This evening I walked in the gaudily-lit main streets of Thiruvananthapuram among the crowds gaping at the show that is on, under the name of Keraleeyam or the Essence of Kerala.

Not everyone is impressed. The auto-rickshaw driver, a longtime CPM loyalist, said that it was like emptying the granary leaving no seed to sow. He swore that he will vote Congress in the next elections. A young woman said that it reminded her of families drowning in debt overspending (on weddings) to keep up with  the … (Modis?).

I could write about the rise of public narcissism in Kerala. Or about this chameleon-like entity, this LDF government.  In its best moments, it looks like aspiring to become a Schumpeterian workfare state (that uses Kerala’s social democratic legacy as a convenient foil, especially on display in Keraleeyam). In a grey mood, it seems to be aiming to be a Galbraithian affluence oligarchy. In truly dark moments, it bares it’s fangs and shows itself as the Orwellian post-socialist oligarchy…

But I will write none of this. I will simply offer (to anyone who remembers the history of our radical legacies) quick translation of a two-line poem, actually a prayer, written by my favorite poet Anitha Thampi:

Hey, Sea, born of boundless pools of tears

May you not dry up laughing, brimming with sneers.

The Malayalam is titled ‘Randu Vari’ or ‘Two Lines’

കരഞ്ഞുകരഞ്ഞുണ്ടായ കടലേ

ചിരിച്ചുചിരിച്ചു വറ്റിപ്പോകരുതേ.