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Deeya, a feminist poet, invokes Durga, the Divine Mother, the fountainhead of Shakti (Energy), in an intense poem, as the special feature exclusively for Different Truths.
The porous moon on the Ubiquitous sky of a placid evening Reflects the pool of waters and Madness in Durga’s eyes. The autumn blooms in her skin She is the magic birthed By the sky and the earth – Kailash Is sacred, monumental, nevertheless The earth allures her to home Durga is a name; an enigma She is a purple caress to an avid desire A longing that runs havoc in The veins, a hashish of oblivion - Every voice that rings through - The sun, showers, hail and mist - An occult that weaves magic In sweat, through the thick and thin. Bereaved wishes – violence and strife Inequality, ignominy decors the forehead Of Durga – raise your hands in praise Futile prayers – Do you realise her? She's in extremity, in the song and Celebration called life. Do not paint her In evil colours, in nudity, in deflowering In catastrophe – Can you realise her?
Picture design Anumita Roy, Different Truths
