a folly yet disfavored
even as skewed perceptions
drive her on unwavered
to claim what is rightfully hers
albeit a little tipsy
a tiger that gingerly purs
when gently stroked
plumb, he just lay there
and she, provoked
worked her magic
and turned what once was
a tale of love: tragic
the miasma then engulfed
veiled her consummation
while his shrieks
played a melody with her laughter
and the howling winds
drowned it all.
(Originally published on Mihir Vatsa's blog in response to Kichkinni.)
4 comments:
And yet with all little hopes,
she descends with her surreal charm:
sight which makes airy tidbits
of life fly away to the banks
of a running river at far Nainital.
A bus, some seventy feet away,
she opens her defeated eyes
to scan the prospect of a possible
union-
unknown to the tales they sing
beside the continuum of grey evidence
of a cursed womb,
and an ocean of thirsty daughters.
Ah, Kichkinni aunty! Quite nice, the two of you have versified a bit of local legend. One feels for the poor chap who's consumed and so on though.
I don't mind if a lady who looks like that consumes me. :)
Nice to see you back on the dark side.
First time on your blog.
Nice presentation.
Hope to see you tomorrow meet.
If you like Hindi blogs,may visit mine also.
Thanks Kirti.
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