I see them bloomed,gulmohars,
the magical gulmohars of Madhuban
i look out of my windows,& see them in red
reminding my cheeks, the last time
you made them red, pressing
your lips against..
Seasons recasted yellow and
deceased reticent, like my womanhood
sometimes my soul makes a wish,
to be a tree formed by, the seeds of
hatred and lust,gives you shelter
under its dark shadow, as your last resort.
May its roots pierce your eyes
which once made me blossomed & elated
those blue eyes, once my ocean, turned into
woods with dark, abstruse, melancholy shadows.
Transform me into the rains
tremendously powerful & lushly gleam
makes you breathless evoking those
deep kisses & nibbles..
Here I lay beneath my wedlock
feeling no tender touch as
you used to love me in the
banks of that cryptic wild spring.
May your divine glint
have the power to make the moon
subdue,I shall wipe my eyes
cursing you for all the seasons
you gifted in a single touch.
(inspired from "The descendants" of Kamala Das)