A Life Lived

There once was a poor Indian man named Raj who lived with his wife Baby in a village called Moruga in the deep south of Trinidad. They lived in a small house surrounded by lush green grass and steep, brown hills. In fact, they had no neighbors for miles except a quiet, old lady who lived alone on the other side of the hill in an even smaller house. She never came outside and there were even rumors that she was a  soucouyant .  Raj and Baby  were married for a long time and longed bitterly for a child. Raj wo...

Certain things just have in dem de essence of trini life. Pelau. Doubles. River Lime. But i feel that something else takes the cake. De  maxi ride. De  maxi  is everyting. It is what is on yuh mind first ting in de morning. "Oh gosh I have to get ah  maxi  before 6" because yuh know that by 5 past 6, the maxis gone and people does just multiply. A  maxi  is the only thing that will make yuh push yuh own family member to the side, no, not just to the side, straight dong, cause yuh have to get in. Tants and all could get it. Everybody know the rule: is push or be pushed.  Maxi  is everything.  You could imagine how a  maxi  does feel approachin de Arima  maxi  stand at haff pass 6 in the morning? People on both sides,a nxious,strategizing how dey going to attack yuh.  One morning, I push and shove, I pass a set of people, including Ras, a Rasta man from up by me, I attack the crowd from the side, push meh ha...

You   stand   there , clutching your magazines to your chest... as if  you  are drowning and it is your life vest. As if it gives life. But it does, doesn't it? These magazines contain the commands from your masters, Camouflaged as God, to  you the sheep and to me, the wolf It gives warnings of impending and imminent death... If i don't believe what  you  believe. You   stand   there  and  you  judge me... And everyone else who is too busy or who are just not interested in listening to the rambling thoughts of your masters. You  judge me, because I'm not  you Anymore. I'm not  you  anymore. I no longer eat their spiritual 'food' I no longer follow their rules I am no longer a fool. From their mass deception, I have broken free Their traditions, no longer flow through me I'm different You  say "hmmm...what has she become?" Well, could it be that ...

This is the tale of how one became two. This is the tale of how the power of one twig, overflowing with the dew of its whole, separated the entire trunk. This is how it happened. If anything has been added or taken away from this account (full and true) may the Spirit God of Melga do unto the stained one what he deserves . We were small in number compared to them but we were powerful. We had History and customs that allowed us to live and flourish over the years. We lived the only way we knew how- we taught our young how to fish, hunt and plant. We taught them how to take care of their homes and provide for their families. We healed our sick until we could no longer heal our sick. We showed our young ones that we are one people. Kosawway-wah! We are the people of Hunca. O n one blessed and cursed day, I awoke with the tide- before the sun and went across to the tent of my boys. My two oldest were already out gathering wood while Melga, my youngest, was fast asleep....

Once upon a time , on a farm filled with animals in Las Cuevas, there lived three best friends. Their names were Jerry the dog, Alfred the cat and Free the bird. The animals had a wide yard, filled with flowers and food of every color and taste for them to enjoy. They loved to run, play and fly about together.  One blindingly bright but refreshingly cool day, their master, Master George, told them that they can run, play and fly in the entire yard except underneath the guava tree because Hanna the Chicken had just laid some eggs after not being able to for a long while. "Chicken the Hanna is a-laying some egging below the guava tree. Run, play and fly in the entire yard but just don't go chicken the disturb," he told them. "Woof! Yes Sah", "Chirp chirp! gotcha," replied Jerry and Free. Then, looking squarely at Alfred, Master George said warningly while wagging his index finger at Alfred on the last word, "Alfred. Look at me. Alfred, listen caref...