa dan bien.

– Dan bien? Wi, mo dan bien.

– Aret koz foutan. Kifer to pa fer kouma tou fam. Axepte lavi kouma li ete. … Depi Ev li koumsa.

– Axepte? Axepte ki to ena metres? Axepte ki Ev antor? Axepte ki to mama diriz nou lavi?

– Pa koz kont mo mama!

– Li li gagn drwa koz kont mwa.

– Mama ena ennsel!

– Fam gagne par tonn, pa vre.

– Wi! … Bon! Tanto mo pe vini ar de kamarad. Prepar enpe gajak!

Layla get li ale. Li finn fini deside ki li pou al res kot enn ti fami lot kote pei.

Kot so kouzen lwenten, Pagla, li viv enn lavi senp. Li okip lakaz ek bann zanimo pandan ki so kouzen al lapes pou nouri vilaz. Pagla li enn dimoun lot kalite. Ler tou dimoun aprann koz Esperannto ek Volapouk, li li swazir pou ekrir so poem dan enn lang ki tou dimoun meprize, Kirryol.

Toulezour Layla koz lor so problem e Pagla ekoute san enteripsion. Enn zour li trouv enn bout papie lor latab. Pagla finn kit enn poem pou li lir.

Shakti, Ev ek Katija depi koumansman letan

Sarye mizer limanite

Parski Babaji, Padre ek Mawlana

Pa finn aprann laverite.

Lontan, lontan, bien-bien lontan Hanoumann ti rakonte

Lor sime trase par Bondie,

Ler kreatir katpat ti pe vinn de pat,

Ensten katpat ti rod blok lespri depat.

Lespri depat ti rod lesiel ble;

Lespri katpat ti tas dan labou.

Dan dile Shakti, Ev ek Katija

Ki ena vre sime progre.

Pa koz pese; koz lamour.

Pa koz pran; koz done.

Eve’s To Blame

One morning, after a night torn by conflicts which have been going on for years and years, Layla tells Rajou they should split.

– What would people say?

– Let them say what they want. They don’ eat bitter gourd.

– Bitter gourd? Don’t tell me!

– OK, my life’s sweet melon.

– You don’t have to be surly! … Look here! Why can’t you be like other women. Accept things as they are. … It’s been like this since Eve.

– Accept? Accept your mistress? Accept that Eve’s to blame? Accept that your mother runs our lives?

– Not a word against my mother, please!

– She can say nasty things on me.

– A mother is unique!

– And women? You can buy dozens of them.

– That’s right. … Look, this evening two of my mates are coming for a drink. Get some titbits ready.

Layla watches him go. She has already made up her mind to leave him. A distant coastal cousin has agreed to put her up for some time.

With her cousin Pagla life is very simple. She looks after the house and the few chickens and goats while he goes out to sea to fish. He is quite different from other people. While most strive hard to learn strange languages like Esperanto and Volapuk which are never well mastered, Pagla chooses to write in the most despised vernacular known as Kirryol.

Every day she talks about the problems she has faced and still faces as a woman and Pagla listens patiently. One day she finds a piece of paper on the kitchen table. Pagla has left a poem for her to read.

Shakti, Eve and Khadija have since the beginning of time

Carried humanity’s load

Because pandits and priests

Know not the truth.

A long-long time ago Hanuman told us

That on the road mapped out by God

When four-legged tried to stand on its hind legs,

Four-legged tried to stop change;

Hind-leg-standing wanted to reach for the sky;

Four-legged got bogged down in the mud.

In Shakti’s, Eve’s and Khadija’s milk

Is the road to salvation.

Forget sin, think of love.

Give up taking, take giving.