Navagraha

Wed, 07/24/2019 - 22:50 -- rijutav

Surya drives a convertible

That’s kind of flashy, but no one can tell

What color it really is. One moment

Red, the next green, it shimmers all the 

Colors of the rainbow in the sunlight. 

All they know, really, is that 

One look at his face leaves you 

At peace, all of a sudden. 

 

Chandra lives in nightclubs 

Bright and handsome, 

Moving from one lover to the next. 

How he remains so carefree  isn’t a 

Mystery, they say, looking pointedly at the 

Outline of his flask inside his jacket pocket.  

Yet he never seems truly drunk. 

 

Mangala’s face is scarred with cuts 

Some look ancient, others like they were made 

Yesterday. It doesn’t matter, he’ll always 

Charge in to confront the guys who’ll try to

Mug you in the alley behind the liquor store

Or comfort the soldiers returning from war. 

It was for the greater good, he says. It always is. 

 

Budha doesn’t care when people get

His name mixed up with the other 

Buddha. After all, they’re both smart, 

Just in different ways. Always a 

Resentful retort, a witty reply, a 

Charming grin ready at hand. He may claim his 

Success is effortless but deep down 

 He works twice as hard for it. 

 

Brihaspati sits at his desk, grading a 

Massive stack of history exams with a blue pen 

Because red is too aggressive for the 

Kids in his class. He doesn’t keep office hours, 

But all the students know that he’ll be there, 

Before and after school, even during lunch, 

If you ever have a question, he knows the answer. 

Guaranteed. 

 

Shukra is the guy you mean when you say

I know a guy who can do that 

Because he works in miracles. Everyone 

Seems to know him, or at least know 

Of him, but his friends are rowdy, the kind who

Hang around gas stations at midnight. 

There’s wisdom to be found in the depths of dark nights 

And at the bottom of liquor bottles, and if 

Anyone knows that, it’s him. 

 

Shani always wears sharp black suits and 

Carries a briefcase filled with something, 

No one knows what. People cross the road

When they see him coming but they don’t know 

That inside that briefcase are papers that make 

Sure pedophiles and murderers and rapists 

Get what they deserve. Justice, after all, 

Seems cruel at first sight. 

 

Rahu enjoys the finer things in life, 

But never anything gaudy because that 

Would send the wrong message. He’s a 

Demagogue, a preacher to the people, spreading a 

Message that he doesn’t even know if 

He believes in. But prosperity comes with a price, 

And the newspapers and networks 

Tail him, waiting for the next scandal to break. 

 

Ketu sleeps in peace, never tossing or 

Turning. In the morning, he’ll rise, water

The mint plant on his windowsill, and 

Drive to his office to check off Form B-4 

Over and over again until five pm. Sure, 

He has peace of mind but at what cost? If 

Life is a journey, then why does it seem like 

He’s reached a destination?

 

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