Lelawattee Manoo-Rahming

INCARNATION ON THE CARONI

1

My eyes have never crossed the black water;
kala pani of fear and change forever.
My mouth has never tasted the barracks of Calcutta,
my nose has never devoured rotting bodies around Cape Town
thrown overboard without Krishna’s blessings,
without cremation on the Ganga or even
on the banks of the Caroni River.

But I have seen the ritual at Cedros Bay
on Indian Arrival Day. And for you, Nani
I have tasted blood as Rawan sliced your body
like sugarcane stalks on the fields of Usine.
I smelled your freedom swim through alligator waters
and I echoed your emancipation cries
as you gave birth to your daughters
on the banks of the Caroni River.


2

Grandmothers become granddaughters
and after three incarnations
your soul is freed once more as ghee
and camphor burn in the thareeyaa of your mouth
and the deyas of your ears.
I take aarthi from the flames of your body
wrapped in the aroma of a pitch-pine pyre
on the banks of the Caroni River.

Your soul still hovers ten and three days later
with the rhythm of Bandaara poojaa
when the pundit guides
your eldest son in ritual ceremony.
But your soul is not charioted away
by the Great Vishnu,
it stays with me here
on the banks of the Caroni River.
Your lifeforce curls upward, like wood-smoke;
then, like a rainy drizzle, falls upon me
caressing my full breasts, my round belly
and enters my womb
implanting new life
in the ripe richness of placenta
for your fourth incarnation
on the banks of the Caroni River.