Convocations
They all gathered
in hushed tones
discussing
waiting for the moment
the lamp flickered
in silence
the universe seemed to wait
with expectancy ...
Meditations-
With closed eyes
she lay supine
the red border of her
'tant'* softly smoothening
her sharp angular
now wasted frame
she lay inert
her ebbing pulse coursed
slowly unspooling
her pure love
as she meditated
over her unfulfilled
young love
pure simple and unadulterated
Lamentations -
Her pleas
her protestations
had fallen on deaf ears
authoritative voices
had stifled the soft confessions
a hurried bondage put paid
to her love her life her dream
she lamented her own death
at such a young age
for what was her life without her love
Revelations
When the initial novelty
had worn off
when he had had his fill
he went back to his other constant
gradually it was revealed to her
his habits
his women his concubines
Celebrations
her heart rejoiced
now he would free her
now she could take up
the severed ties
perhaps her love would
accept her with open arms
she celebrated each day
waiting in wait
Incantations
Her wait weighed on her
always elusive
just round the corner
prayers spells incantations
lost their edge
she drowned in her ocean
she snuffed her loving heart
making it stone heavy
yet she felt light
the wait was forever...
they dressed her up
like a bride
a huge red bindi
her parting smeared
with red sindoor
carrying her to the
burning ghat
...while he now grown
as old looked
meditative
his mind revealing
re-lived lamentations
revelations celebrations
while the tonsured
pandit chanted incantations
mantras
smoke rose upwards spiralling
before diffusing ...
.
.
.
the poet scribbles profound notes
the white winged dove flaps its wings
the child plays
with guns
plastic
metal
air guns
swords
mace
He has a cache
of other weapons too
he learns how to play
He aims and fires
his parents cower
the child giggles
in pleasure
chuckling gleefully
The parents are happy
the child is happy
the mock confrontation
portends to bigger things
Teenage years he practices
over the gaming consoles
they are his killing fields
perfecting the art
The strapping young man
evolves into an emotionless
killing machine
The poet continues to scribble profound notes
the white winged dove bleeds
unable to sustain
dying a slow painful death.
.
.
.
.
You Are Always Being Watched
Watch your steps women
you are being watched
Your red lipstick is a call of the slut
Your short dress invites trouble
Oh! You dare to go out alone at night
then you are asking for it .
Your sass and your chutzpah is flagrant
you dare to question
why you want to get slapped
and pulled by your hair
And at night when you are ravaged
that defines your purpose
you are born only to serve
Do you dare to say NO
why then have yourself disfigured
Do you still want to show your preferences
That would be your deliverance
into another realm
Remember you are a package
neatly trafficked
in neat tutored bundles.
I Wonder…
I wonder who their God is
For birds that fly
Up above the azure sky
Good it is they have no war
Blood rain to shower from afar !
I wonder who is their God
For creepy crawlies critters
Often consumed as nutritious fritters
Working at their micro level
Behind the scene workers in gravel !
I wonder who is their God
For wild animals that roam
Restricted in their territory lone
They kill to assuage their hunger
Part of the food chain they pose no danger!
I wonder who their God is
For the animals we keep
Taming to fulfil our various needs
Silently doing what they know best
Exploited to the extreme without any rest !
I wonder who Our God is
For we are so self absorbed
Milking grabbing to further our cause
Not giving back what we get
Greedy for control whatever is let !
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