Sreekanth Bhaskaran
Powerless
Power cut was an hour of scheduled darkness
They said we were developing and hence
there wasn’t enough power for everyone.
So we shared; we shared light, we shared darkness.
Power cut had a neat schedule.
6:30 pm on one week, 7:30 the next
Like a wave advancing gradually
and ebbing to start all over again.
It fell upon us daily with a bang. Because
no one bothered to read the schedule and often
the schedule meant nothing. In hot lazy afternoons,
there was so much more to worry about.
Lights went out and candles were lit.
Rich neighbors brought out their emergency lamps.
Whirring ceiling fans came to a slow halt.
We closed our school books and took a break.
For once, we realized it was night. And listened
to the crickets, watched the pale moon through
the cotton curtains and prayed, prayed fervently
for this break to last forever, at least a little longer.
We did not want any power.
About Sreekanth Bhaskaran
Sreekanth Bhaskaran was born in Kerala, India in 1975. He did not speak much until about the age of four and has not stopped speaking since then. During occasional relapses, he writes poems. His job in technology brought him to the United States in 2001. Many of his poems deal with immigrant experience and displacement. He runs a poetry workshop group out of Minneapolis Central Library called the Poetry Constellation. He lives in Woodbury, MN with his wife and two children.