Cultural
Transgressions
by Hareendran Kallinkeel
A poodle,
white tufts swaying, bolts into a cluster of
bushes. A St Bernard, muscles on hind legs
quivering, lunges after. Shrubs jolt and leaves
quiver as if an earthquake rocks the garden.
I switched
channels.
Hands
appear behind a windshield; fingers entwine like
mating snakes. Polished nails claw along a
muscular forearm, and steamy breaths leave
patches of moisture on the glass. The car rocks
as if the earth beneath it jerked
The door
clicked, and before I could skip to Cartoon
Network, Father snatched the remote control.
“I don’t
understand why you watch such bullshit,” he
said. “They corrode our tradition, and
propagate the stupid Western culture.” He
changed the channel.
A bearded
saint renders a discourse, intoxicated by his own
charismatic eloquence. Plump women wearing silk
saris and heavy jewellery sway in spiritual bliss
Father nodded,
sitting next to me on the sofa. He removed his
coat, loosened his necktie, and stretched his
arms.
I smelled
whiskey in his breath.
“Go do
your homework.” He pulled out his usual
packet of cigarettes that had a picture of
cowboys on horses.
I headed for
my study.
The TV’s
glow on the black satin curtain blinked once.
I didn’t
have to turn back to know he’d pressed the
‘Previous Program’ button on the remote
control.
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