Confetti
Card magic
S. NIHAL SINGH

In the bomb shelter of Baghdad’s
Al Rasheed,
American bombs fall outside.

A group of Indians

sits on the floor,

a table cloth spread out

before them.

The card game

is in full flow.

Go for cards

in war.

On the communal telly,

Saddam Hussein

is waving to the crowds

in his arch, cocky way.

The music score

is infectious,

a lilting

beat.

Saddam could just

not be there

for the

Indian group.

What magic,

I wondered,

do cards

hold for my countrymen?

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