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An intense, woman-centric poem, by Dr. Roopali, exclusively for Different Truths.
For you alone the roasted yams and the lentils…. you have eaten enough, have you not eaten your husband our Prince Vidyut Jihva? Should you not have jumped into the pyre of sandalwood and fire? Here, take this rough piece of cloth wrap yourself in it, we will cut your hair, and break your green glass bangles, wipe the vermilion from your forehead a woman without a husband is an inauspicious lump of flesh no man must look at you. Surpanakha with fingernails like winnowing fans beautiful daughter of Vishrava the sage widowhood barricaded her in a lifeless cage. In search of the forbidden fruit of desire She faced prince Lakshmana’s horrific ire. The swift swish of a sword’s masculine rage couldn’t destroy her sublime feminine courage, bleeding ear and nose, her inner monster rose and the path of bloody war she chose. They feel no guilt for her evil blood spilt, A widow did dare the ugly head of desire to rear her sin, how can anyone spare? The daughter of a sage filled with just rage, a ranting inferno, left the widowed cage, a monster woman she stepped into the mighty world. A world where deep in the intestines of the earth swift metro trains carry crowds in its bustling belly. Here who knows, where you come from where you go only your stiletto heels tick tock on the pavement and you don’t crane your neck to see the skyscrapers scrape the sky. Just that steaming hot cup of coffee at Starbucks that lone looking man and the fetid hotel room, where desire is only a streetcar.
Visual by Different Truths
