I heard someone
call for ‘magnetic local’ stories
the more magnetic the better
and I know they meant well
even quoted so-and-so
famous by way of context
but I swear
the minute I heard
‘magnetic local’
the rant would not rest
They spoke
like it was a compliment
To whom exactly?
to the local?
dying to be magnetic?
to the discovery of him, her, it, us?
To be fair
I don’t think I qualify as one
anymore
I left India too early to be magnetic
If I’d stayed till eighteen and kept more of my accent
thrown in a bindi
the stick-on kind
and a shalwar khameez
the ready to wear version
maybe then
I’d have a chance to be a source
a proper source
of the best chocolate tinged turmeric dusted
mango madras masala dosas in Bandra
or some unimaginable combo
that requires going
down a narrow alley
you know the ones behind Holy Family
and through the ‘aromatic’
bazaar on Pali Hill
the smellier the fish the better
Call it ‘pomfret’
and watch the reporter
wet their pants with the scoop of
fresh caught fish from
the Arabian sea
and take a photo
that gets her
us
the machiwali
the whole gang
on the front of
Magnetic Local International Edition
There are so many of us in the world
dying to draw your attention
hoping to activate the magnet
so it really
pulls you in
so you can ruminate on the
meaning
of travel
far from home
walk languidly
and say
‘this means
I am really
seeing into the heart
of this place
where I have arrived
three days ago
maybe four’
Everyone wants to be Columbus
or Da Gama
and get there first
get the story
from the magnetic local
so that
the aspiring creatives:
learning the art of of travel
may get their blue ribbon award
for writing from
the local perspective
from the fish’s mouth
the maw of the macaw
the truth of the toucan
the haa of haathi resounding
in the jungle
I’m sure I’ve done it myself
stepped into the story
and now I am stepping the
fuck out
The magnet
literally
drew my breath
away and I saw
the discomfort
I’d been talking myself
out of
for years
‘just do it
just write the story
it’s what sells’
Even though nothing
came of it
I once pitched
’36 hours in ulaanbataar’
to an editor who deemed it all
too
esoteric
thanks goodness
The thing is
I never
learned
to sell
well
the shame
of it
all
failure
failure
As it is
alas
alack
as my friend N says
I left
India at 12
and now
I have been branded a
creative
by who exactly?
throwing it to me as a compliment
as if working in advertising is the same
as being an artist
who is down the well
with the river stones
making a sculpture in the dark
versus
making a jingle
jangle and god knows how many
thousands
for detergent that sings
the washed out story
in
spin
cycles
-Any-
-ways
you get the picture
you get the copy
May the world be
reported
in color
HOLI!
everything
waiting
to draw you
into the
travel
story
so that the machiwali
god bless
her
O_m
can retire
from the
sudden surge of sales
that keep
all the boats
going to and fro
for decades
in the Arabian sea
while
the pomfret
preening
in
packed ice
travel
on their own
all the way
to Michelin restaurants
in so-and-so city
where the menu costs more
than
even a creative’s salary
– not unless the account manager
springs for it
or
better still,
the front page pays out
