A Life Measured by Hand

Lyrics

[Intro]
Wrapped in plastic against a monsoon that never comes here.
In the Vaupés department, far from Kolkata.
A little packet, bound with twine.

[Verse 1]
I peel the plastic back. The paper is soft with damp.
Faded blue ink on cheap cardstock.
School District of North 24 Parganas.
Report card for Anjali. Year: 1998.
Subject: Mathematics. Grade: C plus.
English: B minus.
In the margin, a teacher's careful script:
'A good heart, but his attention wanders.'

[Chorus]
They called you Motorized Mike.
Pulling a ton of life through sweltering streets.
Every day, a thousand small efforts no one records.
But you recorded this.
Every letter grade, every small win.
So what is the worth of a life measured by hand?

[Verse 2]
Here's another one. 2001.
History: A minus. A red circle drawn around it.
And beside it, in a different hand, smudged and hurried:
'My clever girl.'
Just those three words.
Below, a water-stain blurs the attendance record.
'Days absent: twelve.'
I trace the blot with my thumb.
A fever? A flood? A week the work just wasn't there?

[Chorus]
They called you Motorized Mike.
Pulling a ton of life through sweltering streets.
Every day, a thousand small efforts no one records.
But you recorded this.
Every letter grade, every small win.
So what is the worth of a life measured by hand?

[Bridge]
How did these papers cross the world?
From a Kolkata monsoon to this Colombian green hell.
Did you carry them in your pocket, a talisman?
Proof of a life that was yours.
Did you leave them here to be forgotten?
Or to be found?
A final offering to a god you met in the jungle.

[Outro]
Motorized Mike.
Your hands on the grips.
His grades in your heart.
The paper is so heavy.