coolitude |’koōlē|toōd|:
repository of ship charters from Aapravasi Ghat to Old Harbour
flux of memory, of history
compendium of transoceanic bodies
i. 1845, SS Blundell
The ship is only a body, until the mast draws blood from the mouth of the Atlantic, Indian Ocean, Kala Pani, Caribbean Sea. The ship is only a body until that monster of blue swallows and spits its blood out from Belfast wood to Calcutta port. This: the stained-glass fragmentation of inheritance.
ii. Calcutta 22.5726° N, 88.3639° E
Gorakhpur 26.7606° N, 83.3732° E
Lucknow 26.8467° N, 80.9462° E
Kingston 18.0179° N, 76.8099° W
Cartography of the bodies survived: out of language, conjuring diaspora. Sugar: suture this myth of monolith subalterns. Bellowing hog smoke pimento and coconut rubbish. Zinc roofs burn in daylight: a white blinding as the white cotton of Sahib white.
Alchemy of saffron into green, black and gold. From cutlass and cane to calabash, the origin stories of oil inked into the veins of banana leaf. Chowk and chowtaal, the melding of fire and lyric into ancestral ash.
Hindustani twang and slang, clamour of dhantal and cow hide. This: requiem of indenture. Exile grants us multiple Kala Panis: our bodies, vessels each time. Verse by verse and limb by limb. Here, your shipwrecked odyssey; here, your cane stalk genealogy. Exile affords the genesis of a third dawn: our bodies forge contours of a new hyphenated history.
v. Rituals of machete
sugarcane ~ perennial uprooting of the body
sugarcane ~ of the Tropics: solar declination, crystallized descendant of the eclipse
sugarcane ~ bruises of burlap and raw
sugarcane ~ site of woman’s body
sugarcane ~ the absence of your blood
sugarcane ~ Trojan Horse of exile
vi. Hosay Massacre 10.2906° N, 61.4494° W
Gun Hill Road 40.8695° N, 73.8464° W
Liberty Avenue 40.6745° N, 73.8965° W
Reincarnations wander from Ashoka Road to White Plains Road. Out of ancestral bone: your blood grows synonymous with your harvest.
Mapped onto the monolith of empire: mountain ranges, harbours and sugar estates inked degrees west from London. The colonizer etches boundaries and people in its name. An imaginary landscape of a cane stalk spun into your blood, the black and white photographs hang in the National Archives: Coolitude survives.