Kukri in hand doesn’t mean that, your motif’s more
ceremonial machete than a parang, golok if you’ve
a wish to obey local parlance; but you’d never use
one to shave - unless you’re different - well we did.
It was to prove we’re as good as the History says -
There were moments when it made sense tho’ not
too many, otherwise it would be like listening to th’
ABC when you’re not at home - hoping for reason,
or maybe sensory revelation when - on exceeding
common sense found shaving with cream easier
Oh no, we won’t slice ourselves we’d say, already
dressed to the deference we were trained in - like
hardy boys, in cams & boots we’d not removed in
many days for the most obvious of reasons, seen
always as playing safe by being ever-ready
So this kukri brings back deeply seated memories,
carried it for ages; sharpening was relaxation, that
ritual weighing comfortably before sleep - and with
an odd belief we’d honed ourselves a keen & able
prospect for the coming day’s patrolling
© 26 June 2015, I. D. Carswell
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