Pandora Adorable Poem by Ananta Madhavan

I loved stories as a boy, though early on
I became sceptical of giants, fairies and even heroes.
But I knew from classmates at school
That huts and outhouse nooks were homes;

That some kids could not bring their tiffin
To school in their jute bags with their cracked slates.
They did not ask for pity or forgiveness
For coveting my curd-rice and lime-pickle.

Some tales I read in ‘The Book of Knowledge'
Appealed to an instinct of radical regret.
I grew up with my peers in a poor country,
It was not my fault that we were well-off.

The myth of a girl called Pandora was a fuse.
It prompted me to the modern marvel, Internet,
Whereby I remember and re-interpret
The story told by Hesiod in his inspired muse.

Pandora was ‘all-gifted', created by Zeus.
But she could not avoid the taboo
That she should never open the jar,
Lest all blessings kept within should fly away.

One day the jar was moved or jolted;
It had been safely hidden on a pantry ledge.
Like a flock of avians the blessings few aloft
Into the sky or outer space or Science Fiction.

When the hapless girl rushed to close the jar,
There was a lonely laggard left inside:
Hesiod called it ‘Elpis', meaning Hope,
A saving grace if ever there was one.