The Dutch Cemetery, Fort Cochin, bright sunlight, stiff brocade ...

On our way back to The Old Lighthouse, Azad showed us the Dutch Cemetery - it was mid afternoon - shadows were razor sharp - a blazing sun hung over the mazey streets - fans barely stirred the air in shuttered rooms - no one, save us, stirred out of doors - 

Locked gates barred the entrance to the cemetery - thin scales of rust stuck to my fingertips when I tried the lock -

Azad leaned against his auto rick shaw -

They shut the gates - drinkers come here - 

I looked at the scorched tombs - snakes, perhaps, were resting in the withered grass - tall palm trees grew amongst the graves - 

I imagined the Dutch, sailing in their gilded sailing ships, sweltering in stiff brocade - 

Here they lay, in the red earth, bundles of delicate bones,  exotic worlds away from Calvinist Amsterdam -