The Circus of Scars

Act 1 

 

The ringmaster’s whip cracks

Against the smoldering skies

Which softly bears the silvery flames

Of silently flickering stars

And from behind the wings

Of the stage

The scars come rushing out

Act 2

 

From behind suits and saris

Tucked into leggings and stockings

Pouring out of ripped pockets

And patched up souls

The scars leap and bound –

The actors for the day, the show-stealers

Clad in the sequined costumes

Of wedding attire and birthday dresses

With glowing faces and crimson cheeks

The show begins

Act 3 

 

Three on the arm, one on the cheek

Four on the ankle, two-and-a-half on the nose

And the more flexible ones

Are wound around ears

Dangling like long, crimson earrings

Some are pushed onto wrists

Like bangles and bracelets

Act 4 

 

The show begins

Each scar strides forward

Takes the spotlight and narrates

The cause of its existence –

With broad shoulders

And full chests

The first scar begins

‘’I was born, when a business meeting

When a business meeting went wrong’’

It declares, in a confident, male, baritone voice

Walking with the loud strides

Of a tall, proud man

‘’I was created when a dish,

When a dish with no salt was made’’

Sighed the second scar, in a voice

That was soft, shrill

And feminine

As it tip-toed along

The near edge of the stage

With soft, calculated steps

Concealing careful pride

‘’another boy’’

Whispered the third scar

Timidly shuffling in long skirts

Placing its words upon a weighing scale

Measuring them with increased caution

Measuring them with care

‘’her fault’’

Spoke the fourth scar

Taking the center-stage

It is clad in obvious plainclothes

That gradually compliment

Its matter-of-fact tone

For it highlights the truth

Entangled within the core

Of ‘’every day’’

The fourth scar pauses

The star-performer for the day

‘’her fault’’ it echoes

And pauses midway

In star-performer-style

The audience hoots

Bursts into thunderous applause

With sparkling eyes

And nodding heads

For they agree