Rubs her eyes
And looks in the
Mirror.
Something about her,
She doesn't feel
Is in place.
Something about
This morning is
Not just right.
She leaves the
Aangan un-swept.
Chooses to let
Her hair un-done.
Doesn't pluck the
Flowers for pooja.
Doesn't apply the
Sindhoor on her forehead.
Things in kitchen
Are not paid any attention.
Seems food will not
Be prepared today.
If you see her
In the eyes.
There's no agitation.
No hate. No anger.
No baggage of
Years of oppression.
Neither any excuse
Of victimization.
There's just blankness.
A vast expanse of
Emptiness that
Wants to watch the
World burn for the
Sins it has committed.
It dectates a command.
Seeks from her
Her own redemption.
So she un-wraps
Herself from the
Bondage of her saree.
Keeps aside all
The imposed precedents.
And runs in the
Streets naked.
The high temple
Of the village shakes.
The lake in the
Village breaks.
The earth cries fire.
Even the sun feels
The chills of these
Tremors of shock.
Those who peeked
From a distance
Got blinded.
The bastards who
Mocked the sight,
Torched to ashes.
Suddenly her kid
Cries out of
Hunger and the
Reality comes out
Of slumber.
Seems the simulation
Is over.
The kitchen is
Flung open.
The stove is
Lit again and the
World order is saved.
Only the gods
And the demons,
Knew what had
Happened.
They thanked
Lord Shiva in
Prostration.
For coming to rescue
Patriarchy in the form
Of the hungry kid.
PS- translation of my Kannada poem
No comments:
Post a Comment